 
The Childless Society

by Joel Foote

Copyright 2009 Joel Foote

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Chapter 1

"Help me! I need help," yelled Bruce, as he frantically made his way from the boat carrying Jack in his arms. Even though wounded himself, he knew Jack was much worse. "I've got a seriously injured man here. He's lost a lot of blood."

Jack was slipping in and out of consciousness. He could feel the life ebb from his body. He coughed. A trickle of blood discharged from the corner of his mouth. He tried to speak. "I...I..."

"No. Don't talk," pleaded Bruce. "Help is coming. You've got to hang on Bro. Please God. Help him. Help him to hang on." Tears were rolling down Bruce's cheeks.

Jack only managed a slight gurgling sound before closing his eyes.

"Sir, they've got wounded," said the soldier.

"The ambulances are on the way Sergeant. Get some men and help them to that grove of trees by the roadside," replied Livingstone Richwaters, the United States Attorney General. All of a sudden Livingstone saw him. Steven Laurence, former External Prime Minister of Canada. "My God Steven, you did get hit!"

A tall, slender man, being helped along by two other men, one on either side, looked up. "I'll be okay," he managed. "But Jack," pointed Steven, "he's hurt real bad. Please help him Livingstone."

Quickly turning around, the Attorney General loudly shouted, "Sergeant! We've no time to wait for the ambulances. Those wounded men have to get to a hospital now. Help them onto my chopper for immediate departure. I'm sending over one more. They must be evacuated at once."

"God bless you Livingstone. I'll never be able to thank you enough. There are others on the boat...With children...Down below. Not all of us made it though," Steven sighed.

"Soldiers are on their way now to get them out. I'll see you later in the hospital my old friend. You men there! Take the Prime Minister over to my chopper on the double. And be careful with him. See that he's put on with those two other wounded." Turning now, to Dr. Foxing and Tim, the Attorney General asked them if they were alright.

"I'm a doctor and yes we are fine, thank you Sir. We must go see to the children. Some of them were injured in a motor vehicle accident but I'm sure they can wait for the ambulances to arrive," replied Dr. Foxing.

"How is he?" Steven asked Bruce when he got to the helicopter.

"It doesn't look good," replied Bruce. "He needs emergency surgery fast."

Jack opened his eyes a crack. At first, all was a blur. Then, slowly, he began to recognize Steven's face gazing down upon him as Steven tightly clasped his hand.

"It's alright son. We'll have you fixed up in no time."

Jack slipped back into unconsciousness.

As the helicopter was lifting off with the wounded men, the United States Coast Guard was removing all passengers from the tug. They included a large group of children who had been secured down below for their own safety. Suddenly, a strikingly attractive woman broke through the crowd, half stumbling, in the direction of the Attorney General.

"Jack! Jack! Where are you?" she cried, desperately looking around.

"Can I help you?" asked Livingstone Richwaters.

"My partner. Jack. Do you know where he is?"

"He is with the Prime Minister and another man. They were all wounded in the fighting and are on the way to the hospital in my helicopter."

"Oh no!" cried Dorrissa. "How badly is he hurt?"

"I'm not sure. But I promise you he's in good hands. He'll receive the best of medical attention." Eying the woman discreetly he asked, "You must be Dorrissa. I've heard a lot about you. You're one hell of a brave woman."

"You're Attorney General Richwaters? Steven has spoken very highly of you. Please Sir, I must see Jack."

"It won't be long now. I expect enough ambulances to arrive for you all very shortly. It's really amazing," added the Attorney General, looking at the rescued group as they were coming ashore. I never believed I'd see real children escape from Canada. The President will be thrilled."

"Excuse me Sir?" said a soldier standing at attention. "We found a body in the Pilot House. It's over there covered up. A Dr. Foxing, who is with these people, has identified him as skipper of the vessel. He said he was a native Canadian."

"There can't be many of them left. Very well Corporal. The President will be notifying the Canadian authorities of this incident directly. I'll let him know. Has the Coast Guard cutter commander finished his report about the scene of the wreckage as to whether or not any human remains were found?"

"Not as yet Sir?" replied the corporal.

"Keep me posted. That is all."

"Attorney General Sir?"

"Yes Sergeant."

"I have the President on the line."

"Good. Excuse me Dorrissa. I mustn't keep the President waiting. It shouldn't be long before..."

At that precise moment the ambulances needed to transport everyone to the hospital arrived.

"Oh, here they are now," said Attorney General Richwaters. "They'll have you at the hospital in no time. I expect to be there myself later this evening. Steven Laurence is a very old and dear friend of mine. I hope to see you then and we can talk more. I can't wait to hear your story. Give my regards to your Jack and the other man. I pray you receive good news upon your arrival. I must go now. Bless you."

"Thank you Attorney General. I look forward to talking with you later."

On hearing her name, Dorrissa turned around.

"Dorrissa, Dorrissa," called Becka, who, standing in the midst of the children, began waving wildly once she had spotted her. "Have you seen Bruce?"

It all began innocently enough, on a Saturday morning five years earlier in the year 2149. It was late in the fall and daylight was reluctant to emerge. The weather forecast had said it was to be a cloudy grey day with possible showers. The siren, of which every residence had one, sounded a wake up call at precisely seven a.m. Jack 1145A12 rubbed the sleep from his drowsy eyes. He smiled affectionately at his partner Dorrissa 172A12 lying beside him. Jack was positively enamored by Dorrissa. They had been together for nine years. Jack and Dorrissa were both Crehus which was the common term given for created human beings. They had been test tube babies and were both conceived at birthing labs, coincidentally, in the year 2104. As no one celebrated birthdays anymore, the day and the month were irrelevant. Not that they knew the dates anyway. It only mattered that they were both now in their forty-fifth year of life.

Dorrissa casually stretched and grinned at Jack as she caught the loving stare that seemed to make his eyes sparkle and dance.

"Hey sleepy head, time to get up," said Jack, as he maneuvered his arm in such a way as to deliver a playful poke.

"Ouch, now you're in for it. I'll make you pay."

Jack laughed, "Promises, promises."

Dorrissa was a devastatingly beautiful woman, especially now in middle age. Her long, honey-colored, blonde hair complimented indigo blue eyes. A slight pug nose, full pursed lips, and dainty ears that continually played hide and seek with you, completed the picture. She was definitely a looker.

"Oh, it's too gloomy to get up today," said Dorrissa. "Furthermore, it's Saturday. How about if we pretend it's night time?"

"We can't do that," stated Jack. "Don't forget we have a new boarder arriving at noon. Besides, the government deems it slothful to sleep in," he said, lightheartedly. "I'm kind of hungry too," he added with cleverness.

Jack thrust himself into a sitting position. He was tall, lean, and muscular with brown hair, green eyes, and a ruddy complexion combining sharp chiseled features that bordered on majestic. An almost constant smile, permeating his lips, would charm all onlookers in his presence. They were an attractive pair by anyone's standards. Dorrissa propped herself up on one elbow and kissed Jack gently on the cheek. He closed his eyes and let her scent engulf him.

"Shall I make breakfast, handsome?" she asked, tousling his hair.

"I'd love that. I'm famished."

Dorrissa rose and walked casually to the chair by the bureau where she had placed her robe. Turning and cocking her head to one side, she saw that Jack had been watching. She puckered her lips and wiggled her rear in a haughty manner as she grasped the robe.

Jack....Watching? He couldn't take his eyes off her. So long and slender, with legs that climbed to the very height of her navel, she was gorgeous. How he wished he could pretend it was night time. Damn that boarder he thought.

Dorrissa threw back her head and laughed impishly as she donned her robe, ascertaining that she had read his thoughts quite accurately. Very proud of her figure, Dorrissa was thankful for the gene pool she came from.

"Gotcha," she said, and laughed as she turned to leave the room.

Jack leaned back and reminisced about life before Dorrissa. He had been partnered with three other women previous to meeting Dorry, as he liked to call her. The last woman was Celeste. He was quite fond of Celeste and assumed they would be life partners. But it was not to be. When his rating advanced from C to A, Celeste's remained stationary and by law they were required to separate. An A rank was the highest a Crehu could obtain other than the addition of a plus symbol which signified the very top level of government. All partners were required by law to be the same rank.

An A rank came with every privilege imagined. A real house with a yard, furnished lavishly with state-of-the-art appliances and your own car. You had freedom to come and go as you please, including in and out of the country. No curfews. You had admission into all the best restaurants. Everything a person could possibly dream of. Both Jack and Dorrissa, with a mixture of hard work and sheer determination, had obtained this rank by age thirty six, far earlier than many.

Your name, number and rank, along with your picture, were required by law to be worn in full view on an identity card when not in your residence. A red maple leaf under your photograph signified you had the right to travel outside of the country. The letter D beside it gave you the right to drive. The back of the card contained a holograph of your thumb print for additional identification. It could even be used to charge purchases and pay bills.

Jack was #1145A12. The number one meant that he was a first generation Crehu. The next three numbers, 145, signified that he was the 145th person to be named Jack in the year that he was created. The last two digits, number 12, referred to the year of his creation. Considering the first year for created humans was 2093, and Jack was created in 2104, he was a 12. No one had a last name. They were deemed to be irrelevant and had been discarded. Jack had attained a high level job at the Rank Institute-Hillcrest Division. He sat on a panel with other government employees and they reviewed people in regard to raising or lowering their rank in society. Dorrissa had a prominent position in a birthing lab. Her rank allowed for top clearance with total access to every aspect of the entire operation.

The house they lived in was part of a remote upscale neighborhood surrounded by a green bank (which had been the term for a wide strip of undeveloped land) sixty miles from the city. It was a four bedroom bungalow on a quarter acre lot in a community of homes which were built in the mid to late 1900's. All single homes within city limits had long been demolished, replaced by high rise living centers and industries. In these vast cities was where the majority of Crehus worked and lived. They resided in spaces. SPACES – (commonly called space or spaces) stood for Special People Accommodation City Existence Sites.

"Honey, breakfast is ready," called Dorrissa.

"I'm coming."

"Better hurry up. Don't forget the institute is sending us a new boarder today," she mocked.

"I know. Sloan 2168T36."

By 2075 the majority of Canadians were choosing not to conceive children. The ones still being born, usually in lower class communities, were prone to gang membership, violence and vandalism. The country began clamoring for real justice and an end to the lawlessness and criminal activity. On hearing this outcry the government believed it to be a mandate for change. Medical advances had made possible the procreation of life by growing a human fetus, full term, inside an artificial womb in a laboratory. With the population in steady decline, the situation called for drastic measures. The government commenced searching for 'a solution'.

Jack walked into the kitchen as Dorrissa removed two trays from the oven. All food was purchased at food allocation areas and came frozen, canned or prepackaged. Fresh food was only found at farm centers, child rearing centers, or high class restaurants. The night sky had finally been expunged, captured instead, by a misty horizon. The kitchen light reflected off the large stand up freezer and helped to brighten up the room. Jack sat at the table.

"Bacon and eggs, or sausages and pancakes?" asked Dorrissa.

"I'll have waffles and syrup. No, on second thought I'll have waffles and ice cream. Chocolate," replied Jack, feeling highly amused with himself.

Dorrissa glowered at him before answering. "Fine, make it yourself. All this hard work slaving over a hot stove," she joked, "has given me a ravenous appetite. I shall devour all of this, no problem."

"Truce, truce, I beg of you," bantered Jack, humorously.

"Forget it. It's eggs on pancakes for you."

"Ooh, yuck."

Jack and Dorrissa discussed the weather and the coming of winter while they ate their breakfast. They talked about the trip that needed to be made to the city with Sloan the following day. He had to be carded before starting employment on Monday morning. Dorrissa mentioned she was having some problems with a few new girls who seemed to be brash and unmotivated in the performance of their duties. Jack believed they would better themselves with further guidance. It would just be a matter of time. Upon finishing his bacon and eggs, lucky that Dorrissa had taken pity on him, Jack remarked out loud, "Bacon and eggs, how I wish they were fresh not frozen. Just like the ones at the farm center we had this past summer."

"Weren't they yummy," squealed Dorrissa, eyes wide in reminiscence. "Every morning for two weeks we couldn't get enough of them could we?"

"Don't forget the mouth-watering steak and scrumptious fish. Fresh not frozen," said Jack.

"Oh stop. I've just finished eating and now you've given me a craving," replied Dorrissa.

"I miss having real cream in my coffee," stated Jack.

"Enough already. By the way, we're out of canned milk and you'll have to have your coffee black. Sorry," she smiled. "Do you ever wonder what it would have been like if we had been raised purposely to be government farm center workers? Just think of getting to eat fresh food every day and to be around animals all the time," she added.

Jack and Dorrissa had been taking farm center holidays for the past few years. Two weeks in July and always at a different location. They would also take two weeks at a cottage up north, usually a week at a time. They had only been out of the country for vacation on two separate instances. Dorrissa loved all animals very much. The government considered domestic ones a nuisance, irrelevant and wasteful. The importance of food production was too valuable to include pet food. Pets were banned in the principal population as a result. Jack hadn't heard what Dorrissa had said. He had been thinking about the boarder, Sloan, coming that afternoon. He did not want to share his life with Dorrissa with anyone. He had taken more than enough boarders under his wing over the years and didn't relish the thought of another one. But what could he do?

"Jack, did you hear me? Jack," Dorrissa repeated. She reached out her hands and clapped them briskly.

"Oh...ah...I'm sorry. What did you say Dorry?"

Dorrissa reiterated what she had said.

"Whoa, just a minute now," replied Jack. "Those farm workers have a hard life. Up before daybreak, not finished until well after dark, they work year round in all kinds of inclement weather. I'm certainly glad my genes didn't end up in that selection. We couldn't ask for a better life than we're living."

Jack knew the government was not as high and mighty as it proclaimed to be. Climbing up through the ranks he had witnessed many distasteful things but he was no fool. He knew where his bread was buttered. On a farm center, he smiled to himself, and wisely kept his thoughts private.

"I suppose you're right," replied Dorrissa. No, I know you're right. It's just that I wish..."

"Don't forget Dorry," interjected Jack, "our dream. Remember our dream. Focus on our dream. The way things are going, and the money we are saving, we're sure to be able to retire when we are fifty. That's only five years away. With our rank we'd be approved by the government to rent a small hobby farm or cottage up north somewhere."

"I know. I'm not forgetting."

Jack continued. "People retired and allowed to move up north can own animals. We could have a small garden. There are no sirens to rule your life. We can get up when we want, go to bed when we want. Even if one of us has our rank raised to A+ or A++, we can still be together. You know it's only a change in the letter that would force us to become unpartnered. Unless of course, you decide to leave me some day of your own accord," Jack kidded.

"No never. Not ever my Darling," Dorrissa protested. She got up from the table and threw her arms around Jack to squeeze him tightly. "Of course you're right. I'll always be with you," she whispered in his ear, nibbling delicately on the lobe.

Suddenly she pulled back. Placing her hand on Jack's chin, raising it so their eyes would meet, she said, "It's a good thing the government can't see how much we care for each other. It could jeopardize our A ratings."

Jack didn't reply right away. He nodded his head in agreement thinking not only that but they would give us different ranks just for spite.

"Dorrissa," said Jack finally, firmly and directly, "you've got to promise me something."

"What?" Dorrissa replied, wary of his tone of voice.

"Promise you'll be careful never to show this kind of affection to me in public, okay?"

"I promise."

By 2078 the birthrate was exceedingly down. Increased immigration, which had once been the solution, wasn't working anymore. Even new immigrants didn't want to have children. With people unwilling to procreate, the government determined they must do it for them. This could be done by passing legislation requiring all healthy adults to provide egg and semen samples and preserving them in state-of-the-art frozen cell bank repositories. Human cloning had previously been outlawed. Creating test tube babies seemed to be the logical answer. But they couldn't force people to raise children. That would not produce responsible, well adjusted adults. The government would have to do this also.

But how could they keep natural born children from later association with government raised children and possibly contaminating their values? They couldn't. The only clear way to stop this from happening would be by preventing natural childbirth. After giving this much thought, the government secretively decided to try and develop a serum that, upon injection, would destroy a person's reproductive organs.

In 2080 a law was passed requiring all persons between eighteen and forty years of age to donate two reproductive samples to one of three centralized cell bank repositories that had been built in 2079. This was done on the pretext of safeguarding the country's reproductive capabilities. Government deception explained the purpose of the repositories as being able to accommodate coupled partners that wished to have children in the future, the ability to do so. They said studies showed people's reproductive systems were being detrimentally affected in part by long term consumption of genetically modified foods, environmental contamination and pollution. They also told everyone that scientists were working on a new serum to counteract this. Everyone would then be vaccinated without worry of future reproductive problems.

Jack poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Want to smoke a number?" he asked Dorrissa.

"No thanks. I really want to tidy up and have a shower before the new boarder arrives. I hope he's easier to get along with than that Karen bitch they sent us last time."

Jack chuckled to himself. Ah, Karen he thought. She was a real piece of work. At first she seemed rather pleasant, always saying please and thank you. He remembered her saying, "Your home is so beautiful. I could live here forever."

Within less than a month her real personality emerged. Karen was a slob, plain and simple. The kitchen was always a mess when she left it and her bathroom fared no better. Only average looking at best, she developed the habit of sitting around on weekends dowdy and unkempt. The final straw came one day when they overheard her talking on the phone in an unrelenting and catty manner about the people she lived with. Jack filed a report with the Rank Institute. At a subsequent hearing she was downgraded to an F, sent to live in a space in the city, and work at a factory.

In 2083, the last year of natural childbirth, scientists made their breakthrough and the government realized its objective. The new Rod serum, better known as the Rod shot (which secretly stood for Reproductive Organ Destruction but was referred to as Reproductive Organ Defense) was administered to everyone over eighteen. All persons under that age had to receive it within a week of their eighteenth birthday. Anyone failing to do so would be tracked down, arrested, and sent to prison. Vaccinations that were given to women contained an aborting solution that would terminate any child being carried in the womb. There was wide-spread panic across the country when a simultaneous occurrence of miscarriages took place. The government feigned ignorance but promised to investigate leaving no stone unturned. As time wore on, and no new natural childbirths were happening, it was unanimously determined that the whole population over the age of eighteen had become sterile.

Even though most were not interested in having children, all were outraged that they couldn't. What started as a miniscule outcry had turned into a groundswell. A new political party, called the Peoples Party, was formed in 2086 as a consequence to the turmoil caused by the Rod shot. No one knew of the government's hideous intention in developing the serum. The scientists who devised this catastrophic substance were made scapegoats and the public were told that they had been sent to an Artic prison compound. The government, once they knew the serum worked and not about to take any chances, had gotten rid of them well before the Rod shot was even administered. They were never heard from again. Unfortunately for the country, no one knew or even dreamed how much the new Peoples Party would change the face of society.

Jack took his coffee and sat in the living room. He opened a drawer in the side table by the couch and pulled out a bag of grass. Decriminalized in 2014 and legalized in 2017, it became a tax windfall for the government replacing tobacco which, the use of, was ruled illegal by 2020. He rolled a joint and leisurely placed it between his lips. Although it was readily available to digest in many forms there were lots of people who still enjoyed this old-fashioned method of indulgence. Jack was one of them.

Taking his coffee out onto the balcony, Jack lit up. He sighed as the smoke entered his lungs and watched as leaves fell spiraling down from fruit trees planted many years earlier. A new breed developed from genetically modified grafts designed to withstand pests and disease they had yet to come to fruition. It seemed the government, he laughed at the intended pun, was still trying to 'work out the bugs'. Jack lay back on a settee and smiled as he took another toke. Boy, if the government ever wanted to pacify people and create a laid back society, they sure hit the nail on the head when they legalized this stuff, he thought.

In 2088 the Peoples Party took power becoming the Peoples Government. During the previous five years the former government had steadfastly collected reproductive samples and administered the Rod shot to everyone attaining the age of eighteen. Once in power, the Peoples Government decided to continue this procedure while they studied their options. In the end, for the sake of uniformity and equality so they said, it was carried on. Within another thirteen years, by 2101 they reasoned, all natural born Canadians would have received it, all would be sterile, and the country would be on a level playing field.

Costs associated with building three large cell repositories, the collection of cell samples and statistics, along with ongoing maintenance had all taken a huge financial toll. Taxes rose dramatically in the two years prior to the formation of the Peoples Party and they came to power with a promise to lower taxes. In a clandestine closed door session the government decided to implement a purging of thirty-three percent of existing cell samples as a cost saving measure. This had to be done in a way that would not garner disapproval or lower their public esteem. All samples and corresponding files deemed by them to be least desirable would be transferred to a single location. Once completed, the repository would be blown up with the blame placed on terrorists.

When this took place, in 2089, the government feigned horror, shock, disbelief and finally outrage. "Complete control must be taken and taken now!" they had said. The War Measures Act was proclaimed. All borders were closed, civil rights suspended, non-citizens expelled and the army called out. By no coincidence, upcoming elections were also postponed. All security measures deemed necessary would be taken to protect the remaining two cell repositories.

With the implementation of the War Measures Act and the power that it yielded, the government, after short contemplation, inaugurated change. Canada was made up of provinces and each province had a provincial as well as many municipal governments. Long a thorn in the side of the Federal government, it was time for them all to be abolished. Using the War Measures Act, the provinces along with all lesser forms of government were dissolved. One country only required one government. Cost savings would go towards much needed government projects such as child creation. From now on the Peoples Government would collect all taxes and administer all laws. The Prime Minister, Mr. Philip Jefferts, a Torontonian born and bred, abandoned Ottawa and moved his cabinet ministers into the former Ontario Parliament Buildings at Queen's Park.

In 2090 birthing labs were built throughout the country. Not only could the population level be controlled, but the population itself would be controlled. There would be an end to juvenile vandalism and crime. Children would be raised not only by strict government standards but also to perform specific jobs in society thus guaranteeing one hundred percent employment in the workforce. Legislation was also passed making the government sole inheritor of a person's estate. They were, after all, looking after everyone now from birth until death. Because no one was having children anymore the government was now your next of kin. Most of the country was in complete agreement. The children presently growing up in families would be the last. Being in the nation's best interest, the government believed the public would embrace this idea provided it was presented properly. It was and they did.

The siren sounded in the Yorkton Child Rearing Center. All lights came on simultaneously with a loud thud. Sloan 2168T36 abruptly sprang from his bed and proceeded to dress. Looking around the room, he watched as other Crehus readied themselves for breakfast. No one said a word. That was how they were raised.

Schooling was dusk to dawn. Talking in class was prohibited. Education was for twenty one years, English was the only language taught. Children learned on virtual reality computer programs administered by teachmasters. When older, they would work in classrooms designed for the type of work they would eventually perform.

Sloan was a second generation Crehu created in a birthing lab in 2128. His donor cells came from two Crehus who were eighteen years of age at the time with their identity known only to government lab workers. All Crehus were given a T at birth which stood for temporary. In Sloan's eighteenth year he submitted two cell samples and received the Rod injection. Now in his twenty-first year he would be introduced into society. No partnering was allowed to take place before the age of twenty-five, at which time the rank of T would be substituted by another.

Although the facility was called a child rearing center, Sloan was certainly no child. Strong and stocky, with curly black hair and hazel eyes, he had spent his entire life here, never out of the compound. The only adults he had seen were resident teachmasters and government employees.

By 2092, birthing labs had been built on the outskirts of every city in the country. The first Crehus were conceived that year, reaching full term in 2093. Donor cells of similar characteristics were matched together. The best ratings were groomed for high level government jobs. Sloan's cells were of this type. The lowest ratings were reserved for the menial jobs in society. Child rearing centers were built beside birthing labs and both facilities were guarded and contained in massively fenced compounds with state-of-the-art security features that included closed circuit cameras. Fearful of adult contamination, no one could leave until twenty-one. Only teachmasters, employees, and government overseers were allowed entry. Subjects that pertained to the child's chosen career were taught. History was declared redundant and discarded. Only the history of the Peoples Government was taught, 'Crafted' in their own image. Religion was banned. Anything pertaining to it confiscated and destroyed. Children only needed to know government, being the supreme entity, as creator of all.

While young, both children and teachmasters were continually being moved around so that no bonds of lasting friendship formed. The government would be their only bond. In their tenth year the sexes were separated. Unable to curtail the raging hormones of youth, a blind eye was turned to same sex relationships. At least pregnancy could not result and that was all that mattered. It was the government's view that such relationships were perhaps a meaningless source of fun and a way of relieving tension, thus giving the young Crehus future experience for partnering.

Sloan finished dressing. By now, everyone had departed for the eating area to consume breakfast. He didn't care. He was glad to be leaving today. Twenty one years in this place was more than enough. He was a man now, albeit a loner, and had turned out just as the government had imagined he would. In all the time Sloan had spent growing up amongst different groups of children, the teachmasters had been thorough in the compliance of their duties. Government rules and regulations being what they were, the adults in charge intervened whenever they saw him about to cultivate a relationship with another Crehu. Either he or the other child would be moved elsewhere. It was only during his teenage years that he was cut a bit of slack. The die, unfortunately, had already been cast. He was who he was.

It was when Sloan transferred to the top floor, where all Crehus find themselves in their twenty-first year, that he first met Trent. Their attraction to each other had been dynamic. But Trent had left for the city more than a month before. He had been processed for a life in the medical field and was now practicing that profession. Sloan had been groomed for high level government service. He would be sent to live temporarily with a partnered host couple in a real house outside of the city and meet them for the first time today.

"Hey!"

Sloan looked up. It was Tim 225S23, (S for scholastic) a surly little man new to teachmastering and pompously authoritative.

"Daydream any longer and you can forget about breakfast."

"I'm coming! I was just getting my things together."

"You can do that later. Gonna' miss you Sloany-boy, last day an' all. Hardly got to know you," said Tim, exhibiting a scurrilous smile.

Thank Government for small mercies, thought Sloan.

"What's on the menu today?"

"Leftovers," laughed Tim, as he turned and walked away.

"Just like you," replied Sloan, under his breath making sure Tim couldn't hear him. "I can't wait to blow this place," he said to himself, as he proceeded down the hall to the eating area.

"Hey. It's Sloaner the Moaner, one of the kids bellowed upon his entrance."

Shame shame I know your name, Sloan thought. I'll look him up in the future when I'm settled. He looked at the clock on the wall as he sat down for breakfast. 7:38 a.m. He smiled. Less than four hours to go.

By the time the country's birthing labs started creating the first Crehus, the government was reasonably sure of complete control over the future population but desired an individual safety measure to hedge their bet. This was done with the invention of the DAD microchip - (commonly called Dad Chip) which stood for D.N.A. Activation and Disclosure. In 2101 when the first group of Crehus reached their eighth year, a Dad Chip was surgically implanted in their left armpit. This would be used for future monitoring of a Crehu if need be. After reaching adulthood, upon introduction to society, with a flick of a switch, all Crehus could now be watched and have their every move traced.

Only a few of the upper echelon in government knew the real terminology for it. It was a well guarded secret. They classified it as D.N.A. Activation and Destruction. In a worst case scenario, a high frequency microwave could target a specific D.N.A. makeup and cause that unique, one-of-a-kind, microchip to break down and dissolve. This would release an irremediable toxic poison resulting in instantaneous death.

Painless and untraceable, the death would resemble a heart attack. Autopsies were now obsolete, having been deemed needless expenditures. Everyone knew of the chip for monitoring Crehus and accepted the importance of it. Only a select few cabinet ministers and the Crehu monitoring center managers knew the finality of high frequency microwaves. For any non-law abiding Crehu, instead of the high cost of Artic imprisonment, this would indeed be their 'final solution'.

After showering and getting dressed, Dorrissa rejoined Jack in the living room.

"Ready for a number?" he asked.

"Not now. The new boarder will be here in a few hours and you shouldn't be getting stoned either."

"Oh yes, first impressions and all, eh?"

Jack, being in a pleasant state of mind, watched as Dorrissa sank into the oversized armchair across from him. Crossing her legs on a matching footstool, she let out a sigh of contentment.

"I have a surprise for you tonight," quipped Jack.

"What?"

"You'll see later."

"Come on Jack, don't do that to me."

"Do what?" Jack asked in delighted innocence.

"You know very well that I feel a surprise is only good when it happens and the longer the anticipation the less of a surprise," Dorrissa responded.

Knowing a good retreat when he saw one, Jack said, "I'm going to be on the media screen tonight."

"Are you kidding?" said Dorrissa, her curiosity peaking.

"I'm going to be on the Crime Channel. The government busted a Family Survival Group on Friday morning. Apparently they had been monitoring this lady for some time and a raid was carried out. They caught seven of them all together. You should have seen the stuff they confiscated."

Dorrissa was sitting on the edge of her seat motionless, eyes bulging, mouth agape. She had heard of these groups, though only through gossip. No one she knew had ever seen proof of their existence. Jack, seeing Dorrissa so affected, became more excited.

"Up until now the government always prosecuted these people in secrecy. It was their contention that any publicity of these groups could lead to more of them being formed. Unfortunately the reverse seemed to be the case. People getting involved out of sheer curiosity are being brainwashed, with more and more becoming converts. The government has now decided to expose them to the whole country and let everyone see the consequences they will suffer."

"But what stuff? What did they confiscate?"

"They had books, films, things on history from long ago. I've heard about it, but never seen it until now. There were old television shows about families. One was called Leave it to Beaver, another Little House on the Prairie. They also had children's books and stories. Dick and Jane or something, I don't know. I had to go verify and document them. Everything was videotaped and destroyed. What they did is even worse than tobacco smuggling. They will all be downgraded to a Z rating."

"What will happen to them?" Dorrissa asked showing concern.

"We all know Z stands for zero and that's their apparent worth now. They are being held in a containment fortification right at this moment. But come Monday morning, they'll be off to Hotel California."

Hotel California. That was a slang name given to the Artic prison compounds. The head of the Supreme Court coined that name after a century old song he remembered hearing when he was a boy that stated, 'you can go there but you can never leave'. People sent there were never heard from again and that suited the law abiding population just fine. Family Survival Groups, given that term by the government, existed to remind people what it was like before birthing labs and child rearing centers. They would show films and read books in underground gatherings. These groups consisted of people who wanted to reverse the direction that the country had taken by bringing families and natural childbirth back into mainstream society. They would try, using any means necessary the government believed, to recruit others into their groups and win them over.

The Peoples Government considered these groups to be antagonistic and hostile towards them, undermining everything they were trying to accomplish. It was the government's opinion that Family Survival Groups were made up of dangerous radicals who posed a most perilous threat to their administration. Anyone found involved in such a group would be given no tolerance and exiled to an Artic prison compound. The government had always worried about the formation of such groups. It had been decided long ago to remove children from the entire population so the longings of motherhood, parenting and natural procreation would wane and eventually disappear. Simply put, the government did not want people to have children around. For this reason, all television, movies, or anything pertaining to or showing children or families in any form was decreed unlawful and banned.

The front entrance buzzer shattered the silence as it blared over the loudspeaker. Jack and Dorrissa were contemplating lunch at the time.

"I'll get it," said Dorrissa, rising from her chair. As she walked down the hall, she passed a potted fern and made a mental note to herself that it could use a good watering. Upon opening the door, she saw a rather attractive young man standing before her. Black curly hair poked out from under a cream colored fedora that was pushed back and tilted sideways at a precarious angle atop his head. Piercing hazel eyes, dimpled chin and a full sensuous mouth completed the picture.

"Hi, come on in. My name is Dorrissa. Welcome to our home. Just put your bags down here for now and I'll take your coat and hat."

Sloan, not uttering a single word, stepped in and placed two suitcases on the floor beside the wall. Dorrissa, thinking this seemed quite strange, closed the door behind him, took his coat and hat and put them in the hall closet.

"We'll leave your things in the foyer for a minute. Come and meet my partner."

Sloan followed Dorrissa down the hall, passing an alcove containing two burning candles that rested on a mantle. A large picture of the Peoples Government showing all the cabinet ministers sat between them. Upon entering the large, lavishly furnished living room, Sloan's eyes bugged out at the sight of the luxurious surroundings.

"This is my partner Jack," said Dorrissa, as Jack rose from his seat to greet the new boarder.

"My name is Sloan 2168T36," said the stranger, with a seemingly, pathetic indifference.

"No need to be so formal. We go by names, rather than numbers, in this house," said Jack, as he smiled graciously, extending his hand in welcome. Sloan vacantly stared at the hand. With a look of remembrance flashing across his face he reached into his back pocket, pulled out an envelope, and placed it into Jack's outstretched hand.

"Here are my papers."

Jack looked at the envelope. It was addressed, Jack 1145A12 & Dorrissa 172A12 Personal and Confidential.

"Why don't we all have a seat," Jack suggested.

The refusal of a handshake bothered him. After reading the contents thoroughly he said, "Well Sloan, everything seems to be in order. I have to take you to the city tomorrow and get you an identity card so you will be ready for work on Monday morning. I was thinking..."

"I'd like to come too," Dorrissa interrupted with excitement. "It's been an unbelievably long time since I was there last and I think I'd like to indulge myself and do some window shopping."

"Window shopping?" questioned Jack, wearing a half mischievous smile.

"Hearing problem?" was the saucy, obstinate retort.

"Welcome to the real world Sloan," said Jack, still trying to gauge the manner of their new boarder.

"Could you show me where my space is occupied?"

"We don't call them spaces here, Sloan. We call them rooms. First we'll grab your bags. Your room is just down the hall," said Dorrissa.

"And space isn't occupied here. It's us that occupy space," replied Jack.

"You don't say," Dorrissa muttered at Jack's wit, as she left the room with Sloan in tow.

Jack leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger back and forth over the unshaven stubble on his chin and entered into deep thought. A puzzled look came over his face. Who was this man, this Crehu, Sloan 2168T36? He'd only been in this room for a few minutes but his mannerisms seemed abrupt and unfriendly. There is something, I'm not quite sure he thought, but something. I just can't seem to put my finger on it.

It bothered Jack to think that he had to share his home with a person that made him feel, not afraid, but uneasy. Unfortunately, most residents of homes were obligated to take in boarders, upon their departure from child rearing facilities, who were destined for swift rising in the ranks. These recently graduated Crehus needed to be introduced to society gradually. Still, he thought, this is not the first time we've hosted boarders. In the previous eight years there have been close to two dozen passing through our home. Jack looked out the window. The sun was trying to break through. He felt the roughness of his whiskers which made a scratching noise as his fingertips rubbed them. He knew what he must do in order to size Sloan up. He had to mentally feel him out and search for his hidden personality.

"This will be your room while you're living with us," Dorrissa announced briskly. "Clean bedding is in the closet and there is a dresser for your clothes. You've never seen a real antique wooden dresser before I'd wager. Both it and the closet are lined with red cedar and give off a most exquisite aroma. The bathroom down the hall is all yours. We have our own en suite off our bedroom. I'll leave you to get organized now. Are you hungry? Jack and I were thinking of having some lunch."

"No, I'm fine."

"Very well then, when you are ready to see the rest of the house or if you have any questions you'd like answered, we will be in the living room. See you later."

"Later," said Sloan, as he placed his luggage on the floor. Cool. My own bathroom he thought.

Dorrissa returned to the living room and was about to sit down beside Jack when he suddenly rose and moved towards the window, motioning for her to follow.

"I don't like it," he said, in a low whisper that only she could hear. First impressions were very important to Jack and something about Sloan seemed to arouse a feeling of great anxiety in him.

"What do you think of Sloan?" he said, emphasizing the word you.

"It's hard to tell yet. I will admit there is a certain aloofness about him that irritates me, but perhaps he is just shy. This being his first day away from the only life he has ever known and been accustomed to. Why don't we give him the benefit of doubt and see what develops?"

"Maybe you're right. I just don't know. We'd better keep our wits about us though. I'm having bad vibes about this and I'll most definitely be glad when he's gone."

After a light lunch, Jack and Dorrissa retired to the living room to idly lounge in front of the media screen, the modern day television set. It was the full height of a wall, just as wide, and the picture was completely three dimensional. It was also a two-way monitor that gave government the ability to interrupt programming at any time and come directly into their living quarters to see and converse with them. The potential of that happening, although rare, was enough to keep any Crehu on their toes. Most telephones and computers also had two-way viewing capability. Content for all channels was prescribed and regulated by the government. These consisted of the Crime Channel, news and weather channels, learning channels, comedy and relationship channels (same sex and opposite sex programming) and movie channels. There were also sports channels and government information channels.

After watching tomorrow's weather forecast (mix of rain and cloud), Jack turned to the Crime Channel. The purpose of this channel was not only to replace, for the most part, the justice system of courts and trials but also to keep the public in line by remembering that, But for the Grace of Government go I.

"C'mon Jack. Let's not spoil a nice day."

"The video of that Family Survival Group should be on tonight. I wouldn't want to miss it."

"Gee wiz Jack. It's just reruns now. Nothing new comes on the media screen until eight. That is when you will get to see whether or not you're as good looking as you think you are," Dorrissa teased.

"What d'ya mean?" Jack questioned in pouting protest. "Well, I guess we could surf through the movie channels."

"Now you're talking!"

After arranging his personal effects, Sloan strolled to the bathroom stopping to look at the different pictures hanging in the hall on the way. The door was open. There were no surprises here. He sensed there would be a bathtub. He had never seen a real one before. There were only showers at the child rearing facility. Sloan locked the door and quickly shed his clothes. He ascertained a moderate temperature, stepped in and sat down. Staying for almost a full ninety minutes, he was truly in paradise.

Looking up from the screen, Jack glimpsed Sloan as he rounded the corner.

"Hey, come on in and grab a seat," he said, in the friendliest voice he could muster. "We're just catching a flick. It should be over momentarily."

Sloan eased himself into an oversized hi-back and saw that they were watching some kind of outer space adventure. Dorrissa said hi. He and the other students back at the center were rarely given the time to watch movies.

When it was finished, Dorrissa took him on a tour of the house. Off the kitchen was a dining room that, in turn, led into a gathering room containing over-stuffed couches and chairs and had a sound system for listening to music. There was also a main floor laundry room. The basement consisted of an exercise room, built in sauna, washroom with a shower, and a walk-out patio to the backyard.

Sloan was profoundly impressed. He had never imagined that Crehus could live like this. What a sheltered life his had been. He then and there resolved to work long and hard to achieve, or rather surmount, this lifestyle. Wanting it so bad he could taste it, and it tasted sweet.

That evening, after a dinner that was awkward in terms of conversation, the three of them huddled in front of the media screen. Jack had tuned in to the Crime Channel.

"Sloan," Jack asked, "have you ever watched the Crime Channel?"

"I watched it whenever I could. It's my favorite reality show. The motto being, said our head teachmaster, A lesson taught, a lesson learned."

"I see. Well... I have a surprise for you, for us all, tonight."

Jack went on to tell Sloan about what had happened on Friday. Sloan hadn't heard of Family Survival Groups. They were never mentioned in child rearing centers. Even adults had only heard rumors of their existence. Tonight, for the first time, the whole country would see one of them being arrested.

"It's on!" Dorrissa yelled in excitement.

They watched astoundingly as government controllers, which was what law enforcement personnel were now called, stormed the basement of a building. Four females and three males were taken into custody. Two of the males resisted and were beaten savagely into submission. It was all very repulsive.

"Oh My Government!" cried out Dorrissa. "I know that lady."

"What?" Jack exclaimed.

Sloan averted his eyes from the screen and gazed upon Dorrissa in wonderment. Seeing his reaction and quickly realizing the difficulty her statement had placed Jack and herself in, she replied, "I don't really know her. Not socially or anything. Her name is Marge and she works at the food allocation area. She always lets me know what the specials are."

Trying to divert Sloan's attention from Dorrissa's original comment, Jack replied, "Who will let us know what the specials are now?"

An intermingling nervous laughter, although Sloan didn't join in, helped to change the subject. Turning back to the media screen, they saw Jack mugging for the camera in photogenic splendor.

"Hello. This is Ryan 1342N20 (N for newsperson) reporting for the government Crime Channel. I'm here with Jack 1145A12 who is representing the Rank Institute and is documenting evidence against these people. Jack, can you tell me what the controllers have found?"

"Yes I can Ryan. It appears to be a collection of twentieth century artifacts, all propaganda, created solely for the purpose of establishing a harmonious society that never really existed in the first place."

"Uh huh, could you elaborate on that?"

"Most certainly. There are ancient copies of television shows that were made to let viewers see the pretense of supposedly happy family life with exhibited fun and laughter, joy and togetherness. It is preposterous, dogmatic nonsense. We all know that juvenile crime and violence was rampant back then. Society was facing inevitable doom and the government, in its wisdom, took control of an alarming situation. These people also had books pertaining to families and children. It was all very repugnant by its nature."

"Did you get a chance to view the films or look at any of the books?"

"Apparently the films are being studied as we speak. It's my understanding that they will be destroyed upon their conclusion and the viewing of them is illegal to anyone other than government judicial officials. I did get a chance to leaf through a couple of books though and their concepts, I must say, were unbelievably ridiculous."

"Can you tell me Jack, what will happen to these people?"

"Yes Ryan. They will be deported to an Artic prison compound and incarcerated for their remaining lifetime. Sufficient to say, it's a grave penalty."

"I think we can surmise a double meaning in the word grave, Jack."

"Oh. Did I make a pun? Well never mind. The point being, the punishment fits the crime. Anyone, and I repeat, anyone, apprehended in this sinister activity will face the exact same outcome. Repent or beware!"

"Thanks very much Jack. Ladies and gentlemen we have just been speaking with Jack 1145A12 from the Rank Institute. Now it's back to crime control. This is Ryan 1342N20 saying goodnight all."

Jack clicked off the media screen and slammed his fist down on the arm of the couch. "Damn, they cut off my goodbye." Quickly regaining his composure he asked, "Well folks, what did you think?"

"Pretty impressive," said Dorrissa.

"Interesting," dead panned Sloan. "I knew that you must have a fairly high position in government but I didn't know you worked at the Rank Institute. What's it like?"

"Just a job Sloan, just a job," said Jack, as he sat in contentment trying hard to remain stolid and nonchalant. While Jack was leaning towards believing Sloan to be fake and contrived, Sloan considered Jack to be a boor and overtly arrogant. The stage looked to be set and the battle lines seemed to be drawn.

The three conversed for a while longer until Dorrissa declared it was time for her to call it a night. Sloan never acknowledged her leaving and Jack said, "Farewell. Yonder lays thy pillow. Go rest ye weary head. Sleep the sleep of the righteous and dream the dreams of greatness. See ya later kiddo."

Jack asked Sloan if he had ever had a beer. Of which the reply was a solid no. Bringing two back from the fridge, he handed one to Sloan, who took a drink. "Yuk, how can you drink this stuff?"

"Relax. It's a taste you have to acquire. It's actually quite good for you. They say there's a steak in every bottle."

"You don't say. Maybe I'll become a vegetarian."

Did Jack hear right? Did Sloan make a joke? Could he be wrong about him? He was tempted to ask Sloan if he wanted to smoke a joint before they crashed for the night. Perhaps that would be a good way to check him out. Common sense kicked in however, and told him that would be a foolhardy thing to do. Thank Government for common sense, he thought.

"Do you want another beer?" asked Jack, downing his.

"No I'm fine."

"What's the matter? Kissing the bottle?"

"No I just finished. I think I'd like to go to bed," said Sloan, standing up to leave.

"Suit yourself. Hope you don't miss the other boys too much tonight."

Sloan shot Jack one of those perpetual ~if looks could kill you'd be dead~ glances and then turned his head and briskly walked away. Almost out of the room, he stopped and turned. Speaking to Jack point blank, he asked, "What did you mean by that remark?"

"I was just kidding. It was a joke."

"It sounded more like an insinuation to me."

"If you thought that I was implying that you like boys you're wrong. Your sexual persuasion, whatever it may be, is none of my concern. I apologize if you think I was. No harm was intended. Better get some sleep. The siren sounds early."

Sloan turned and walked away.

"Goodnight," said Jack, his salutation falling upon empty shadows. Getting up and going to the fridge, Jack opened himself another cold one. Hmm, he protests too loudly methinks. I must have touched a nerve. It just might mean that our new boarder has been bred for the uppermost reaches of power. Jack took his beer outside to smoke a joint. I need to unwind, chill out or something, he thought. He lit the joint and inhaled tremulously, standing in the damp night air. I wish Dorrissa was here he thought. I hate smoking alone.

Sloan hopped into bed and pulled the covers up under his chin. He was wide awake now, more than ever. His mind was racing. What an insolent Crehu of a bitch, he thought. I'll fix both him and his partner. I can report Dorrissa to the crime commission. I'll do it anonymously. For all she'll know, it could've been someone from the food allocation area where she shops. But what if she doesn't know anyone else? They'll figure out it was me. Not even one day here and I'm informing on my host. That sure won't look good on my record. I'll have to bide my time. Why did he even think that? Does it show? No way. I'm much too careful. I'll get even. Wait and see. He'll rue the day he insulted me. Just like the mouthy kid back at the center, recalled Sloan.

He had made fun of the affection that Sloan and Trent had shown for each other. One day, when no one was looking, Sloan tripped him going down the stairs. He broke his neck and died instantly. He never meant to kill him. Just break a leg or something. Big deal, rationalized Sloan at the time. The kid got what was coming to him.

"And you'll get yours, Jack," Sloan said, under his breath, "soon enough."

"What time is it?" enquired Dorrissa, in a drowsy tone, finishing with a yawn.

"Just after midnight," replied Jack.

"Why are you coming to bed so late?"

"I had some thinking to do. Sorry I woke you."

"Oh Jack. If it's about me knowing that woman, I'm sorry. I never thought..."

"Relax. Sloan has long forgotten about that. He's got something new to think about."

"What?"

"The fact I insinuated that he is queer."

"Jack! Are you mad? Tell me you didn't?"

"It just popped out, accidentally, sort of. Subconsciously, like I was testing the waters. I really didn't think about it. But he shook with rage. I think I caught a live one."

"But we have to live with him?" Dorrissa persisted.

"It's okay, really. I apologized. He'll have forgotten all about it by morning."

Jack didn't believe that for an instant but it was important for him to reassure Dorrissa. That mattered immensely.

"Hey, Dorry baby?"

"Yes, Jackie baby?" Dorrissa chuckled.

"There's something else I'd like to make shake with rage."

"What?"

"Your body."

"Oh, you're bad," squealed Dorrissa.

Slipping his right arm underneath the small of her back, Jack snuggled closer and whispered in Dorrissa's ear, "This is truly, truly, truly, my favorite room in the house."

The next morning arrived far earlier than Jack would have liked, not that he didn't have a sound sleep. He just wished that it could have been longer.

"Come on Honey, a shower will wake you up," said Dorrissa.

Jack and Dorrissa jumped into the shower together and let the hot water cascade upon their sinewy frames. He slipped behind her and began shampooing her tumbled down hair. The fragrance of the lather combined with the closeness of her body yielded an especially amorous erection. Feeling it brush across the dimpled cheeks of her ass, Dorrissa turned and smiled lewdly saying, "Why Jack. I told you a shower would wake you up."

"Wait," she directed. Slowly she removed a charm bracelet from her wrist. Placing it on his manly shaft in an embellishing manner, Dorrissa looked deep into Jack's eyes and said, "Charm me."

Once dressed, they proceeded to the kitchen where they found Sloan scouring the cupboards. "Do you have any cereal?" he asked, belligerently.

"Why? You hungry?" was Jack's sarcastic reply.

"Hey guys, lighten up," pleaded Dorrissa. "Jack told me what happened last night and he feels really bad about it. It was a complete misunderstanding and a bad choice of words. He meant to say that he hoped you don't miss your friends too much. Now we all have to live together here, for I don't know how long, so let's start fresh and you can begin by shaking hands."

Jack thought it was a little late for that. Sloan should have shaken his hand yesterday.

After they begrudgingly shook hands, Dorrissa added, "That's better. Sloan, the answer to your question is yes we have lots of cereal but unfortunately we are out of canned milk. You and Jack can go into the living room and watch the morning news. I'll fix us all something good and call you both when it's ready."

While she prepared breakfast, Dorrissa listened for signs of compatibility. Conversation was being kept to a bare minimum. Oh well, she thought, it takes time to mend fences, to cement relationships, to change acquaintanceship into friendship. Perhaps there is still a chance it might happen. Government only knows we have time.

After breakfast, they readied themselves for the trip to the city. It had been months, before the start of summer, since Dorrissa's last venture into the throng of more than ten million people. Thinking of the various malls, the many different stores and the vast concentration of people, gave her a restless, excited feeling. Jack, on the other hand, could care less. The overcrowding, the traffic, the noise and the pollution, had all surpassed the point of even saying ~ it's a nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there ~ in his opinion. Too bad it was the center of the Crehu population and the only place where a new citizen could be carded.

Sloan sat in the back of the car as Jack pulled out of the driveway. No matter how much he disliked his present companions, Sloan couldn't disguise the thrill of adventure that poured out in every question he asked.

"How long before we get there? What's that big building? Can we ride in the front of the train? Will we take a tour of the Parliament Buildings? Do we have time to go to the museum?" With more words in thirty minutes than the whole preceding day, he was a veritable chatterbox.

After answering what seemed like an infinite number of questions, they arrived at the city limits. Jack reversed his car into one of the designated spots and hailed a shuttle bus to take them to the train station. All personal forms of transportation, including bicycles, were banned within the city. It had become too populous for their use. The only forms of public transportation allowed above ground, were buses and streetcars. Taxi's and government vehicles were an exception to the rule. Many roads had previously been closed and were now used exclusively for pedestrian traffic.

Streets still being used for surface transportation had their sidewalks widened up to four times their original width making the majority of them one way. Miles and miles of underground subways had been built previously as a practical solution to move the people. All above and below transit routes in the city were already at, or approaching, maximum capacity. The city that Jack, Dorrissa, and Sloan were entering was one of the largest in the world.

Sloan leaped from the steps of the shuttle bus and ran to the front of a waiting train. Jack and Dorrissa ran hard to keep up, knowing that if he got away they'd lose him for sure. He was their responsibility. Lucky the train had just arrived and was not yet full. Sloan pushed his way up to the front window. Jack and Dorrissa grabbed a seat by the door where they could keep an eye on him.

"I've never seen anything like it," said Jack.

"I know. Watching him reminded me of a child. Just like the ones I see at the center."

"You're right! It reminded me of my childhood which I haven't thought about for... I don't know how long? Was I ever a child?"

Smiling, Dorrissa said, "Of course you were. We all were. I think about it from time to time whenever I enter the child rearing center at Wycliffe. The vast majority of us, unfortunately not being around children, have forgotten what it was like to be one." "Keep your voice down," Jack whispered nervously, as the train was still letting on people. "What do you mean unfortunately?"

"Oh nothing I guess. Don't worry Jack. I'm sure the government is working on a plan right now to create full grown adults and bypass the child stage entirely."

"Don't joke like that! You could get us in a lot of trouble." Jack turned his head to look out the window and didn't turn back to face Dorrissa until reaching their destination. It was the only way to shut her up, he thought. Thank Government no one had heard her.

After coming to a stop at Government Station, they departed the train and made their way to the Parliament Buildings. Both Jack and Dorrissa were required to sign Sloan's papers in front of a government official while he posed for a photograph to go on his identity card. After the formalities were finished it was arranged for Sloan to take a guided group tour of the buildings and grounds.

The tour would take approximately four hours and included lunch. It was decided that Jack would take Dorrissa shopping and they would meet Sloan back at the tour office at five p.m. After jostling through what seemed like a myriad of pedestrians, they finally found themselves at the entrance to PEOPLES, the large government owned and operated department store which was one of many throughout the city. With the depletion of their once lucrative petroleum operations, the government moved into merchandising in a big way, bankrupting many reputable companies in the process. If the government store didn't have it, no one did.

"Would you like some lunch before shopping?" Jack asked.

"At an upscale restaurant?" wondered Dorrissa.

"What else."

"Now you're talking. Let's go. What an ingenious idea!"

They made their way out to the middle of the street which provided for easier walking. Seven blocks later, a neon sign flashed, The Gastronome. Though never having been a customer before, its reputation preceded itself. A fancy dressed doorman ushered them inside to a waiting line in the foyer.

"This lineup is nuts. Wait here a second Dorry."

Approaching a tuxedoed gentleman, obviously an employee, on the side of a roped off entrance, Jack asked the man how long it would take to obtain a table for two.

"Do you have a reservation Sir?"

"No, ah, unfortunately we decided to come on the spur of the moment."

"Well that is most unfortunate Sir. As you can see, all these people are waiting patiently to get in. Judging by the lineup, I would estimate a period of close to one or one and a half hours before they are all accommodated."

Clearing his throat to gain the man's full attention, Jack pointed to his identity card. "Do you see my rank?"

"I'm sorry Sir," the man replied. "Rank won't help you here."

"Hmm," remarked Jack, as he reached into his pocket and produced a shiny, one hundred dollar coin. Demurely flashing its existence by his pants pocket he asked, "Would this help Frank?" reading the man's name on his identity card.

With continued monetary losses to businesses, caused by non stop counterfeiting, paper currency had been discontinued. It was replaced by a system consisting exclusively of coins. All denominations below a dollar were eradicated and items for purchase were rounded off to the nearest dollar. Dollar coins were the size of a thumbnail. Two dollar coins a bit bigger and so on. Five, ten, twenty, fifty and one hundred dollar coins were made from light weight material of different size, color and shape, being round, square, triangular, or oblong, for easier recognition. A new type of wallet was designed to accommodate this monetary system and was a necessary purchase since a hole in your pocket would leave you poorer but wiser.

Frank looked down at the money and back at Jack without the least show of emotion. Then, with a swift glance in both directions to make sure no one was watching, quickly palmed the coin.

"I'll see what I can do Sir," said Frank.

"Thank you," replied Jack, as he turned and walked back to where Dorrissa stood in line.

"Jack, it's going to take ages before we get a seat. We had better go somewhere else."

"Let's just give it a few more minutes shall we."

"But..."

"No buts. It seems they've misplaced our reservation but they are rechecking their records," said Jack, arching his eyebrows and smiling demurely.

Dorrissa nodded knowingly. People were listening. Not the time for explanations. She hooked her arm around Jack's and squeezed it tightly in delight. A few minutes later, Frank appeared.

"My most humble apologies Sir. We have indeed located your reservation. The person who recorded it did so in an illegible manner and shall be reprimanded. Please, if you will follow me right this way.

Yes, Jack thought, money certainly comes in handy sometimes. There are definitely things that your identity card cannot buy. Cash is still king.

After lunch in the Parliamentary cafeteria, Sloan accompanied the guided tour throughout the buildings. He learned all about government in center school on the eighth floor. He had even taken a virtual reality tour of the buildings. But after all, only real is real, and he enjoyed seeing and hearing every bit of it. At approximately two thirty the group moved outside to roam the grounds and view the many statues and monuments that occupied the lush lawns and gardens, this type of government history being permissible. Not long into this part of the tour, an unmistakable voice, coming from far away and barely audible, resonated through the crowd. Sloan could feel his heart palpitating, his body quivering, as he turned around and squinted into the distance. It couldn't be? Is it? It is!

"Sloan!" He could hear it louder now. "Sloan!"

Trent was striding across the lawn, his face beaming in delight.

"What are you doing here?" Trent could barely contain his excitement. "You're the last person I'd ever expect to see."

Sloan, overcome by emotion, threw his arms up and around Trent's broad shoulders drawing him nearer, squeezing him tightly, becoming one.

"Miss me?" laughed Trent.

"Shit. Sorry," Sloan replied as he broke off his embrace. Being inhibited in his own sexual mores, he quickly looked around to see if anyone had been watching them. Thank Government for small mercies, he thought.

"Relax dude," said Trent. "Everyone here hugs. It's a really affectionate city."

That indeed was very much the case. Not only was the country's capital one of the largest cities in the world, but the government was pleased to have the honorable distinction of being recognized as the largest gay city in the world. Being known as most tolerant in their acceptance of the gay lifestyle, homosexual immigration had flourished the century before.

Canada could proudly proclaim itself to be a country of firsts. It was one of the first countries to legalize gay marriage, allow gays the right to adopt children, enshrine gay rights in the constitution and open their borders to the mass immigration of gays. The government proclaimed gays to be model citizens and espoused their virtues. They didn't cause trouble. They paid their taxes on time and, more importantly, they didn't produce delinquent offspring. Gays were perfect in every way. Even later, with the introduction of the Rod shot, there was little concern to gay immigrants. They still came in droves. Their public shows of affection for each other had long ceased to draw stares or provoke a response. On the other hand, heterosexual shows of affection reminded the government of their moral fight against families, especially Family Survival Groups, and were very much frowned upon in public.

Feeling more secure now, Sloan took a few paces backward and said, "Trent. I can't believe that it's really you. Pinch me. No, just kidding. Let me look at you."

Trent was five feet eleven inches tall; two inches taller than Sloan, with sandy colored hair and brown eyes. Combined with a long thin nose, sharp chin and dazzling smile, he was a sight for sore eyes.

"You've lost some weight," said Sloan.

"Maybe a bit," replied Trent.

"You look good."

"I feel good."

"Can I feel it?"

Both of them burst out laughing.

"What are you doing here?" they both uttered simultaneously, provoking even more laughter.

"You first," said Trent, eyes dancing in merriment.

Sloan began with everything that had happened since that fateful day, as he calls it, when Trent had outgrown and had to leave the center. He told him about his host partners and the animosity he felt for Jack.

"What time are they coming back to pick you up?" asked Trent.

"Five o'clock."

"Look, it's only two thirty now. My space is about a fifteen minute walk from here. Why don't you come over and check it out? I can get you back by five."

"That sounds good. Lead the way."

Trent filled in the events of his life to Sloan as they walked. He was apprenticing as an understudy to Dr. Willister Hampstead. Natural born humans retained their surnames. The hospital was named Blake Central, one of the better hospitals in the city. It was ten minutes away by subway, longer by surface route. Since Dr. Hampstead's seniority allowed him weekends off, Trent, being his understudy, also got them off for now. On weekends he usually took walks around the city and it was just by chance that he decided to walk around the Parliament grounds today. As Sloan walked alongside, he couldn't help notice the large amount of gays, mostly men, holding hands and flirting openly with each other.

Jack and Dorrissa finished their lunch and were back within the confines of PEOPLES by three o'clock. Dorrissa wanted to look at dresses in particular. They had received a verbal invitation to attend a very prestigious celebration on New Year's Eve at the home of the Right Honorable Charles Jacobstown, their local Member of Parliament. It was rumored that there might be one or two cabinet ministers there. New Year's Eve was the second most important holiday of the year after Government Day. Jack believed it to be only a matter of time before they received a written formal invitation in the mail. Even though almost all correspondence was done by phone, fax, or e-mail, nothing could ever completely replace government mail service. The personal joy of receiving a letter, card or invitation had been, and still was, a cherished priority, too close to a person's heart to ever discontinue.

Sloan followed Trent off the elevator and down the hall, stopping in front of a huge metal door. Trent removed his identity card from its plastic pouch and inserted it into the slot. The green light went out and Trent opened the door. "Here we are, Space Sweet Space."

"It's, ah, rather compact isn't it," replied Sloan, in comparison to Jack and Dorrissa's place.

"Yea, they're not built for entertaining but it'll do. Hey. Have you tasted alcohol yet? Bet you haven't?"

"You'd lose that bet buddy. I had a beer last night but I forgot to tell you that. It didn't impress me though. I thought it tasted rather gross."

"Let me fix you a man's drink, a rye and water. One day, when I can afford it, I'll drink Scotch, just like Dr. Hampstead. Grab a seat. I'll be right with you."

Trent turned on the stereo and proceeded to pour two stiff drinks. Sloan walked over to the window to check out the view. You could see past the Parliament Buildings for quite some distance. With thousands of people scurrying in constant movement far below, looking like bugs, it made it so much nicer to be up high. Up above the world, where he belonged.

"Here," said Trent, giving Sloan a large, highball tumbler, "we do it like this."

Crossing and locking arms, glasses to their mouths, Trent said, "Last one to finish is a rotten heterosexual."

It was a tie.

"Bet you can't do that again," said Trent.

Feeling a little squeamish but not one to admit defeat, Sloan said, "Bring it on."

After one more drink, too close to call, they called a truce. Trent could see that Sloan had developed a very sallow complexion. Just because he himself was a man of the world, having been on his own for almost a full five weeks, didn't necessarily mean he had to rub it in. But he liked to.

"You better sit down youngster before you fall down," Trent laughed.

Helping Sloan to the sofa, he sat down beside him.

"Where do you sleep here?" Sloan asked.

"If I move that chair over there, I can access a pull-out bed that is built into the wall."

"I think I need to lie down for a minute. I'm beginning to feel a bit queasy."

"Hang on," said Trent, as he got up to push the chair aside. No sooner had he pulled the bed down into position, Sloan threw up all over himself.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Sloan, pressing his hand tight against his mouth.

"C'mon quick," said Trent, hurrying Sloan to the bathroom.

With his head hovered over the toilet bowel, Sloan relinquished himself of the remainder of his cafeteria lunch. After he had finished, Trent helped him up and over to the wash basin.

"It's a good thing we wear the same size clothes. Let's get you out of these," said Trent, undressing him. Stripped down to his briefs, Trent led Sloan over and helped him lie on the bed. Sitting on the bedside, Trent placed his hand on Sloan's stomach.

"How are you now?"

"I'm feeling a bit better."

Sliding his hand down Sloan's stomach, Trent replied, "I think I can make you feel a whole lot better."

Dorrissa had just finished purchasing a shimmering, ruby-red gown. Jack had told her that she looked splendidly delicious from the front, elegantly naked from the rear, and as far as the side profile was concerned, he was utterly speechless.

"What time is it you flatterer?" asked Dorrissa

"Ten past five. We'd better get going.

Meanwhile, Sloan and Trent were having such a marvelous time together they failed to take notice of the time at all until the phone rang.

"Shit! Look at the time," exclaimed Sloan. "It's twenty past five. I'm really in for it now."

"Push the chair to one side and grab a change of clothes from my closet. I'll answer the phone and then we're out of here."

Trent picked up the phone, automatically activating the two way cameras. It was Victor, one of the young Interns who worked at the hospital.

"Hey, what's up?" said Trent.

Gazing at Trent's bare-chested, robustly muscular body, Victor flashed a leering grin saying, "Hi Stud. How's it hanging? Oh my, such a tantalizing morsel. Hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"Yea, I'll bet. I'm actually drawing a bath and it's close to overflowing."

"Hey, I'd love to join you."

"Yea, sure you would. I'll have to get back to you Vic."

"I'll be here."

"Okay bye," said Trent, hanging up the phone.

"Who was that?" asked Sloan, trying hard to hide the jealousy that he was feeling.

"It was no one important. Hurry up and dress. We gotta split."

Waiting for the elevator, Sloan enquired why some of the spaces have green lights on and others don't. Trent explained that there were life indicators inside all the units. If a person's space was occupied, the green light would go out. If not, it would remain on.

Once on the street they began running in the direction of the Parliament Buildings. As best they could considering the crowd. Reaching their destination just before six, dusk was now enveloping the city.

"I've got to go now!" said Sloan. "You stay here."

"Wait," said Trent, grabbing Sloan by the sleeve and pulling him under the streetlight. "I have to give you my phone number."

Reaching into his side coat pocket, Trent removed a pen and small notebook and scribbled down his number. Tearing the page from the book, he placed it in the palm of Sloan's hand. Closing Sloan's fingers over it with a firm squeeze, he looked deep into Sloan's eyes and said, "Call me."

"You know I will," answered Sloan.

Walking briskly into the impending night air, Jack and Dorrissa were now across the street from the Parliament Buildings.

"Isn't that Sloan underneath that streetlamp?" asked Dorrissa.

Jack squinted for a clearer view. Sloan's fedora stuck out like a sore thumb. "Yes. I believe it is."

They both watched in still silence.

Trent placed his arm around Sloan's waist and pulled him near for a tight embrace. Sloan's body stiffened as he struggled to get away, but Trent retained a firm, powerful grip over him.

"Easy fella, there's no one here," said Trent, assuredly.

Sloan's head frantically moved from side to side.

"Relax. They're both inside waiting for you. We're an hour late. Let's have a proper goodbye. We didn't get to have one at the center."

Sloan's body, releasing its tension, seemed to melt into Trent's. They leaned toward each other, lips finally meeting, for a long, lingering, passionate kiss. Then, perhaps realizing that he had forgotten himself, let his guard down, and that he was indeed outside in full public view, abruptly broke away from Trent's grasp.

"I'm late. I'll call you," said Sloan, as he turned away and ran for the entrance.

"Damn it. I knew it, I just knew it," whispered Jack. "Let's give him a few minutes before we go inside."

Sloan half ran, half walked to the government kiosk where he was supposed to meet Jack and Dorrissa. Shit, shit, shit! What can I say, he wondered? I know, he thought, his face brimming with a solution. I will say that the tour ended early and I decided to go for a nearby walk of the city but somehow had become lost. That's a perfect alibi he reasoned.

On reaching the kiosk, Jack and Dorrissa were nowhere to be seen. What now? I'm screwed for sure. I'll just have to wait here until later and then phone them I guess.

While Sloan was pouring over his dilemma, his face took on a deathly pale worried look.

"Are you all right Sir?" sounded a voice that turned out to be one of the night watchmen.

Looking up in startled surprise, not knowing what to say, Sloan saw Jack and Dorrissa approaching from the distance.

"Everything's fine."

Jack raised his hand in salutation.

"Sorry we're late. Dorrissa looked all over for a new dress and we didn't find the right one until after five. The crowds on the street were worse than we anticipated also. Have you been waiting long?"

Knowing a distinct advantage when he saw one, Sloan replied, "Well over an hour. I was beginning to think you had abandoned me and was just about to report this incident to the authorities."

Dorrissa's eyebrows raised in shocked expression as she blurted out, "But..."

"It's okay dear," Jack quickly interjected, taking control of the situation. "Well, there's no harm done then. These things happen. When you find yourself a beautiful woman one day and get partnered, make sure it's one that doesn't have a penchant for shopping."

Jack felt he detected a slight blush to Sloan's cheeks.

"Let's go," Jack continued, "we can still make the six-thirty."

Chapter 2

Jack was awake by six o'clock the next morning. Well before the siren's call. Creeping under the covers to the bottom of the bed, he began kissing Dorrissa's ankle. Slowly moving up the inside of her leg until he neared the top of her thigh, he could feel her stirring. Dorrissa was feeling an overpowering tingling sensation rising up through her body. The government should rid themselves of their crass siren and get a Jack for every household, she thought. What a nice way to wake up.

"Good morning," said Dorrissa, cheerfully to Sloan as he entered the kitchen. "Did you sleep well?"

"Fine," Sloan said.

"I purchased some canned milk in the city yesterday if you would like cereal this morning. It's in the chilling compartment overtop of the freezer."

Jack was sitting at the table in the process of devouring a bowl of Grape Nuts Flakes, his favorite breakfast cereal. He was now an addict after having discovered them on a vacation with Dorrissa to the United States a few years earlier. For some asinine reason they were not available in Canada. Fortunately with Jack's rank and connections, he was able to have it imported by the case. After breakfast, Jack and Sloan left for the Rank Institute which was approximately a thirty minute drive. Dorrissa hopped into the other vehicle and headed out to the Wycliffe Birthing Lab which was about twenty minutes away. The Rank Institute-Hillcrest Division was located in a large building that at one time had been used for the regional municipal government. Jack arrived and backed into his own personal space close to the building.

"Any particular reason you always back into a spot?" asked Sloan.

Jack turned and flashed a cunning smirk, "Fast getaways."

After a front entrance security check, Jack dropped Sloan off at the training department.

"Here's your new recruit, bright eyed and raring to go. His name is Sloan 2168T36. Put him to work, he's itching to get started."

"Hey Jack," said a rather shapely girl, "seen you on the screen Saturday night. You're the man!"

With a confident nod, Jack turned to Sloan and said, "Pick you up at five."

Continuing on to his office, he received similar salutations from everyone he encountered. No sooner had he sat down at his desk and opened his day planner, Becka 2114T33 walked in.

"Here's your coffee Jack. The Chairman wants to see you in his office right away."

Becka was Jack's private secretary. She was in her twenty-fourth year, a buxom redhead with an otherwise svelte figure. Very cute and very organized. She had been with Jack going on two years now. Both conversational flirts, they enjoyed each others company immensely.

"I recorded you on the screen Saturday night. Two of my girlfriends were over and they both think you are dreamy."

"What about you? What do you think?" Jack asked, half jokingly.

"That goes without saying," Becka smiled a foxy smile.

"Thanks for the coffee. By the way, I like that dress. It certainly does you justice," said Jack, as he got up and brushed by Becka.

I got it just for you she thought.

"I'd better make tracks," he said on his way out, not waiting for a reply.

Oh if only he was single, imagined Becka. Or not, she giggled.

Jack knocked on the door.

"Come in," a somewhat raspy voice bellowed.

"You wanted to see me Mr. Smithington."

"Yes Jack. Have a seat."

Jack sat down in a fine leather chair on the other side of an ornately carved mahogany desk. Mr. S. Herbert Smithington, (S for Samuel) Chairman of the Board of the Rank Institute-Hillcrest Division, sat opposite him.

"Jack, I saw you Saturday night. That was a fine performance. The Internal Prime Minister saw it too. He was impressed, mighty impressed. I got a call last evening at home from Garry Taftling, National Security Advisor. Now that a decision has been made to prosecute Family Survival Groups by airing national broadcasts, the Prime Minister wants you to handle all media coverage for the entire country. He believes you to be both highly photogenic and superbly articulate. What do you say?"

"Well...I..."

"Don't beat around the bush man. This is an opportunity of a lifetime. It comes with an A+ rating. I'm sure you are aware of what will happen if you turn it down. The Prime Minister has been known to become quite cantankerous when he doesn't get his way."

"Would that involve nation wide travel Sir?" Jack hesitantly asked.

"It will involve what it involves," said Mr. Smithington, in a loud agitated voice.

"I want an answer by three o'clock sharp. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some other matters that I must attend to."

Noticing the bitter tone in the old man's voice, not only worrying about being out of his favor but also the implied insult, the slap in the face to the Prime Minister because of his wavering in acceptance, Jack replied, "No need to wait that long Sir. I accept. I'm honored to be given such a valuable opportunity and will strive to do my best and make the Prime Minister proud in his wisdom of choice."

"Excellent man," said Mr. Smithington. "That's what I wanted to hear. I'll forward your acceptance and get back to you in due course."

"Thank you Sir," Jack said as he got up to leave.

"Oh Jack?"

"Yes Sir."

"Give my regards to Dorrissa."

"Yes Sir I will."

Oh no, Dorrissa. How will I break the news to her, he wondered?

Dorrissa came to a stop just outside the large metal gates. An overhead sign in large capital block letters read, WYCLIFFE - ADMITTANCE STRICTLY PROHIBITED. Two armed guards approached the vehicle.

"Could you show me your pass please?"

It was always the same, day in day out, no matter how many times they had seen your face over the years. Then they will close the trunk which they make you pop open for inspection, say thanks Dorrissa, you can never be too careful, and have a nice day, her mind contemplated.

"Thanks Dorrissa. You never can be too careful. Have a nice day."

Dorrissa drove through the gate, parked her car and walked to the main entrance. She placed her right hand on a vertical pad that scanned for prints. When her identity had been confirmed, a buzzer sounded unlocking the door allowing her admission. Once inside the birthing lab she proceeded to take the elevator to the fourth floor. Her office was to the left of the elevator and was the largest office on the floor. This was her floor and she was in charge.

"Gail," Dorrissa buzzed. "Could you bring me the reports on last Friday's creations please?"

"Yes, right away, Superintendent!"

Dorrissa enjoyed her title. She was the superintendent of all created human beings at Wycliffe. All of her staff was required to address her as such. She had spent many long hard years to reach that point and was now savoring the fruit of her harvest. Gail was fourteen years her junior, but more than just a secretary, she was her senior assistant and understudy.

"Here you are Superintendent," said Gail 127B26.

"Just put them in the incoming tray on my desk if you please."

"We all saw Jack on the media screen Saturday night. My, those people. Can you imagine? I recognized one lady who is a cashier at the North Point Allocation area."

Dorrissa looked up expressionless, faking indifference.

Gail continued, "You shop there too don't you? I've seen you talk to her on occasion."

"Just what are you trying to imply Gail?"

"Ah...ah...Nothing really, I was just wondering...er...What's she like?"

"You're asking the wrong person. I only knew her to say hello or goodbye to. She would let me know the specials. That's all. I really don't feel any need to explain myself to you further."

"Oh! I didn't mean anything by it. Honest. I know for certain that you, of all people, are beyond reproach."

"Thank you Gail for your vote of confidence and show of support. By the way, have you mentioned to anyone that you recognized the woman?"

"Not to anyone, other than you."

"You had better keep it that way. You know what happens to office gossip. You could find yourself on the hot seat."

Turning the conversation completely around in her favor, Dorrissa added, "You can count on me Gail to keep your secret. I won't tell anyone you knew that lady."

"Oh thank you," Gail said upon leaving, without a clue that the wool had been thoroughly pulled over her eyes. Or so Dorrissa hoped.

While reading over Friday's reports, Dorrissa noticed discrepancies to government guidelines on a group of cell samples that were produced on the morning shift, which ran from 3:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m. Cell samples from Crehus destined for low level jobs in the workforce had been matched with ones of a professional level. Who was in charge of quality control that morning? Checking further, it seemed the supervisor had phoned in sick and presumed a replacement would be called in.

Thinking that he could control production, an inexperienced line captain took charge. Improper monitoring had allowed, new to the workforce, second generation Crehus to make wrong matches. Cell sample statistic sheets were not being fully read. More than one hundred samples had been contaminated and had to be destroyed. Heads were going to roll.

Dorrissa told Gail to contact the morning crew and tell them to come to the lunchroom for an eleven a.m. meeting. That was the time their shift ended and the afternoon group got started. The most experienced workers, because of their seniority, preferred working on the afternoon shift. There were only the two shifts required. That was all that was needed in order to maintain full child capacity in their rearing center. The afternoon shift ran from 11:00 a.m. until 7:00 p.m. On occasion, extra hours were scheduled. Depending upon the workload, the morning shift would start earlier or the afternoon shift would finish later. Everyone from the morning crew was in attendance by eleven fifteen a.m.

"Does anyone know why they're here?" Dorrissa asked.

No one answered.

"I've had to order the destruction of fifty-nine cell matches that were conceived on your Friday morning shift."

Almost everyone in the room now was looking at each other. They were very nervous, shuffling their feet, not knowing how to react. Everyone but four that is. The seemingly disinterested four were the only second generation Crehus in the room.

"I wasn't here," said Vinny, the morning shift supervisor.

"It was your responsibility to make sure someone with the proper qualifications was," said Dorrissa.

"I spoke to Tom (the line captain) and I just assumed..."

"Assumed!" said Dorrissa wide-eyed, almost unable to constrain herself.

"When you just ASSUME something, you make an ASS of U and ME."

"And you Ron, Ed, Sally and Melissa," said Dorrissa, raising her voice upon addressing the new Crehus. "None of you have been here more than a few months and you are all still on probation. This was your work. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"The matches seemed fine to me," replied Ed.

"Me too," said Sally.

"What's the difference?" added Ron.

"Everyone makes mistakes," stated Melissa.

"Are you all too thick to follow procedure or just too pigheaded? Did you even bother to read the statistic/picture files that belonged to the cells?" asked Dorrissa, who by now was quite red in the face.

"Some of them got mixed up."

"They dropped on the floor."

"It would take us all night to read those."

"We probably would have created only half the number if we had wasted time sorting them," said Ron. "What's the big deal anyway?" he added.

Dorrissa was exasperated by their indignant responses and callous indifference. Feeling much more contempt for these workers, Dorrissa bellowed, "Sally, Ed, Melissa, and Ron. You are all suspended until further notice. Get out of my face, NOW!" They all disappeared faster than fresh food on a farm center table.

Turning to the night supervisor she said, "Congratulations Vinny. You're now the new line captain. I guess you know what that makes you Tom."

"But Superintendent," Vinny and Tom chimed together.

"I suggest everyone leave and leave now, while my temper is still in low idle."

One by one, they all departed.

"Bitch," whispered Tom, under his breath, once he was out of earshot.

"Bastard," murmured Vinny, as he shot a sideward glance at Tom.

Later that afternoon, back at the Rank Institute, Jack was still pondering his fate when a knock sounded on his office door. Before he could answer the door opened. In poked a shiny bald head.

"Hey, did you hear about George?"

"George?"

"George 178B9...George, from receivables."

"No. What's up?"

"He was arrested at his home on the weekend. He was accused of pilfering government funds."

"You're kidding."

"Do I sound like I'm kidding? Hey, caught you on the screen. You're a star. See you at lunch."

This had taken Jack completely by surprise. George was more than an acquaintance, he was a friend. Why didn't Dolly (George's partner) call him, he wondered?

The light on Becka's desk intercom started flashing.

"Yes?" she answered.

"Becka, could you come into my office for a minute."

"I'm on my way."

Becka opened the door and entered.

"Close the door behind you and grab a seat," said Jack. "Have you heard about George?"

"Yes. I found out about it while you were in Mr. Smithington's office."

"Have the charges been substantiated?"

"I believe they have. Mr. Andrews, a government prosecutor, is handling the case."

"Can you get him on the line for me?"

"I'll see what I can do."

A little while later, Jack was buzzed on his intercom.

"I have Mr. Andrews on the line."

"I'll take it in here. Thanks Becka."

"Mr. Andrews. Hello Sir. My name is Jack 1145A12. I'm calling to enquire on behalf of one of my fellow employees, a Crehu by the name of George 178B9."

"Ah, you're the chap from the Rank Institute, who was on the media screen Saturday night, are you not?"

Does the whole world know, thought Jack?

"Yes I'm that chap," he replied.

"George has been found guilty. He has been downgraded to a W (W for worker) and given the new occupation of street cleaning. He is being transferred out west as we speak and no one shall receive any further contact from him."

"He has a partner named Dolly 151B14. Does she know?"

"She's been informed."

"Thanks for taking the time to talk to me."

"It's my pleasure Sir. It's always a pleasure to enforce the law. Good day to you."

Jack hung up the phone. I could tell it was a pleasure for you just by looking at your face on the phone display he thought. Damn that George, what was he thinking? Jack worked through his lunch hour. He had no appetite. He passed the rest of the day doing routine paperwork and picked up Sloan a little after five.

"Sorry I'm late. How was your day?" he asked.

"Uneventful," replied Sloan.

Wish I could say the same, thought Jack.

The conversation on the drive home had been willingly sporadic. Both men clearly had much on their minds. Sloan hated the subservient nature of his duties. Only one day on the job yet he found it quite hard to suppress the burning impatience of ambition. Forget about climbing the ladder of success. Not for him. It was much too slow. He would take the elevator to the top. He just needed to devise the proper platform.

Jack pulled into the driveway. Dorrissa was already home. Barging in the side door, which was off from the kitchen, Jack pleaded, "Some food, some food, my kingdom for some food. Fair maiden, your wayfaring partner has returned."

"What happened? Did the car break down?" joked Dorrissa.

"Hmm, I'm so hungry I could eat a..."

"Media screen dinner?" she interrupted.

Dorrissa laughed when she saw Jack turn up his nose and curl down his lip in abjection.

"You must have worked through lunch again today."

"How'd you guess?"  
"I'll fix you something nice. Are you hungry Sloan?"

"No. I'm actually tired. I think I'd like to lie down in my room for a while."

"I'll call you when dinner's ready," said Dorrissa.

"Do you mind if I eat in my room tonight. I'd just like to be alone for awhile."

"No problem. I'll bring it to you when it's ready."

Sloan continued on his way. Jack and Dorrissa were finally alone. He could now drop all pretense of cheerfulness.

"I need to talk to you Dorry," said Jack, ashen-faced. He reflected a pain in his eyes that she had never seen before. His expression had a certain tautness about it that accentuated a macabre hollowness to his cheeks. She was clearly worried.

"Let's sit down in the living room, we can talk there," said Dorrissa.

"First read this," said Jack, handing her a folded piece of paper as they sat down.

Dorrissa unfolded the paper and slowly read it with a look of great consternation.

My Dearest, Dearest Dorry, Dorry I must say

I'm feeling oh so sorry, sorry this very day

The government liked my appearance, my style and the way

I related to the public with my bark, and with my bray

They asked, no rather told me, it's my new full time job, hurray

The Prime Minister's confidence, you best not betray

It will involve a lot of traveling, definitely a lot more pay

We can hear your partner's congratulatory cries at home, Yea, Yea, Yea.

With tears welling in her eyes, in a shaky voice, Dorrissa finally spoke.

"Jack, what are you saying? What are you trying to tell me?"

"Old man Smithington called me into his office this morning. Seems the Prime Minister liked my rapport with the media over this Family Survival ruckus. He wants me to be the intermediary representing the government. Whenever and wherever these subversives are ferreted out, I must go. What could I say? I didn't want the job. Believe me Dorry the last thing I ever want is to be separated from you. You know how much I love you."

Heartbreaking tears flowed, streaming down her cheeks, falling onto her lap. The pain, the grief, it was all too much for her. They both knew there was nothing that could be done. Go against the wishes of the Prime Minister? Refuse the appointment? That would be impossible. The ramifications of doing so would be brutal. In high level government jobs, both had heard rumors of these groups' existence. Once sporadic, they were now occurring at an alarming rate. Once unsubstantiated, now a proven fact. Their only consolation was that perhaps the public prosecution of these groups, live in front of the nation, would put the fear of government in them. Thus causing their demise. That is the government's hope and intention.

"Dorry," said Jack, "maybe when these people see the futility of their cause and the fate that awaits them they will disband and become responsible citizens once again."

"Not likely. They're radicals, newfangled heretics. Not even the threat of Artic imprisonment will sway their agenda."

Now, beginning to regain her composure, Dorrissa added.

"Don't you see Jack? The people involved in these groups are all older. They are people who have been taught by natural-born human beings, learning their morals, hearing their stories, of how life used to be with parents and siblings. Not so much by Teachmasters, as that is against the law. But more so by talking to natural born humans in the general population after their graduation since the government has less control on a person's individual conversations. They were told of the good things, not the bad, and are first generation Crehus like you and me. These are people with feelings, with heart and with soul. Before there was government, there was God and religion."

"Dorrissa...WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?"

"Jack is it just me? Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Second generation Crehus are different than us. They have been raised by first generation Crehus. The old stories, the memories, they are all being lost and forgotten." Talking with much more passion now, "Government rules and regulations pertaining to the raising of children have increased and are much more strictly enforced. You don't see it but I do. Whenever I visit our child rearing center for inspection I see first hand the changes that have taken place since we were young. The kids are being raised like little government robots.

"Just today I gave four people, all second generation Crehus, immediate suspension without pay from their jobs. Their indifference to government regulations was surprising to say the least, considering they were raised by strict government guidelines. I can only surmise that a lack of morals and personal purpose is to blame.

"That woman Jack, the one who worked at the food allocation area, was a good person. Kind and considerate, she was our age, Jack. She could have been me. You could have been her."

"Stop it. I won't listen. I don't want to hear anymore," he said.

"Even Sloan, Jack, you said yourself he doesn't seem quite right. You couldn't put your finger on it, but I'm telling you right now. I know it is because of the way in which he was brought up. I'm not saying these Family Survival Groups, as the government refers to them, are right. Only that they believe they're right. Although I believe their ideas hold some merit, in view of the way I see things emerging today, I also believe they are wrong to jeopardize people's lives by spreading and indoctrinating these ideas.

"No Jack. Government repression will not put a stop to these groups. At best, it might drive them further underground. The less likely they are to be caught, the less likely you will have a need to travel. That can be our only hope."

Jack sat there in stunned silence not knowing what to say. He was still taking it all in.

"I'd better go fix us some dinner. I'm glad we had this talk Jack. I feel a weight has been lifted from my shoulders."

And put on mine, thought Jack.

Dorrissa finished preparing dinner and took Sloan's to his room. She was just about to knock when she heard his voice.

"I really want to, more than anything.

"Of course I do.

"No, don't be silly. I'll figure out something.

"Okay, leave it with me. I'll get back to you."

Backing up down the hall, Dorrissa spoke in a loud voice. "Just a minute, I'm just bringing Sloan his dinner."

Knocking on his door, Dorrissa said, "Sloan, I have your dinner here. Are you awake?"

Sloan opened the door.

"Uh... I was sleeping. Have you been knocking long?"

"No. I just got here. There you go. Don't worry about the dishes. I can do them in the morning."

"Okay," said Sloan, closing the door.

After dinner, Jack asked Dorrissa if she wanted to go for a walk. They put on their coats and went out to the back yard. It was a gradual sloping yard that ended at a ravine. A winding path took them down a hill to a small river. The ravine, once part of a large conservation area and used by many, was now traversed only by a few locals. The moonlight reflected from the water gave them ample light to see. No one would be down here this time of night or this time of year. They walked along a path by the river.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Jack pulled out a joint.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Sure," Dorrissa said, with a smile. She knew Jack didn't like to smoke alone. Besides, she sometimes enjoyed the high that it offered. It was a break from life's pressures, even if just momentarily.

Jack lit the joint and they smoked it as they talked and walked alongside the river.

"What's going to happen to those new Crehus you suspended?" asked Jack.

"I filed a detailed report stating their direct involvement. They will most likely receive an extension of their probation, but the repercussions could warrant a downgrading of their statuses. They might even have come before you for a rank review if it weren't for your new job."

"That hasn't taken effect yet. Still waiting to hear back and certainly in no hurry, I'm definitely not holding my breath."

"Speaking of new Crehus, when I went to Sloan's room to drop off his dinner, I overheard him talking to someone on his phone. About something he wants to do but he has to figure it out and get back to the person."

"Probably that guy we saw him with," said Jack.

"That's what I was thinking," replied Dorrissa.

Jack and Dorrissa returned from their walk. They saw that the light was out in Sloan's room. It was ten o'clock.

"I don't know about you, but I'm thinking of hitting the sack and calling it a night," said Dorrissa.

"That sounds good to me. Last one under the covers is a factory worker."

Then, not quite knowing why, Jack remembered about George. He proceeded to tell Dorrissa what had happened at work that day concerning George. George and Dolly were personal friends. They lived in the same neighborhood only a short distance away by car. George worked in the statistics department at the Rank Institute and Dolly was a stay at home partner as a result of a back injury suffered many years earlier. They had known each other socially going on five years.

"I don't know why Dolly hasn't called. I must call her," he said.

No sooner had he said that, the phone rang.

"Hello," Jack answered.

"Jack...Jack...George is dead!" he heard Dolly's voice sobbing uncontrollably.

"What?" he exclaimed. "It can't be. How is it possible?"

"It's true, oh Jack, it's true," said Dolly, now wailing incessantly.

"Dolly, please calm down and tell me what happened."

Dorrissa, now standing beside Jack, could see Dolly on the phone display looking to be in near hysterics.

"Shelly e-mailed me. She's a friend," said Dolly, regaining some composure. "I've known her since her graduation. We've kept in touch. She knows us. She knows George."

"How does she know George is dead Dolly?" asked Jack.

"She works at the city morgue. She was on shift when he came in. She recognized him."

"When was this?"

"Saturday night."

That can't be right thought Jack. "How did he die?"

"It's officially listed as a heart attack. He was scheduled for immediate cremation."

"This Shelly, what is her rank number?"

"1346M20." (M for mortuary worker)

"Are you sure she said Saturday? That, in fact, it couldn't have been today?"

"No. The e-mail was sent on Saturday and I never had a chance to check my messages until I arrived back this evening, only moments ago."

"Back this evening? Where were you?"

"Jack. George was arrested at home Saturday morning and charged with government embezzlement."

"I just heard about it today," said Jack.

"Ever since the government rent increase at the beginning of the year we have been having a hard time managing. With me not being able to work at all because of my back injury, and our savings depleted due to previous rental increases, George had devised a scheme where instead of reporting downgraded rank changes to the treasury department, he would keep the money for himself.

"Every month, when wages were electronically deposited in certain Crehu accounts that George had selected, he would withdraw the excess amount. The difference between the higher former rank and the lower revised rank was the money, considerable amounts in some cases, which he deposited in a separate account in his name.

"He got caught because the treasury department decided to close their system down for debugging, and deposited salaries four days early. One of the Crehus, realizing too much money had been deposited into his account, and fearing government prosecution if not reported, contacted the treasury department.

"The government figures showed he had always made that much money and no downgrading in rank and salary had ever been received. An investigation was launched. One thing led to another, and George was arrested. He loved this house Jack. He loved living here. I guess he could not bear the thought of losing it, losing his garden and having to move."

"You knew none of this? Of what was happening?"

"No. Of course I didn't know. I was taken into custody along with George, held in detention and questioned. They determined my innocence and I was released. They brought me back just now."

"You were detained? That's why you didn't call me earlier."

"They told me that although this is a first offense, it was quite serious. George would be downgraded, put on probation, monitored, and sent out west. I was not to expect ever hearing from him again."

"Exactly what I heard today," said Jack. "That he was sent out west this afternoon to be a street cleaner."

"Oh Jack, he's dead," said Dolly bitterly, beginning to cry all over again.

"Dolly, it just occurred to me, you being detained and all, that the government might in fact be monitoring you this very instant."

"No they're not. Before I was released they said that monitoring me would not be necessary since I have proven my innocence."

Jack, quite worried now at the position into which Dolly had placed not only himself but also Dorrissa, decided it best to bring this conversation to a close.

"Dolly, try to get some rest now. Dorrissa and I will talk to you more tomorrow."

"But Jack, can you help me? Help me find out about what happened to George?"

"I'll see what I can do. Get some rest now, it's late. We'll be in touch. Goodnight Dolly."

"Goodnight Jack and thank you."

Jack hung up the phone.

"What's happening Jack?" asked Dorrissa, clearly concerned.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"How could George be dead on Saturday and alive on Monday? What are you going to do?"

"Nothing if I was smart."

"We both know you better than that Jack."

"We'll see. Promise me you won't speak of this conversation to anyone."

"That goes without saying."

"We had better get some sleep."

Jack and Dorrissa had heard of people's disappearances before. It was almost as if they vanished from the face of the earth. They knew about the Dad Chip implanted in all Crehus for monitoring purposes. It was common knowledge that all citizens on probation for criminal offenses had their chip activated and were monitored. The running joke was that the government called it the Dad Chip because they were, in fact, the Crehus' Dad and misbehaved children needed to be monitored.

Repeat petty criminals, or serious first time offenders, were put on probation and transferred to other parts of the country never to be seen or heard from again. Hardened and dangerous criminals were sent to Artic imprisonment camps for life. Even exemplary people were not free from worry anymore. Government laws and policies had seen to that. Society on the whole, encountered some form of restriction. Some form of imprisonment. Jack and Dorrissa were just luckier than most. But knowing this did not let them sleep any easier that night.

They awoke the next morning to a dusting of snow swirling in the breeze outside. This was uncommon for the fifteenth of November.

"I've decided to leave work early today and pay a visit to the city morgue," Jack said to Dorrissa.

"Do you think that's wise?" she replied.

"No. But if I ever want to get a good night's sleep again I have to find out what happened."

"Jack, I'm scared. Please don't."

"I'll be quite circumspect about it. Trust me. I will arrange with one of the staff to drop Sloan off after work."

"What if they monitored Dolly's call last night?"

"If they did I would imagine I'll hear about it before the morning is over. If the morning runs smoothly, that's my plan. Hopefully I won't be home too late."

"What if Dolly calls?"

"Tell her you are in the middle of fixing dinner. You can't talk right now because your boarder is in the room and that we will be coming over shortly for a visit."

"Good luck Jack. See you later this evening," said Dorrissa, before she got in her car and drove away.

Upon overhearing, Sloan spoke up. "I guess she's talking about your new appointment, eh Jack?"

"How do you know about that?"

"It's big news in a small place. Word travels. I thought you would have been excited and mentioned it to me yesterday."

"It's not official yet."

"Don't kid yourself. From what I hear you're a shoe in. Congratulations."

Jack, refraining from answering, put the car in drive and stared straight ahead.

"Oh, by the way Jack, that shortened tour of Parliament last week was a real let down. There is so much I missed seeing. I was wondering if it would be okay to go to the city on Saturday and perhaps stay over-night in a hotel and sight-see the next day. You don't get to see very much in twenty one years of seclusion at a child rearing center."

So that is the reason for Sloan's new found praise, he determined. Jack snapped his head sideways to feast his eyes upon the pathetic liar. Sloan's ever-increasing, notorious lies rolled from his tongue so smoothly, he didn't even show the slightest sign of embarrassment. Trying hard to keep a straight face Jack offered up a vapid smile and said, "I suppose that would be alright. Just call and let us know where you're staying. As long as you reside at our home you are our responsibility."

"Sure thing," said Sloan.

Upon arriving at the institute, Sloan managed to find his own way to the training department while Jack stopped off to see a co-worker.

"Harry, do you have a minute?"

Looking at his watch, Harry replied, "Ya, about sixty of 'em."

"That's more than I need for the time being. I'll take a rain check on the other fifty-nine," he laughed. "I might have to leave early today for an appointment. Would you be able to drop off a new boarder working here at my house?"

"Will he be ready by five?"

"I'll be sure he is."

"Because if he's not I'll be pissed off."

"He will be."

"I don't foresee a problem then."

"Thanks. It's not definite yet. I'll let you both know for sure if it's certain."

"Talk ta ya," said Harry.

"Right," said Jack, pointing his index finger at him with a wink of his eye and a thankful smile.

Becka was waiting in his office with a lukewarm coffee when he arrived.

"Now that we're a celebrity we keep celebrity hours I see."

"Ouch, that hurt," said Jack, smiling.

"You have a ten o'clock hearing to attend in room 408 with the rest of the Rank Committee."

"Okay that works out fine. Is there anything else on the slate today that I should be aware of?"

"Not to my knowledge," said Becka.

"Good, let's keep it that way. I want to try to leave early today. I've got a few things that need attending to."

"Your wish is my command," said Becka, closing his office door.

Jack sat down in front of his computer and proceeded to access the centralized database containing individual statistics on all Crehus. He entered a search for Shelly 1346M20. Within seconds, the information he requested came on screen.

SHELLY 1346M20

BIRTH YEAR: 2112

PRESENT STATUS: UNPARTNERED

PREVIOUS STATUS: 2140 – 2143 PARTNERED TO BURT 153F16

2144 – 2147 PARTNERED TO JOHN 126L19

EMPLOYMENT HISTORY: 2133 – PRESENT CITY MORGUE # 8

CURRENT ADDRESS: 17 DULAINE STREET UNIT # 3228

TORONTO CANADA

CURRENT PHONE: 1200-535-5014

FOR ADDITIONAL INFORMATION PLEASE CLICK HERE

Jack wrote down the address and phone number on a piece of paper and stuffed it into his pocket. Just then, there was a knock on his door.

"Just a minute," said Jack, as he exited the program and switched to screensaver.

"Come in, I'm decent," he joked.

It was David, one of the nine people that comprised the rank committee.

"Hey Jack, what's happening?" Without waiting for an answer he added, "We'd better make haste. Don't want to keep 'em waiting. It's almost ten."

There were two other Crehus besides David and himself who sat on the committee, Jack being the most junior. The five remaining members were natural born humans all in their mid to late sixties or older.

"Okay Dave, I'm ready. Let's go," replied Jack.

Dorrissa arrived for work shortly before nine and summoned Gail to her office.

"Have you heard anything about replacement workers for the suspended Crehus?"

"Yes Superintendent. There are six new Crehus being interviewed by personnel as we speak."

"Great. Send me their files as soon as they become available. What about the morning shift for tomorrow?"

"Yesterday afternoon," said Gail, "I arranged for extra help from the floating pool to handle tomorrow's morning shift until further notice."

"Good work. It's unfortunate that production will be temporarily affected but I'm hoping the new workers we're given are of a more responsible caliber," said Dorrissa.

"There's one more thing you need to know," said Gail.

"What would that be?"

"A new batch of cells arrived late yesterday afternoon and by a review of their accompanying stats, it is obvious that the ratios are completely mismatched. Almost all are low level classifications and we have a desperate shortage of superior samples needed for high level Crehu matches, as per your expectations, especially since yesterday's destruction of ill matched samples."

"I see," said Dorrissa, pondering the situation with the utmost concentration. "I'm thinking I need to make a visit to the Eastern Cell Repository to find out what's going on. Clear my schedule for Thursday and Friday of this week. I'll need overnight accommodation for Thursday and possibly Friday in case I'm at the repository all day and there are no evening flights available. Please make the arrangements and get back to me."

"Shall I notify anyone of your coming?" asked Gail.

"No. I think we'll leave it as a surprise."

"Will you be flying?"

"But of course, silly girl. How else? And I want those files," Dorrissa reminded her, "A.S.A.P."

Jack and David entered room 408 and took their seats at the head table. A guard led the four accused in from a side entrance and seated them in front and directly across from the committee. Mr. Philip Elkvander, a portly, rather elderly gentleman, presided over the committee.

"You are called before us today to answer for serious charges of neglect of duty in the performance of your job. You have been charged with failing to follow government guidelines in the production of new Crehus. Because of your willful neglect fifty-nine completed cell matches, which in effect are one hundred and eighteen cell samples, had to be destroyed. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty!" said Ron, the first to answer.

"Not guilty!" were the three remaining replies.

The hearing progressed for almost a full two hours. Ron, the obvious instigator of the group, was hostile in his testimony and had to be restrained. The four Crehus were removed from the room while the committee conferred amongst themselves. Finally, the four charged were brought back into the room.

Mr. Elkvander, looking very stern and solemn, spoke in a deliberate, powerful tone.

"Melissa, Sally and Ed, you have been found guilty on all counts but it is the opinion of this committee that youth and inexperience combined with bad judgment impacted your thought process in the performance of your duties. It is the committee's recommendation that you be transferred to other duties in the city and that your ranks remain the same but red circled to show you are on added probation.

"One year from today, provided you have all kept your noses clean, the red circles shall be removed, your probationary periods ended. Your comings and goings may be monitored in the future but it is not this committee's intent to instigate that at this time. Do you have anything to say?"

"Oh thank you Sir, thank you so much," they all responded appreciatively.

"I promise to always do what is right," added Sally.

"Bailiff, remove Sally, Ed and Melissa from this room. You three are free to go. You shall be contacted within the week regarding your new positions," said Mr. Elkvander.

After the others left the room, Mr. Elkvander turned to Ron and said, "Ron 2316T34, you have been found by this committee to be guilty as charged. Your outbursts of hostility have been duly noted and it is our position that any reformation on your part is least probable and highly unlikely. You are sentenced to Artic imprisonment for the remainder of your life."

Before he could ask Ron if he had anything to say, Ron stood up and shouted belligerently. "Bullshit. It's all bullshit. Fuck you all. It's the line captain and the night supervisor. They were in charge not me. I'll get every fuckin' one of you. You wait. You'll see."

"Bailiff, remove this man right away," ordered Mr. Elkvander.

Still in shackles and violently spewing forth profanity, three armed guards removed Ron from the room.

"I'm sorry gentlemen," said Mr. Elkvander. "This job can sometimes be quite unpleasant. I thank you all for your attendance but I must leave now as I have a pressing engagement to attend to."

After the departure of Mr. Elkvander, the remaining members filed out to resume the rest of their day's duties.

"Say Jack, it's past one. How about some lunch?" asked David.

"I'm sorry I can't," replied Jack. "I've got some work to catch up on. I'll go another day for sure."

Jack returned to his office passing Becka on the way.

"How did the meeting go?" she asked.

"Routine. Anything happen while I was gone?"

"No Jack," Becka smiled, "not really."

"Good. I've got a couple of calls to make and then I'll be gone for the day."

Jack phoned Sloan and told him that he had arranged a ride home for him with Harry. He told Sloan to be waiting by the front door at five p.m. sharp, no delay. He then phoned Harry and thanked him for putting up with the inconvenience. With a sigh of relief, Jack left the building and climbed into his car. It was 2:00 p.m. when he arrived at the train station.

Dorrissa received the new applicant files and perused their content. One of the Crehus was coming from a furniture factory, two from government offices and another from a farm center. The remaining two were new graduates from the child rearing center in the Wycliffe compound. Dorrissa rang up the personnel department.

"Yes, I'd like to speak to Sara 145A15 please," said Dorrissa, with just a hint of agitation.

"Oh hi Dorrissa," the voice chimed. "I'll transfer your call."

Sara picked up the phone on the other end. A gorgeous brunette of impeccable taste and refined distinction, Sara was the personnel superintendent of the Wycliffe compound.

"Yes Dorrissa. How are you?" said Sara.

"Tell me Sara. What bright star down there decided in their vast wisdom to send me such a ramshackle collection of life creating wannabe's?"

"What?"

"Did you not see the new applicant files your department sent down to me?"

"Of course I did. What is your problem? And if you don't mind me saying, you're being quite rude."

"My morning shift screwed up royally last week. I can't allow it to happen again. I need replacement workers who are trustworthy and reliable. Workers I can count on, not only in terms of dedication and knowledge but also in maturity."

"What's the problem?" repeated Sara.

"Four of the new workers you want to send me are second generation Crehus and two of those are recent graduates of this same complex. Regardless of my personal experiences in finding second generation Crehus inferior in relation to ourselves, how can you justify new graduates having existed here at Wycliffe their entire lives remaining perhaps in perpetuity?"

"Dorrissa," said Sara, "may I remind you that you are treading on dangerous ground when you compare second generation Crehus to first generation. We are older and have more experience in the way of the world."

"The way of the world?" interjected Dorrissa. "You're telling me the way of the world? How many of us have ever been allowed to travel outside this country, never mind see the world?"

"Okay, bad choice of words," admitted Sara. "But you do know what I'm saying. You start second guessing government programs and you can be sure where you will be headed."

Dorrissa, quickly realizing she had no compatriot here blurted out angrily, "Look, don't bend my words. I'm saying I agree with you about experience. For this reason exactly, the two new graduates must be sent to live and work in the city and when they're older, reapply to work here, if they choose."

"Does this mean you will accept the remaining four?" asked Sara.

"Yes," answered Dorrissa.

"Fine, I will fill out a report mentioning your misgivings and your suggestions. The government, I'm sure, will take it under its own advisement but remember that these two Crehus were raised by the government for a specific purpose."

"Thank you. That's all I ask," said Dorrissa, hanging up the phone. "Bitch," she murmured. How long have I known Sara, she thought? Imagine her trying to imply that I have a seditious nature. Must I be on my guard against everyone? Is this what it has come to? Yes, I'm afraid so, she answered herself.

"Gail. May I see you for a minute?" said Dorrissa, buzzing her on the intercom.

"Be right there," Gail answered. Upon knocking and entering, she asked, "What can I do you for?"

"You can take these two files and return them to Personnel. Also, have you confirmed my flight?"

"Yes. You have a ten a.m. Thursday departure and a seven p.m. return flight the following day. A room has been booked for you at the Empire Hotel. As you asked, the repository is not aware of your coming."

"Thank you Gail. That's all for now."

For the rest of that afternoon, Dorrissa worked in an inimitable, sedulous manner. Everything must be in perfect order before my departure, she thought. At the end of the day, she dropped into her local food allocation area to pick up a few needed items. Upon entering the building, one of the workers recognized her and rushed over to speak.

"Hi Dorrissa, you haven't been in for awhile. Did you see Marge on the Crime Channel? Wasn't that just mind boggling? Who would have figured?"

"Yes, I did. It's tragic really. She seemed like such a nice lady. It just goes to show that you can never be quite certain of people. You didn't know about her involvement in such a thing and you worked right alongside of her," said Dorrissa, watching the lady for any sign of knowledge.

"Of course not," she replied nervously. "I must get back to work now."

"Are there any specials today?"

"Canned peaches just in this morning."

"Thanks Kathy. Take care now."

Dorrissa watched as the woman hurried away. She finished her shopping and arrived home just as Sloan was being dropped off.

"How is the new job going?" she asked him.

"Fine," he replied.

"I guess it's just us for dinner tonight."

A cold wind was blowing as Jack climbed the steps to the entrance of the building. A sign fastened over the archway proclaimed CITY MORGUE # 8. A feeling of trepidation enveloped him as he crossed the threshold and proceeded to the front desk. An odd looking fellow with unkempt hair peered out at him from behind horn rimmed glasses.

"Can I help you?" he asked, suspiciously.

"A friend of mine passed away on the weekend and was brought here. I would like to view the body."

"Are you this person's partner?"

"Yes," replied Jack, fully knowing that only a partner or human relative has such a right."

"Male or female?"

"Male."

"Name?"

"George 178B9."

The man's head jolted upright and his piercing eyes squinted, nostrils flaring. "There is no one here by that name."

Looking down at Jack's identity card he clenched his jaw and spoke deliberately, slowly and cautiously. "Who informed you that we had such a person?"

Now I'm in for it thought Jack. I must be nuts coming down here. "I found out through an acquaintance. I'm actually not his legal partner. Our relationship with each other was hidden. You know what I mean. I just wanted to pay my last respect's that's all."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," said the man. "Who is this acquaintance that you're talking about and who told them this person had passed away?"

"I'm sorry. Obviously if you have no record of this man, someone is playing a practical joke on me or something. I'm sorry to take up your time."

Jack turned around and concentrated on making a calm and collected exit from the building. Once outside, he could feel the damp beads of sweat on his forehead. He had never been to a morgue before. All the questions had most definitely unnerved him. He wondered if death ever meant anything more to that man other than a body's common disposal at a morgue-crematorium.

He walked over to the street corner and sat on a bench. Pulling up his coat collar to help ward off the wind and the cold night chill, he wondered what he should do now. Should he have told the morgue worker what really happened? Should he have asked to speak to Shelly first off? Maybe it was a case of mistaken identity?

Jack decided that he and Dorrissa would go see Dolly that evening. He would tell her what had happened. That it was all a mistake. George did not die and his body had never been brought there. He rose from his seat and started to make his way to the subway so he could get back to the train station and go home.

He noticed a government hearse pull up to the side entrance of the morgue just ahead of him. As he got closer, two men climbed out to remove a stretcher from the rear. Jack waited as they crossed right in front of him. While one of them clumsily fumbled to open the side door, a strong gust of wind blasted him. Unable to hang onto the stretcher, it tipped and the corpse slid partially to the sidewalk inches from Jack's feet. A look of horror etched upon his face. It was Ron 2316T34. How could that be? He had just sat in judgment on him a few hours earlier and he was in fine health.

"I'm sorry Sir," said the first man who was fumbling with the door. "We didn't mean to startle you," he continued, as he and his partner rearranged the body, covering it with a sheet.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," joked the second man. More seriously now, "You didn't know this person did you?"

Jack looked at him not knowing what to say.

"Of course he didn't," said the first man. "He's just probably never seen a dead body that is all. Isn't that right Sir?"

"Not," Jack paused, "not falling at my feet like that."

"Of course not," the first man replied. "Please accept our apologies. It would do us no good if you reported this incident."

"No, no. I was alarmed at first but I'm fine now. I shouldn't think I would be having nightmares about it."

"Then you won't report us?"

"No, not at all, it never even happened."

"Thank you Sir. You have a good evening," said the men, as they closed the door to the building.

What was going on thought Jack? What had he stumbled upon? His head was racing. Calm down, calm down he thought. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the piece of paper with Shelly's address on it. 17 Dulaine Street. "That's not far from here," he said to himself.

Jack entered the lobby of Shelly's building and proceeded to look for her name on the directory so that he could buzz her on the intercom. Just as he was about to do so, someone opened the door to leave the building. Jack, grabbing it before it closed and locked, entered and made his way to the elevator. Getting off at the thirty second floor, Jack made his way to number twenty eight. The green light is off, she must be home he thought. Taking in a large breath of air, he exhaled, gulped, and knocked on the door. He saw a shadow appear across the peephole.

"Who is it?" enquired a hesitant voice from the other side of the door.

"My name is Jack 1145A12. I'm looking for Shelly 1346M20."

"What do you want with her?"

"I'm a friend of Dolly's."

The door opened a crack and Jack saw that it was still fastened by a security chain.

"Let me see your identity card," demanded the woman.

Having shown her his card, she asked, "Are you alone?"

"Yes," he replied.

The door closed and then reopened.

"Quick, get in," she said, pulling Jack inside by his arm and locking the door behind him.

"I'm Shelly. You're Dorrissa's partner aren't you?"

"Yes I am."

"Dolly's spoken to me about you both. Did she send you?"

"No. She doesn't know I'm here."

"How did you find me?"

"I accessed you on my computer. My position at the Rank Institute allows me complete access to all files of all citizens."

"So no one knows you're here? Not even Dorrissa?"

"No one at all knows I'm here. I told Dorrissa this morning that I was going to check out the morgue where Dolly told me George was taken."

"You didn't go there did you?" asked Shelly, quite shaken by the prospect.

"Yes I did. But I didn't mention your name."

"That doesn't matter," she said.

"We can't talk here. It's not safe. Have you eaten?" Shelly asked.

"No."

"There's a restaurant not far from here. We can go there. We'll talk on the way."

Jack and Shelly left the building. He told her about Dolly's phone call the night before and what had transpired up until then.

"Are you sure it was George," Jack asked.

"Of course I am. His identity card was right there pinned to his chest," she said, as she pointed to her own chest.

Jack went on to tell her about Ron 2316T34. How it all seemed so surrealistic.

"It's real," said Shelly. "Believe me it's real. For the past year or so we've been getting bodies coming into the morgue with no signs of trauma evident...All young, healthy looking bodies. No one comes to claim them or view them. I'm almost sure no one knows they're there other than the government. And it's not just at our morgue. I know people who work at other morgues and it's happening there too."

"But how can that be? People would be missed."

"Jack, a friend of mine has a theory. Artic imprisonment costs the government money. Transportation costs, food deliveries, maintenance and upkeep. Who would know if they terminated a person's existence to save on such costs? When a person commits a crime, depending upon its severity, we are sometimes told that they are transferred to another part of the country and they are never heard from again."

"But the idea of the government killing people is preposterous. The government could never contemplate..."

"Never, Jack? Never?" questioned Shelly. "Don't be too sure."

"You're the first person I know of that has come looking for a supposedly healthy individual. The man you talked to at the morgue sounds like Charlie. If he didn't buy your story and makes out a report, you had better have yourself one very believable excuse for your actions. I wished I had never called Dolly about what happened. My stupidity has put all our lives in danger, including Dorrissa's."

They continued on in silence as passers by were becoming too thick to maintain conversation.

"This is the place," said Shelly.

They entered the restaurant and made their way back to an unoccupied booth in the rear. After placing their order, they resumed their conversation.

"What should I do?" asked Jack.

"I've thought about that, and I want you to listen to me carefully. I don't think they were monitoring Dolly or I would have heard something by now. However it's possible that they are just playing the waiting game. If that's the case, we had better be prepared for some government interrogation. You need to say that you came down to the morgue to investigate a rumor that Dolly told you, about her partner's untimely demise.

"You ascertained it to be false and returned home to tell Dolly. Don't say anything about seeing me and certainly not about the falling body. We can only hope that luck is on our side and that those two men don't report it. It's best if I do nothing. If Dolly contacts me, I shall say I made a mistake and it was just a similar likeness but a completely different person."

"Do you think that will work?" asked Jack.

"It will have to, and one more thing. It's best for both of us if you never see me again. Don't tell Dorrissa anything more than she needs to know, certainly not about Ron. If she is a caring person, and I suspect that she is, she could possibly harbor guilt feelings about his death that might slowly eat away at her."

"You are very wise for your age," observed Jack.

"I had a partner once, a few years back. His name was John and I loved him with all my heart. The government had him transferred for some minor offense and I never heard from him again. From what I know now, I'm sure they had him killed. If John was still alive, I know that he would have somehow contacted me by now."

"You're an exceptional person Shelly. They don't create them like you anymore."

"Oh yea?" Shelly blushed, radiantly. "Thanks Jack. I guess it's all in the genes."

After finishing dinner, they left the restaurant. Jack gave Shelly a short embrace and said, "Thanks for everything. You take care."

"You too, Handsome. Dorrissa is a lucky girl."

Jack made his way back to the subway and caught the train home. It was now quite dark outside. He pulled his sleeve back to check the time. It was 8:05 p.m.

Shelly dropped into a food allocation area store to pick up a few groceries before venturing home. Upon her arrival, she was unceremoniously greeted by two strangers waiting in front of her door.

"Are you Shelly 1346M20?" asked one of the men, as he glanced at her identity card pinned to her chest.

"That's what it says, unless you were looking at something else."

"Don't be a smart ass. We've been waiting here for you a while. Where were you?"

"Well I guess I was shopping, wasn't I," she said, holding the bags of groceries. Thank goodness I needed to pick up a few things she thought. "Who are you and what do you want?" she asked.

"Do you know a woman named Dolly 1251B14?"

"Yes I do."

"Did you send her an e-mail a few days back concerning the death of her partner George 178B9?"

"Yes I did. But it was a mistake. It was just someone who looked like him. I meant to send her another e-mail to tell her just that but it slipped my mind."

"You will have to come along with us," said the man.

"May I put my groceries away first?" Shelly asked.

"You've got five minutes."

It was almost nine-thirty when Jack pulled into the driveway. Dorrissa ran out to meet him half frantic with worry.

"Jack. Where were you? You've been gone so long."

"It's okay Dorry," he said, trying to make her feel at ease. "I went to the morgue to see if it was really George but it was all a case of mistaken identity. Then I was hungry so I stopped for something to eat before coming home." He hated lying. But he had to protect her from the truth. Shelly had made him see that.

"I was so worried," said Dorrissa. "You could have called."

"I didn't want anyone to know I was in the city. Just in case. I felt it was better not to. I'm sorry I worried you."

"Never mind Darling, I'm just glad you're home safe," she said, as she hugged him.

"How's everything been here?" he asked.

"It's been fine. Sloan and I had dinner and now he's in his room."

"Harry got him home okay then?"

"We both got here at the same time. I stopped at the allocation area to pick up a few things. I got some canned peaches that are out of this world. They were on sale."

"You and your specials," smiled Jack, glad to be home.

"The workers are all still talking about Marge down there and her involvement with the Family Survival Group."

"You'd better not tell me you were talking about that," said Jack.

"No I wasn't. I know how you feel about that. That it's dangerous to discuss. The girl that was talking about it didn't even say she recognized you on the media screen."

"That's because I very seldom go there. Smart me. Did Dolly call you tonight?"

"No," said Dorrissa. "I guess it's too late to go over now."

"It's only ten minutes away. We'd better. I told her we would," said Jack.

Jack and Dorrissa got in their car and drove over to Dolly's house. All the lights were out but her car was in the driveway. They got out, went to the front door and rang the doorbell. No answer. They tried again and still no answer.

"Where could she be?" asked Dorrissa.

"I have no idea," answered Jack.

Noticing a car running in the driveway next door with the lights on, a neighbor came out onto their front porch and saw Jack and Dorrissa.

"Are you looking for Dolly?" she asked.

"Yes," Jack replied.

"I saw her leave this afternoon with two men. I don't know where she went."

"Thank you," said Jack.

Climbing back into their car for the short journey home, Dorrissa asked, "What's going on Jack?"

"I have no idea. I'll make some enquiries in the morning."

On the way home Dorrissa told Jack about her planned trip to the Eastern Cell Repository on Thursday morning and that she would be staying overnight and returning late Friday evening.

"Do you have to stay overnight?" he asked.

"I'd better, just in case it takes longer than anticipated."

"I'll miss you," he said.

"I'll call you Thursday night."

Chapter 3

The next day there was a message for Jack on his desk when he got to his office. Becka was not around which was unusual. The message said that Mr. Smithington wanted to see him in his office, first thing. Jack cringed at the thought. Only one of two things, it was either an announcement regarding his appointment as government media spokesperson or his involvement with George and Dolly. Please let if be the former he thought, as he made his way to the old man's office.

"Go right in," said his secretary, "he's expecting you."

Jack knocked on the door.

"Come in," thundered a disgruntled voice.

"Mr. Smithington, you wanted to see me Sir?"

"Jack, my boy, have a seat. There's a little matter I'd like to discuss with you."

Jack sat down in a confident manner trying his best to muster an air of tranquility.

"Let me get right to the point. You left early yesterday afternoon."

"Yes I did."

"Do you mind telling me where you went?"

"I had a personal errand to attend to."

"Jack, we've know each other for a long time now. You're one of the most promising people I have in my department. I certainly wouldn't want to see you throw it all away. Such a waste it would be."

The color seemed to drain from Jack's face. He felt some queasiness in the pit of his stomach, and took a deep breath to help counteract the sensation.

Mr. Smithington continued, "I know you are a friend of George and Dolly. I also know that Dolly phoned you Monday evening about George. I want you to tell me everything you know starting with her phone conversation. I do not need to remind you further of the importance of this matter or the consequences it could bring about."

"I don't really understand what's going on. Dolly phoned to tell me that she had received a message on Saturday saying George was dead. I told her that was impossible. I never even knew that he had been arrested until Monday morning at work. I didn't exactly know why George had been arrested, but Dolly told me Monday night. She was quite distressed and asked for my help. I told her I would check into it and get back to her. In the back of my mind, I just knew it had to be some mistake. That was substantiated by me last night. Of course I was right and it had been a case of mistaken identity all along. I went to her house to inform her of that last evening but she wasn't there. That's all there is to tell. What did I do wrong? She is a friend who asked me for help."

All this time, Mr. Smithington had been listening patiently to what Jack had been saying. He cleared his throat and proceeded to speak.

"The government had been monitoring Dolly from the time she left the interrogation center and was returned to her home. Of course you had a hunch about that, you told her as much. The government did not believe Dolly had prior knowledge of the crimes committed but due to her propensity towards emotional hysteria, brought about by the separation of her long time partner, they decided that monitoring her was not only warranted but necessary to safeguard her life. A person in that state of mind, there is no telling what they might do."

"Could they not have kept her in protective custody?" asked Jack.

"That seemed a bit too drastic at the time, but that is exactly where she is right now. After the phone call she placed to your residence the government wisely chose to have two of their nursing attendants pick her up and deliver her to a convalescent center."

"May I see her?"

"No, not just yet, I'm afraid. She is much too agitated to see anyone so soon, the shock and all. So tell me Jack. You said that you found out last night that this was a case of mistaken identity. Who told you this?"

Careful now Jack thought to himself, be very careful.

"Dolly had told me that someone from the morgue, that knew her and George, had e-mailed her the information concerning his death. I went to the morgue yesterday to verify what I believed was a mistake."

"So you saw that person who sent Dolly the e-mail and they told you it was all a big mistake?"

"No. I believe that the person who sent the e-mail was a woman friend of theirs. The person that I saw at the morgue was a man."

"So this man told you it was a mistake. Mistaken identity, I recall, is what you said."

"No. The man said that there had been no such person as George 178B9 sent to the morgue. I just assumed it to be a case of mistaken identity."

Now everything depended on Shelly, Jack thought. If she breaks down under questioning he is done for. The jig would be up. But if he told the truth about seeing Shelly it would prove he knew George was dead. Mr. Smithington looked long and hard at Jack. Sternly as if trying to weigh every word he had said. Mere seconds of silence passed by but it felt longer.

Finally, Mr. Smithington grinned and said, "That was a good assumption on your part Jack. A case of mistaken identity is exactly what it was. Even though you would have made a good detective, don't forget that you're not one."

Jack tried his utmost not to look surprised.

"The woman that sent Dolly the e-mail was questioned. Apparently she did not check his identity card. She only caught a glimpse of his face when she was leaving for home after her shift had ended. The striking resemblance to George had given rise to panic and caused her to make an assumption also. Unfortunately, it was her assumption that has resulted in all this trouble."

"She must need glasses," said Jack.

"Oh no, on the contrary," said Mr. Smithington, "the man sent to the morgue was George 178B9's double. He was an exact twin. When George was created some forty odd years ago, laboratory workers paired both his cell samples with the same two cell samples of an opposite donor. This created twins. That would have been very irregular then and it's certainly illegal now. Rules and regulations forbid it, the government having learned from past mistakes. This whole situation has been rather 'off the wall' you might say."

"Wow! All this trouble was caused because of that? Does Dolly know?"

"Yes we told her."

"I'll bet she was relieved to find that out."

"Dolly is still under sedation for shock but the doctors believe she will come around in time and make a full recovery."

"Dorrissa and I would love to see her...When she is well enough to receive visitors of course."

"The government has given a lot of thought to Dolly's situation. She has been through so much. I believe that they are seriously considering downgrading her status and reuniting her with George out on the west coast, extenuating circumstances and all. This government is not without compassion for its citizens. It shows mercy and fairness when it's appropriate, and that is one of the reasons why it is so great."

"That sounds terrific. Could we see her before she leaves?"

"Well Jack, there's an old saying that you might have heard before. It's sometimes best to let sleeping controllers lie. You have caused quite a ruckus with your little bit of detective work. You know as well as I do only partners are allowed by law to visit the deceased in government morgues. And that is by government invitation only.

"You have raked the coals, stirred up the flame, so to speak. Our government does not like to be reminded of past mistakes. They especially do not want their citizens to be reminded of them. It took every ounce of influence I possess to keep that morgue fiasco out of your personal file. In fact Charles, the person at the morgue that you talked to, had to be bribed with three days paid leave just to keep his trap shut."

"I'm sorry about all the trouble I've caused you," said Jack.

"Never mind son. Like I said before, I like you. Upstart that you are you remind me of myself at your age. Kind of like a chip off the old block, even though none of us know where our chips lie anymore. And rightly so! But I want you to promise me that you will never take matters like this into your own hands again."

"I promise," said Jack, "never ever!"

"By the way, I told you I was waiting to hear back from Gary Taftling about your new appointment."

"Yes Sir."

"He called yesterday afternoon, while you were playing detective. The Prime Minister and his entire cabinet want to see you Monday morning at the Parliament Buildings. You have a nine forty-five a.m. appointment with them."

"I...I don't know what to say...Except thank you Sir. Thank you so very much for everything. All your help, your trust..."

"You're welcome Jack. Now don't you disappoint me. I have a lot of faith in your capabilities."

"I won't Sir."

"By the way, Jack."

"Yes Sir?"

"That Charles fellow, we gave him three days off. I don't see any reason that you shouldn't receive the same. After all, your intentions were good. You just went about it the wrong way. Take the rest of the week off with pay, starting now. Relax, go shopping. Buy yourself a new suit. You need to look good for Monday morning."

"Thank you Sir, I will."

Jack left Mr. Smithington's office on cloud nine. Not for the news of the appointment or the three paid vacation days. He knew he was offered the same bribe that Charles received to keep quiet. It didn't matter. The only thing that did matter was that the government did not suspect the depth of his knowledge. If they had, no bribe would have been offered. He would have been terminated long before now. No, Jack was on cloud nine because with his acceptance of the bribe it meant that he had escaped the George and Dolly ordeal, reputation unscathed. Now he had to phone Dorrissa. He also felt he owed Shelly a huge debt of gratitude. He hoped she had come out of this situation faring as well as he did. Funny though, she had told him the name of the man at the morgue was Charlie. Not Charles as his boss had called him. Perhaps he is only called Charlie by his co-workers. Am I ever glad Mr. Smithington never asked me his name, he thought. What a lucky break.

Did he believe Mr. Smithington's explanation about George? Of course he didn't. Not with the death of Ron 2316T34 staring him in the face. Could Ron have been a double also? He didn't think so. The explanation of George clearly was a beauty though. He had to give his boss, or somebody, credit for coming up with that one. But this was definitely not the time to delve into it deeper. And what of Dolly, what would be her fate? She was not a criminal. Surely the government would look after her.

Becka looked up to see Jack just as he rounded the corner. What a fine form of a Crehu he cut as he strode towards her, she thought. Jack smiled exultantly upon seeing her gaze.

"I guess it would be an understatement to say the meeting went well?"

"To be sure!" said Jack, beaming, barely able to confine his joy. "I've got a meeting with the Internal Prime Minister and his cabinet on Monday morning. They want to meet with me and discuss the possibility of my being the new government media spokesperson regarding Family Survival Groups."

"Oh," gulped Becka, "that's," she paused, "wonderful news. Congratulations," she said, solemnly.

Were those tears welling in her eyes, wondered Jack.

"What's all this then," Jack said, as he walked over to her desk and crouched down to look into her eyes. Becka tried to blink back the tears that trickled down her cheeks, to no avail. She raised her left hand to cover her eyes and turned her head away. Jack reached out his hand and gently placed it on her cheek to bring her head back around. He looked into Becka's red swelling eyes with care and compassion. Exerting an upward pressure with his hand underneath her chin, he stood erect bringing her from her seat. Jack placed one arm around her back drawing her close into him. He moved his other hand to the back of her head, easing it against his shoulder. Becka trembled in his arms.

"Shh," he whispered in her ear as he stroked her hair, and the side of her cheek, ever so tenderly.

"Becka, Becka, Becka. Everything will be fine. I promise."

"Oh Jack," Becka cried. "I'm going to miss you so much."

The wafting fragrance of her perfume exploded upon his senses. Placing both hands on her waist, he delicately moved her away and gazed longingly upon her. With simultaneous glances, darting between mouth and eyes, they kissed. It was a violent yet passionate kiss. Then all of a sudden, filled with guilt and remorse, Jack broke away.

"I'm sorry, I can't," Jack said, looking down at the floor. Now, slowly bringing his head up with apologetic expression, he said, "This isn't right, I..."

Becka raised her hand to Jack's lips, touching them softly, delicately. Cocking her head to one side, with an understanding look, she said, "I know. Go phone Dorrissa and tell her the news."

The elation that Jack had felt just a few minutes earlier had now been replaced by sadness. Becka's acknowledgement of his regret, and acceptance of it, had replaced his guilt with gloom. He truly loved Dorrissa, but the attraction he had for Becka confounded his reasoning. With a half-hearted smile, Jack turned and went into his office in a somewhat melancholy, despondent state, and closed his door. Becka placed the hand that she had covered Jack's lips with to her own, kissed it, closed her eyes, and sighed.

"Dorrissa, hi, how has your day been?"

"Good," she said. Viewing him on the monitor she added, "You don't look yourself?"

"I've just come from Mr. Smithington's office. I have a meeting scheduled for Monday morning with the Internal Prime Minister and his cabinet to discuss the new job."

"That's why you look down in the dumps. I was afraid it might be that. I hope the meeting doesn't go well. I really don't want you to get that job."

"I know. Look we can't talk about it on the phone. I've got a surprise for you. That's the reason I phoned."

"Please," Dorrissa begged, "no more surprises. You know I don't like them."

"You might be pleased with this one. How would you like some company on your trip to the cell repository?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." said Jack, halting deliberately for effect, "the old man gave me the rest of the week off. I'm on my way home now. He told me to go and buy a new suit. So I would look good at the meeting. Can you believe that?"

"Jack, are you serious?"

"Honest. Cross my heart. Do you think they have any stores up there where you are going?"

"Hey, c'mon, it's Ottawa. What do you think?"

"So, what do you say?"

"I say..." replied Dorrissa, halting deliberately in a form of mimicry, "I'd better get Gail to book another ticket."

"Maybe we can stay for the weekend and come back Sunday," suggested Jack.

"Maybe we can. What about Sloan?" Dorrissa asked.

"Right...Sloan. I forgot to tell you that he asked to go to the city on the weekend. He told me he wanted to finish the tour of the Parliament Buildings. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more, say no more."

"Right, I hear you. Let me go and talk to Gail. I'll see you at home tonight."

"Tonight then," said Jack. "Bye."

Seeing Dorrissa on the phone monitor made him feel much better. He hadn't told Becka about having the rest of the week off yet. He decided to wait until he made sure he found a ride for Sloan. He picked up the phone and called Harry.

"Hi Harry."

"Yes Jack, what can I do for you? Your boarder wasn't complaining about my choice of music on his ride home was he?" laughed Harry.

"No, no, nothing to do with that. I'm going away for the next few days with Dorrissa. I was hoping you could bring Sloan back and forth to work, including driving him home tonight." Jack could see the disgruntled look on Harry's face as he frowned into the monitor.

"This isn't going to become a regular thing is it Jack? 'Cause I heard about that appointment you're up for and if I wanted to be a taxi driver I would have applied for a license."

"No. I promise it won't be. If I get the new job I'll arrange for his transfer to another house with new hosts."

"I'll do it on one condition, Jack."

"Name it."

"Just make sure it isn't my house. The guy is creepy. He gives me the willies."

"You got it. Thanks Harry. It's just until the end of this week."

"It'd better be."

"Hmm," thought Jack, hanging up the phone. Sloan's cocky arrogance doesn't seem to be winning him many friends. I wonder how he's getting on in his new job.

"Becka," said Jack, popping his head out the door. "I'm going down to the training department for a few minutes. I want to find out how our new boarder Sloan is getting on."

"See you when you get back, Jack," winked Becka.

Jack made his way to the training department and asked to speak to Brian, the day supervisor. Jack told Brian that he would be away for the rest of the week and Harry had offered to make sure Sloan had transportation back and forth from work. Harry was a stickler for leaving every day right on time so Sloan couldn't be late. Jack asked him how Sloan was doing. Brian replied that he was doing what was required but would often display a moody demeanor. Brian believed Sloan felt the job he was doing was beneath him and his capabilities. Brian sensed an underlying, burning ambition in Sloan to succeed, to advance, with rapid succession.

"Yea, I noticed that too," said Jack. "Okay Brian, I'll see you later. Don't forget to let Sloan know that Harry will be his chauffer tonight."

Jack passed Mr. Smithington in the hallway walking back to his office.

"Are you still here?" exclaimed Mr. Smithington.

"I'm just leaving," replied Jack.

Once back in his office, he called out, "Becka."

"Yes?"

"I've just seen Mr. Smithington. He told me to take the rest of the week off. With my appointment on Monday, I should be back later that afternoon or possibly not until Tuesday."

"I'll take care of everything. You have a nice holiday," Becka offered.

"That's my girl," countered Jack.

I only wish, dreamed Becka.

"You have a good weekend too. I'll see you next week," he added.

Jack returned home in the early part of the afternoon and thought about his meeting on Monday morning. He tried to envision how it would go and what he would say. He decided to prepare a nice dinner for Dorrissa and have it ready for when she got home. Sloan was the first to arrive.

"Harry told me you have the rest of the week off and that you are going away."

"That's right. Aren't I lucky?"

"But you promised I could go to the city this weekend. Who's going to drive me to the train station Friday night?" Sloan asked, angrily.

"There are other people who work at the institute that live in the city. I'm sure you possess the resources to figure out a way," Jack replied.

"But I have to have your permission," Sloan whined, spitefully.

"No problem. I'll write you a note."

Sloan felt like a small rearing center kid getting a note from his teachmaster. "Thanks a lot," he said, and stormed off to his room.

Dorrissa arrived home soon after.

"Hi Jack. The arrangements are all made. Gail was able to book an extra seat and we leave tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. Our return flight departs at 3:00 p.m. Sunday."

"That's terrific," Jack replied.

"I'm so excited!" exclaimed Dorrissa.

"I've made us dinner. It's all ready."

"So am I. I love it when you cook. But only two place settings? Where's Sloan?" asked Dorrissa.

"Three guesses. The first two don't count."

"I'll go tell him dinner is ready."

Dorrissa was back in a few minutes saying, "He'll take it in his room."

"Go figure. I'm not surprised," replied Jack, and went on to tell her about their latest altercation.

"So what happened to Dolly? Did you find out?"

He told her about his conversation with Mr. Smithington.

"The chances of George having a double turning up dead at this precise time must be one in a zillion," said Dorrissa. "I'm so glad for Dolly."

Jack nodded in agreement. He only wished he could tell her everything. Now wasn't the time. After dinner, they packed for their trip. When it was all done, they called it a night and went to bed.

Harry came to pick up Sloan next morning. Jack was loading luggage into the trunk of the car.

"Hello Jack. By the way, you never said where you were going?"

"You never asked. It's no big secret though. Dorrissa has a business trip in Ottawa so we thought we'd make a weekend getaway out of it."

"Lucky you. Have a good holiday."

"I will Harry and thanks again for everything."

Jack and Dorrissa arrived at the airport at nine-fifty, with barely enough time left to board their flight. Seated and waiting for liftoff, a problem surfaced during the preflight check. The landing gear hatch was not operating properly and seemed to be sticking. All passengers were ordered off the plane and it was past noon before it was determined that the aircraft must be taken out of service. Another flight to accommodate everyone would not be available until 5:00 p.m. Jack and Dorrissa considered driving to Ottawa but, when they thought of the time it would take to pick up their car and drive there, it made no sense. They waited in the airport lounge along with the other disgruntled passengers until takeoff. Finally after arriving in Ottawa, checking into the Empire Hotel and unpacking, Jack asked Dorrissa if she would like to go for dinner.

Deciding to chase away the blues, they dusted off the cobwebs and dressed in their finery. The day was shot anyway. It was a good thing they were there for the weekend thought Dorrissa. She had not planned to be working on Saturday but now it was imperative that she did. A late night of dinner and dancing did much to improve her spirits. In the wee hours of the morning, Dorrissa set the alarm on her travel clock. Unfortunately for her, it was set for p.m. rather than a.m. It was almost nine-thirty when she awoke. Aghast with her string of bad luck, Dorrissa quickly showered and dressed.

"How about breakfast before you leave?" Jack asked.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly Darling. I'm late enough as it is. I really want to get to the cell repository and start work. Do you mind Dear? We can have a real nice dinner tonight instead. I'm sure to be famished."

"Sure, I understand. I think I'll take a tour of the downtown. It's been ages since I was here. Maybe I'll find a suit."

"You just look, mister. I want to be there and have last say before you make a purchase. I'm always modeling for you. Fair is fair. It's about time the shoe was on the other foot."

With a kiss and a hug, Dorrissa was out the door.

Similar to other cities in the country, all personal vehicles were banned within its limits. Since the cell repository was on the city's outskirts, and public transportation would be too tedious of a journey, Dorrissa hailed a cab. Security at the repository was impenetrable. Surrounded by barbed wire atop an electric fence, it was constantly patrolled by armed guards. The cab pulled up to the gatehouse.

"Can I help you lady?" the guard asked.

"Yes. My name is Dorrissa 172A12. I'm the birthing lab superintendent at the Wycliffe complex just north of Toronto. I'm here to make a personal inspection and I wish to speak with the manager of the repository."

"May I see some identification please?"

"Certainly you may."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, I don't."

"Then I'm sorry lady, I can't let you in."

"Excuse me," said Dorrissa, her stubbornness now beginning to surface. "My identity card shows my rank and profession and allows me complete access to all operations concerning the creation process. I don't need any damn appointments. I suggest you had better phone the manager and tell him I'm here. I do not like to be kept waiting," she fumed.

"Just a moment please," said the guard, as he turned and walked back to the gatehouse. In a few minutes he was back.

"Alright, you may proceed through on foot. The repository manager will meet you at the front door. You driver," said the guard, "turn your vehicle around and leave! You are not permitted inside here. You know the rules."

Dorrissa entered the compound and made her way to the front door. She inserted her card into a slot by the door and it opened. "Hmm," she said to herself as she walked inside, "I knew this card would work."

Michael 1126A9, the repository manager, was just approaching from the distance.

"You must be Dorrissa. I see you were able to let yourself in. This unscheduled visitation is highly irregular," said Michael, quite flabbergasted.

"Is it? I could not have gained inside access without the required clearance could I? I would like to do an inspection of your cell repository. This is where I place my orders and I have some rather legitimate concerns that need to be addressed."

"All of our inspections are done by appointments," replied Michael.

"All?" repeated Dorrissa, in a questioning manner.

"Well of course, the Minister of Creation or another highly placed official can randomly choose..."

"I happen to know Thatcher, Minister of Creation, quite well. Perhaps we should give him a call," volunteered Dorrissa.

Michael thought about it for a moment. "I don't think we need to do that. It is quite evident that you have all the right credentials for clearance in this compound. We rarely see anyone with your rank and position wanting to examine our operations. What can I do for you?"

Dorrissa explained the nature of her visit. She said she wanted to see for herself how the inside workers gathered cell samples and how they were prepared for delivery to birthing labs. She wanted to see, with her own eyes, that there were no problems at this end.

"Did you bring the files of the ruined samples? I can have someone make the closest matches to them as possible," said Michael.

"Actually," said Dorrissa, "knowing my needs, while watching your workers performing their duties, I could let them know my preferences."

"Preferences?" wondered Michael.

"That was a bad choice of words. I meant to say requirements. The last batch of samples I received from you here were predominantly low level Crehu samples slated to be ordinary workers in society. I need proper matches for the earmarked, high level professions that I have in storage back at my lab."

"So you actually want to help pick and choose? No one has ever..." began Michael, but stopped abruptly in mid sentence when he noticed Dorrissa's perturbed expression. "I know your rank and position more than entitles you to be here, but I need to see some paperwork from you for my files before I can grant you clearance."

"No problem," replied Dorrissa, handing Michael the required documentation she had prepared beforehand.

Looking it over very astutely, Michael replied, "Where would you like to go first?"

"I'd like to see the storage facility where the samples are kept."

"Follow me please," said Michael.

The manager led Dorrissa through a vast, winding corridor of interconnecting rooms that felt as though she was in a veritable labyrinth. Coming to a locked door, Michael removed his identity card and inserted it into a slot. A blue light came on. He next placed his hand on a hand mold by the entrance. A yellow light came on. Looking into a viewfinder, a flash of a retina scanner produced a white light. Last but not least, Michael removed a piece of blotting paper from a stacking container outside the door, licked it, and inserted it into another slot. A green light came on. All systems go. His identity card popped back out, the door automatically sprang open and all the lights went off. Dorrissa was amazed.

"How's that for state-of-the-art security?" he asked.

"I'm impressed."

"A final reading of an accessible person's D.N.A. is required to gain admittance."

As they walked in, Michael explained that the storage of samples was confined to a refrigerated warehouse to the left of them. Related statistic/picture files, the corresponding paperwork, were stored to the right of them. Directly in front were the computers that allowed his staff to search for donors. All computer files, as well as paper files, contained pictures of the donors. The actual cell samples were kept in frozen containers marked with the name of the donor.

"May I do a search of favorable files? If your system operates like mine, I should be able to enter sought after characteristics as well as other pertinent information and receive similar matches on screen," said Dorrissa.

"Knock yourself out. How many samples did you say were ruined?"

"One hundred and eighteen samples had to be destroyed."

"That's a lot of work. I should get you some help. Jane is shift boss today. I will get her to show you around. If there is anything you need just let her know."

"Thank you very much Michael. I did not want to rush this though. I'm in town for the weekend and if I don't manage to finish today, I'd like to come back and finish up tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Michael paused. "Tomorrow is Saturday? I don't work weekends."

"Ah, but I do if need be," stated Dorrissa.

"I'll talk to you later. If you require assistance at any time, there is staff in both the cell storage area and the files area. I shall leave you to it then. I've got to get back to my office. If you need me, that's where I'll be."

"Thank you Michael. I appreciate all your help," said Dorrissa, as he left.

All on her own, not a soul around, Dorrissa began to feed statistics into the machine and watched as proper matches appeared. There were very few samples that remained in the repository from natural born humans. The majority of these had long been procreated. Using her excellent powers of deduction, Dorrissa started to whittle down the required number of samples that she needed. Suddenly, she had a thought. I wonder what the chances are. Dorrissa flicked the program to the D's and typed in 2104, the year of her birth.

Deanna –Diane—Donna—Doreen—Dorrissa

"Let's just see," she whispered to herself.

Dorrissa --- 114T12 (two samples)

Dorrissa --- 123T12 (one sample )

Dorrissa --- 124T12 (two samples)

Dorrissa --- 136T12 (no samples)

Dorrissa --- 143T12 (one sample)

Dorrissa fast forwarded the program. She could have typed in a search of her exact name but was well aware that it could leave a trace.

Dorrissa --- 168T12 (one sample )

Dorrissa --- 170T12 (no samples)

Dorrissa --- I71T12 (one samples)

Dorrissa --- 172T12 (two samples)

She was in shock. There, looking back at her was the picture of an eighteen year old girl. It was her picture. The file stated that both of her cell samples were still in storage. Now, in a feverish pursuit, she switched over to the male program. Dorrissa fast forwarded to the J's. She slowed the speed down and waited.

Jack --- 1145T12 (two samples)

Dorrissa took a deep breath and held it. She could feel her heartbeat rapidly increasing. Becoming dizzy, she exited the program. For what seemed like a very long time, Dorrissa sat there and thought. She thought of the possibilities, she thought of the repercussions. Dorrissa felt a hand on her shoulder begin to gently shake her. A voice penetrated the silence.

"Are you okay?"

Looking up, she could see an older woman with a look of concern on her face staring down at her.

"Yes. I'm fine thank you. I was just deep in thought. I've picked some cell samples out to replace ones from my birthing lab that were destroyed."

"Michael wanted me to come and see how you were getting along and to ask you if you needed any help."

"As a matter of fact," Dorrissa replied, "I was wondering how you crosscheck the files to make sure there are indeed samples available to match these records."

"The only way to do that is by a manual check, but I'm sure you will find everything to be in perfect order."

Dorrissa read the name on the woman's identity card.

"Just the same Jane, I'd like to conduct a manual check on a few of them to substantiate their validation."

"I'm sorry," replied Jane. "That room is off limits to everyone other than repository workers with designated clearance."

"Jane," said Dorrissa, with a slight hint of exasperation. "If you look at my identity card, it plainly shows that my job title and rank give me complete clearance in all government departments pertaining to creation. Did Michael not explain that to you?"

"I'm sorry," said Jane. "We have never before had anyone come here and do what you are doing. It's just going to take me a little getting used to I suppose. Forgive me. Where would you like to begin?"

"There is nothing to forgive. How about showing me how you actually harvest the samples you are looking for?"

Jane and Dorrissa entered into the storage area.

"Here, put this on," said Jane, handing a coat to Dorrissa. "It's kept quite cool in here."

All the cell samples were stored in alphabetical order, as were their files, in sections denoting the identical year in which their donors were born. Even though the samples were not collected until the donor's eighteenth year, it was a more user-friendly system when you went by the year of the donor's birth. Dorrissa watched intently as Jane checked some of her selections to verify their existence. High portable steps on wheels were required to reach the uppermost samples. All samples were kept in individually named containers that could be read and counted by peering through a glass partition. When one was required for use, it was necessary to press a buzzer that released a lock allowing the compartment to open.

The frozen sample had to be placed in a containment unit. It's lifespan in this unit was no more than one hour. Before the hour was up, it had to be placed in a larger, more powerful, transfer unit. It was in refrigerated transfer units that cell samples were shipped. She took careful notice of the entire procedure.

Dorrissa was assigned one of the workers. She counted approximately nineteen or twenty others collecting samples for delivery to various birthing labs. It had taken nearly an hour for the worker to gather and transfer nineteen of her samples. Dorrissa would need almost all of tomorrow to finish.

"All done?" asked Jane upon returning.

"For today," replied Dorrissa.

"How many more do you need?"

"I still need another ninety-nine."

"You'll need a crew to collect that many," said Jane, anxiously.

"I know. I'll be in early tomorrow to finish the selection. Could you please show me the way back to Michael's office?"

"Sure. Right this way."

Dorrissa knocked on Michael's door.

"It's open," he yelled. Seeing Dorrissa, he asked, "How did it go?"

"Fine thank you Michael. We managed to collect nineteen samples today but I'd like to come back tomorrow and finish the rest."

"But tomorrow's Saturday," he persisted.

"Don't you have a shift working tomorrow?"

"Yes, but I won't be here."

"I'll manage fine. Really I will. I shall finish tomorrow as planned. If you ship the samples as soon as possible, my birthing lab should receive them by Monday. That would be good because government only knows how far behind we are in our monthly quota because of this error."

"That's not our fault," maintained Michael.

"Not completely. But you did send us a rather lopsided cell grouping on our last two orders. My presence here should alleviate that problem."

"Very well," said Michael, hemming and hawing. "I'll notify the guards at the gatehouse that you will be back tomorrow."

"Early, if you don't mind,"

"How early is early?"

"Seven a.m."

"Do you want anything else?"

"Well. Perhaps there is one more thing," said Dorrissa.

"Uh huh?" groaned Michael.

"Do you think you could call me a cab?"

"No problem. Take a seat."

Michael began to make small talk with her to pass the time while she waited for a cab. After a short while, she determined that he really didn't seem to be that bad of a fellow. They talked about their jobs and how things had changed over the years. They talked about the weather and found that they were both summer people. Somehow the discussion of Family Survival Groups came up and he was quite keen to find out that Jack was Dorrissa's partner. No sooner having said that, she regretted doing so. She wished she had been more guarded in her conversation. By the time the gatehouse called to let Michael know the cab had arrived, he had really taken a shine to Dorrissa. Never mind that she, just like Jack, was a flirt. Michael wanted more time with Dorrissa. He had never met anyone quite like her, and he knew lots of women.

"Since I likely won't be seeing you again, I really must thank you once more Michael for all your help."

"Don't mention it Dorrissa. There are a few things here at the office I've been meaning to catch up on, so who knows. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow, maybe I won't," replied Michael, with a twinkle in his eye.

"If the former is the case, I'll look forward to it. Bye for now."

Dorrissa walked briskly across the compound to the waiting cab.

Jack had spent the afternoon on a walking tour of the city. All cities are pretty much the same, he rationalized. He did manage to find what appeared to be an upscale restaurant. It specialized in French cuisine and the menu which had been displayed in the window was, as they say, 'bon appe'tete'. There was also a park within walking distance that spanned a large canal. Probably quite beautiful in the summertime when the flowers are in bloom, he thought.

With sore feet and a weary disposition, he decided to pick up a six-pack of beer at an allocation area and go back to his room at the hotel to wait for Dorrissa. It wasn't long before that six-pack became a two-pack and Jack nodded off to sleep.

Dorrissa arrived back at the hotel shortly before seven. Although both hungry and tired, she just rolled her eyes and shook her head when she found Jack asleep on the bed. A smile fell across her lips. Flopping down on the bed, she cupped her hand around Jack's chin and wiggled his head back and forth in slow motion.

"Hey," she said. "Where can a starving young maiden get something to eat around here?"

Jack, half opening his eyes to a squint said, "I know just the place."

He told Dorrissa about the French restaurant he had discovered on his travels. It was approximately a twenty minute walk from the hotel. Considering the time, her state of exhaustion, and the fact she had to rise early next morning, Dorrissa opted to use her feminine wiles to convince Jack to order room service instead. Tomorrow would be a much better night for a restaurant visit.

"I'm easy," said Jack, picking up the phone.

"I'll say," Dorrissa cooed. "But don't broadcast it. I'm not too partial to competition."

"What would you like?" asked Jack.

"Surprise me. I'm going to take a quick shower."

Surprise her eh? She must be tired, he thought.

Jack ordered back ribs for two, extra spicy for himself, baked potatoes with seasoned vegetables and a bottle of red wine to compliment the meal. Dorrissa had her hair up in a towel when dinner arrived.

"Jack," said Dorrissa, as he poured her another glass of wine. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have lived a hundred years ago and have been able to have children?"

"Of course I haven't. Thoughts like that can get you in a lot of trouble. You see too many kids in your line of work. It's beginning to give you crazy ideas."

Seeing the hurt look on Dorrissa's face, he quickly added, "If it were possible to have kids Dorry, I know ours would be knockouts."

She looked up at Jack and smiled.

"Could I have the phone please Jack? I'm going to put in for a wakeup call for five-thirty. I need to be at the cell repository by seven. I've got a full day ahead of me."

"How about I come along?"

"No, I'm sorry Jack. You know you don't have clearance. Even if you did, you'd just be in the way and I'd like to finish as fast as I can."

"Yea, I know."

Dorrissa put in for a 5:00 a.m. wakeup call not wanting to take anymore chances with anything going wrong. Jack turned out the bedside lamp when she had finished. After kissing her goodnight, he soon fell asleep. Dorrissa however, had a plan to formulate. After much thought, she finally came to a decision on how to proceed with it. She then fell into a deep sleep.

The phone rang early next morning startling Dorrissa from her sound, sedate sleep. Jack did not even stir. Getting up and dressed she left the room quietly, careful not to disturb Jack in his slumber. After purchasing two muffins, a sandwich, and a large coffee from a confectionary stand in the hotel lobby, Dorrissa hailed a waiting cab. The guards at the gatehouse were expecting her, and ushered her in, no problem. Using her identity card again to gain access, she entered the building and signed in at the front desk.

"Good morning Dorrissa. Michael said you would probably be on time. Do you remember your way to the storage area or shall I fetch someone to lead the way?" asked the front desk receptionist.

"I believe I can find it," said Dorrissa, with a smile.

"Fine, just ring the bell when you get there. The nightshift is still working and one of them will let you in. They know you're coming."

"Thank you," said Dorrissa.

Her good sense of direction, and photographic memory, helped lead her through the maze of corridors until she finally came to the entrance door of the storage area. She rang the buzzer and waited. Once again, still no answer. Remembering the steps that Michael had taken the day before, she copied them in sequence finishing with the saliva test. It worked. Her card popped out, the lights went off and the door opened. Dorrissa knew the hand mould and retina scanner would work because all characteristic checks are done from a centralized computer storage facility that sits in a non disclosed and top-secret location. It was the saliva D.N.A. test she was curious about. She stepped inside and the door closed behind her. Where was everyone she wondered? Looking in the file area, she saw no one. The same thing when she checked the cell storage area. With a shrug of her shoulders, she decided she had better sit down and start on the computer selection files. Ninety-nine was a large number to deal with. Ten minutes into the selection process, a group of workers arrived.

"You must be Dorrissa," said one of the women.

"Yes I am."

"We were in the lunchroom on break. How did you get in?"

"I followed the same procedure that Michael did yesterday. Obviously my elevated rank, position, and corresponding D.N.A. are sufficient security clearance for my admittance."

"Oh, I see. We have to get to work now. When you need us, just holler."

"Thanks, I will."

By ten o'clock Dorrissa had selected almost forty files. The day staff had replaced the night staff and she gave the workers her selections. One group of workers harvested the actual cell samples, and another gathered the matching file documents. Dorrissa had earlier searched for donors containing similar statistical makeup and likeness in comparison to her and Jack. They were among those selected. She had found two different donors for each of them. Government laws strictly prohibited the release of both samples from a single donor simultaneously. This was so no two identical samples could ever again be created and accidentally cause twins to be produced. Their similar D.N.A. levels would cause the government all kinds of identity problems, one of the greatest being the monitoring of them if need be. This is exactly what caused the mistake with George, she thought. She also realized that it was impossible for her to select her own and her partner's samples for creation within her birthing lab. All samples she selected would be meticulously scrutinized for error and irregularity.

The repository workers would take one sample from each of her designated donors. She would have to retrieve them and make the switch with her and Jack's, away from all surveillance. They then had to be quickly replaced in the transfer unit before thawing commenced. No easy feat by any means. Lunch hour would be her only chance. She had noticed, the day before, that everyone took lunch at the same time.

By noon, she had collected a list of thirty-four more names and was now three quarters of the way done. Dorrissa had previously written the four donor names she had chosen for Jack and her on a piece of paper and stuffed it into her pocket. She took the list of new names into the storage area and summoned Rachel, the group leader. "How's it going?" she asked.

"It's going well. We just finished collecting your first list of samples."

"That's great. I have another list for you. I'm more than three quarters of the way finished now."

"Actually," said Rachel, "we were just going to break for lunch. You must be hungry. We have vending machines in the lunchroom."

"No, I'm fine. I brought a sandwich with me and I'd really like to keep plugging away at it until I'm done. I only have today to finish up." This would be perfect thought Dorrissa, just what she had been waiting for.

"We usually take lunch all together in a group. I suppose we could take a split lunch. Leave a few people to help you."

"No. I'll be fine. I can just continue on with a new list. I wouldn't want to disrupt your regular routine."

"Okay. We'll see you in an hour."

"Before you go, where did you put the samples that you already collected?"

"They are all locked up, sealed in a transfer unit awaiting shipment to your complex."

"What about the files?" Dorrissa asked, trying not to show concern.

"They are in the transfer unit with the samples," replied Rachel.

"Good work. See you after lunch."

Now, Dorrissa really had a problem. She had planned to switch the samples from the storage compartments with the ones from the transfer unit herself, away from prying eyes. What could she do now? She only had one hour. Hurrying back to the computer, she would quickly have to find four new names and switch their samples with her and Jack's. Each name must have only one sample left on file. If there were two, and Dorrissa was to switch just one of the samples, the workers collecting them for her in all probability could pick the wrong one. She knew if she was to have any chance of success at all, each of the four samples would have to come from the same year of creation, 2104. She did not have the time to access other areas in the vast storage facility. Within fifteen minutes, she had her new names.

Now, almost in a state of panic, Dorrissa hastened to the cell storage area. She quickly found a containment unit and raced to the female D section for the year 2104. She removed both her samples and placed them in the unit. The first name on her list was Betty 1230T12. Switching the labels on the containers, she placed hers in Betty's slot. Betty's sample with Dorrissa's name on it went into the containment unit to be returned to Dorrissa's slot. The next name on the list was Jacqueline 158T12. After switching hers for Jacqueline's, Dorrissa ran back to her name slot and put in the two switched replacements.

It was important for the characteristics to match as much as possible Dorrissa believed. When the samples with her name on them were eventually harvested and sent to a birthing lab for procreation, if the physical characteristics such as hair color and eye color didn't match donor statistics, an investigation could possibly be launched to find out what happened.

Dorrissa checked the clock on the wall. She had twenty minutes before the workers would return. Directly opposite of the female 2104 samples, on the other side of the room, were the male 2104 samples. Dorrissa hurried to the J's as fast as her legs would carry her. After removing Jack's samples and placing them into the containment unit, the next name on her list was Ken 1124T12. She made the switch. Next was David 129T12. Now she had to rush back to the J's.

Just as she started climbing the portable ladder to replace Jack's samples, Dorrissa heard the door to the storage area open as the workers began to shuffle in. Frantically she climbed the ladder. To be caught red-handed with Jack's samples, especially since he was her partner, would bring an end to everything. Why couldn't they have been late she thought.

"Dorrissa?" a voice yelled out.

"Dorrissa?" again it repeated.

"No. She's not in here Sir."

Dorrissa quickly placed the samples into Jack's slot. Leaving the containment unit on a platform by the stairs midway down, she almost tripped before reaching the bottom. With feet on firm ground, Dorrissa pushed the stairs away from the J's and into the C's.

Rachel rounded the corner almost bumping into Dorrissa in the process.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked, in a domineering tone.

"I'm sorry. I was looking for you. I forgot to give you the new list I made up before lunch."

Eyeing Dorrissa suspiciously, she said, "But we are just back from lunch. That's why no one was in here."

"I've been so busy concentrating entirely on all the different donor profiles, I didn't realize the time. I thought you were all back to work. I came in here looking for you to give you the list. Here it is," said Dorrissa, handing it to the woman.

"Didn't you hear me calling you?"

"I thought I heard something. I was coming out to check."

"Michael is looking for you."

"Oh thank you Rachel. I'll go see him right away."

On the way out, Dorrissa heard one of the workers say, "Hey. Has anyone seen my containment unit?"

Another voice shouted back, "Knowing you, it could be anywhere. You'd lose your head if it wasn't attached."

Then she heard laughter. Dorrissa allowed herself a contented smile. Success! She had pulled it off.

It was about ten o'clock when Jack began to stir. Scratching his head, in the middle of a yawn, he looked at the clock. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stretched and said, "Wow that was a good night's rest." After taking a fast shower he went downstairs to the hotel restaurant to grab some breakfast. Once his hunger pangs had been taken care of he would go shopping for a new suit. He hoped to find two or three that he liked and he'd bring Dorrissa along the next day to help him make a final choice. If, by her previous comments on the matter, he knew what was good for him. Jack smiled to himself. They enjoyed dressing each other up in new apparel.

Dorrissa managed to track down Michael.

"Hi. I was wondering if you would make it in today. I heard you were looking for me," said Dorrissa.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. I was wondering how you were making out?" said Michael.

"I'm more than half way done. I hope to be finished by four."

"Rachel didn't know where you were."

"Actually, I was looking for her. I knew she finished my first list and I had made a new one for her."

"I see. I had better not keep you if you want to be finished by four. Drop by my office to say goodbye when you're done."

"Most certainly I will."

Dorrissa went back to the computer and spent the rest of the afternoon finishing her list. She had been careful to interject random and sporadic donor names, of Crehus that exhibited similar sex attraction, in all of her lists so as not to arouse suspicion when they were checked before shipment. Certain members of the government showed preferences toward these cell groupings. And by law, not being allowed to discriminate, repositories were required to send them out to all birthing labs for creation. Having handed the end results to Rachel, just before departing, she asked, "I haven't seen Jane around today?"

"She has this Saturday off."

"I'd like to thank you for all of your help. It was greatly appreciated, believe me. Please thank all of your staff and Jane also, when you see her. You are such a wonderful group of people. I'm thoroughly impressed by your performance here. I only wish the workers in my birthing lab were as dedicated. I shall file a report with commendations for you all. You have definitely given me some ideas to help make my workplace function more efficiently."

"Why thank you Dorrissa. Thank you very much," said Rachel, eyes wide in astonishment.

"You take care," said Dorrissa, giving her a big hug. "Maybe we'll see each other again someday."

Just as Dorrissa opened the door to leave, Rachel shouted, "I'll make sure we finish this list before we leave tonight so everything is ready for early shipping on Monday morning."

"Thanks," smiled Dorrissa. "See you."

Walking in complete bliss, head over heels, Dorrissa knocked on the office door of Michael to say goodbye.

"Mission accomplished?" he asked.

"Yes. That's a weight off my shoulders Thank Government."

Dorrissa went on to say what a thrill it was for her being there and seeing such a well run operation. Any problems she experienced had definitely resulted from her own department. She pulled no punches in extolling praise and gratitude, flattery and adulation upon Michael in the way he ran the cell repository. After all, if she ever had need of a return visit, it was imperative to leave on good terms. At the end of her oration she could see that Michael definitely looked pleased. He called a cab for her and saw her out to the front gate when it arrived, waving vigorously as she was driven away.

When Dorrissa got back to the hotel, shortly after five, Jack was waiting for her.

"You look quite happy with yourself."

"That's an understatement," Dorrissa professed. "I'm exceedingly delighted. My work here is finished. I've got the rest of the weekend to spend, away from home, with the man of my dreams. What more could a girl ask for?"

"Hmm," smiled Jack, jumping on the bed and slapping it with his hand by his side, "maybe you should come over here. I'm especially interested in hearing more about 'the man of my dreams' part."

"Just watch me," giggled Dorrissa, as she ran across the room and jumped on top of him.

The restaurant Jack made reservations at was called, The French Delight. Once inside, they were approached by the maitre d'.

"May I help you?" he asked Jack.

"Yes. I have reservations for two under the name of Jackman."

Dorrissa looked at Jack puzzled.

"Come right this way Sir," said the maitre d', who seated them at a nice secluded table. "The waitress will be with you momentarily."

"Thank you," said Jack.

"Jackman?" questioned Dorrissa.

"My name is Jack and I'm a man," he answered nonchalantly. "So there!"

Then, breaking out in a grin, he added, "When I'm traveling, I like to be incognito."

"Right," said Dorrissa. "With your identity card sticking out like a sore thumb?"

"He never even noticed."

"At least you remembered to make reservations. You didn't have to bribe our way in this time."

"Only because I need the graft for my new suit," Jack laughed.

"That's right! Did you go shopping today?"

"You bet. And I found three beauties. They are all at different stores. I thought we could go check them out tomorrow and you can help me decide."

"Seeing you in a new suit? I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Sloan had managed to secure a ride to the train station from one of the workers at the institute. He found someone willing to drive him the day before, and had phoned Trent to confirm their getting together. Sloan had spent Thursday evening in a thorough search of every nook and cranny of Jack and Dorrissa's house snooping for any damning evidence that he could use to discredit Jack and exact his revenge, all to no avail. He did find the poem that Jack had written Dorrissa regarding his imminent new position with the government. Dorry, he thought at the time, how quaint. Sloan caught the train and got off at Parliament Station. Trent was there to meet him.

"So how was your first week of work?" asked Trent.

"Monotonous, utterly monotonous," replied Sloan.

"That's too bad. Hopefully things will pick up."

"They'd better."

"Let's drop your things off at my place. I've got a grand night planned for us."

"Let's do that," said Sloan. "I need some excitement."

Trent took Sloan out to a restaurant for burgers and fries. Nothing extravagant as neither of them had much money, but the food was good. After dinner, he took him to a gay bar in the heart of the city. Sloan couldn't believe his eyes when he first saw inside. The clientele was made up exclusively of men. Young men, old men, tall men, short men. There were men dancing with each other, openly kissing, frenching, as Trent called it. Music blared out of loudspeakers with a deafening roar. A disc jockey, stripped down to the waist and covered in chains, directed the music.

"They have all-girl clubs too," stated Trent. "Here, have a seat. Bring us a couple of beers," he said, to a handsome young stud.

"Let me know if I can bring you anything else," teased the waiter. "Especially for your friend there," he added, dragging his tongue across his lips and thrusting his pelvis back and forth.

"Never you mind," said Trent. "He's with me."

"I love your natural sense of adventure," chuckled Sloan, now beginning to unwind.

"See those three queens over there," said Trent, pointing to a table.

"They are all cabinet ministers in the government. This is their favorite haunt. More than likely, they'll leave tonight with a new bit of fluff."

Sloan quietly studied the politicians' table.

"Over there are two doctors. Beside them is a Supreme Court judge."

Sloan wasn't listening.

"Introduce me to the cabinet ministers Trent."

"What are you saying?" Trent asked.

"Jack has a meeting with the Prime Minister and his cabinet on Monday morning. I'd simply like to meet them before he does."

Trent got up and approached the table where the cabinet ministers were sitting.

"Excuse me. My friend over there," said Trent, pointing to Sloan, "and I were wondering if we could join you for a drink?"

The three men looked over at Sloan sitting alone at the table. The balding, bespectacled one spoke up. "By all means my young fellow. We would welcome your company. My associates and I rather enjoy meeting new...ah...Faces. Yes, faces. Don't we gentlemen?"

The other men laughed in agreement while Trent went to fetch Sloan.

"Here. You can sit here," said the balding man to Sloan, as he pulled out a chair beside him.

"I've seen you before, haven't I?" the portly man of the bunch asked Trent.

"Probably," Trent replied. "I don't live too far away."

The third man, somewhat homely in his appearance, said to Sloan, "I haven't seen you here before. Surely you're both too young to be partners. Just friends are you?"

"We were raised in the same center. Sloan there, recently completed his time," Trent said laughing. "We met again last week by chance."

"I'm quite capable of speaking for myself," said Sloan, obviously ticked off by Trent's interjection.

"Why don't we introduce ourselves," said the balding, bespectacled man.

"My name is John Billarts. My stout friend here is Mr. Peter Robbuster and over there," pointing to the unattractive member of the group, "we have Mr. Berry Gadwinner."

"My name is Sloan."

"And I'm Trent."

"Great. Nice to make your acquaintance," said Mr. Billarts.

"You're the Minister of National Defense aren't you?" enquired Sloan.

"Ah, you've heard of me then. My reputation must precede me," said Mr. Billarts.

"Yes. And I've heard of Mr. Robbuster and Mr. Gadwinner too. You're all cabinet ministers," said Sloan, very pleased with himself.

"That's right my boy. We're lonely cabinet ministers. So tell me Sloan," said Mr. Billarts, as he moved his hand under the table and placed it on Sloan's knee squeezing it firmly. "Where is your space from here?"

"I reside outside of the city in the home of a host."

"Oh. You're in the program of selective grooming for the chosen few eh? Where do you work?" asked Mr. Billarts, intrigued by this pretentious, up-and-coming, young man.

"I work at the Rank Institute. I just finished my first week."

Mr. Billarts removed his hand from Sloan's knee and rested his elbow on the back of his own chair, now more interested in the conversation than in the converser.

"Tell me," Mr. Billarts paused. "There's a man there, a Crehu actually, named Jack. Jack 1145A12. He was on the media screen last weekend. I don't know if you saw it but he reported on the capture and arrest of a Family Survival Group."

"Yes I saw it," said Sloan.

"They are nasty people those," said Mr. Billarts. "They are trying to destroy our society. So many have been coming out of the woodwork lately it's been quite frustrating to deal with. It's not my jurisdiction of course. Leonard Jamling, the Justice Minister, is the man in charge. He has a few suspected groups under surveillance right this minute. If I had my way, I'd send in the army to wipe them out. No questions asked. Hmm, where was I? Oh yea, that man Jack. Do you know him?"

"As a matter of fact, he's my host," smiled Sloan, smugly.

"You don't say," replied Mr. Billarts, veritably surprised. "What's he like?"

The general conversation around the table had all stopped by now. Everyone was listening intently to Sloan and Mr. Billarts.

"He's very arrogant. And he's homophobic. He positively hates homosexuals."

Mr. Billarts removed the arm he had resting on his chair. Sitting bolt upright, in a tense, rigid posture, he asked, "How do you know this?"

The two other cabinet ministers fidgeted morosely in their chairs.

"Because he insinuated, in a mocking manner, that I was gay. I was going to bed my first night there, he had been drinking, and he asked me if I would miss the boys back at the child rearing center now that it was bedtime," replied Sloan.

"We can't have that," said Mr. Gadwinner.

"I won't stand for it," said Mr. Robbuster.

"Sloan," said Mr. Billarts, sternly. "Jack has a meeting with the Internal Prime Minister and his cabinet, meaning us, on Monday morning. He is up for an appointment to be the government's new media spokesperson concerning the prosecution of Family Survival Groups. What you are telling me is very alarming indeed. My colleagues and I could never, would never, work with such a person for reasons which I'm sure you are well aware of."

"I'm sorry Sir. I didn't mean to get Jack in any sort of trouble," said Sloan, trying to hold back a snicker. "Being my host and all, it would be imprudent of me to tattle on him."

"On the contrary my boy, I'm extremely happy that we met you. This puts a whole new light on the situation. You have given me food for thought."

"Gentlemen," said Mr. Billarts, turning to his friends, "I must push off. I need to go home and digest this bitter morsel. I shall be in touch."

"I should be going too," said Mr. Robbuster.

"Me too," said Mr. Gadwinner.

"Excuse me Sir?" said Sloan, to Mr. Billarts. "If Jack finds out I've told you about his personal leanings, it could be detrimental to my career. Or at least, make my day to day life at his home miserably unbearable."

"Pay it no mind young Sir. Your secret is safe with me. You know I could use someone in your position, a young man that might be interested in getting ahead. You could let me know what's going on at the Rank Institute. I don't get out and about as much as I would like. Keep your eyes and ears open. You call me and let me know if you see or hear anything that you think might interest me. Here is my card. You'll find both my office and personal home phone there."

"Be sort of like, a spy," said Sloan, quite taken with himself.

"Let's just say, you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. Nice meeting you boys. Don't forget," Mr. Billarts said to Sloan. "You call me if you hear anything."

Back at the restaurant, Jack and Dorrissa had just received the bill for their meal when a commotion erupted at a table not far from theirs. The manager had been called over and he was in the midst of an argument with the man who was sitting there. He was a short red-headed man, impeccably dressed, but looking rather timid.

"Call the authorities," screamed the manager. "How dare you come here unable to pay for your meal?"

"I've lost my job and haven't been able to find another. I haven't eaten in three days," cried the red-headed man. "Please, I'll wash dishes, I'll clean up. I will do anything, anything. I was hungry and I didn't know what to do," said the poor man, breaking down and sobbing.

"It's too late for that. You should have talked to me earlier. I've had it up to here with you bums," he said, holding his hand above his head. "You won't have to worry about meals in prison."

"Oh Jack, that's terrible," empathized Dorrissa, "the poor man! That manager is absolutely heartless."

Jack hated to see Dorrissa miserable. Especially now, tonight, holidaying away from home and after she had been so happy. "Wait here," he said, rising from the table and walking over to the manager.

"Excuse me," said Jack. "I couldn't help overhearing."

"Bums, bums, I'm tired of bums. Why can't they pick someone else's establishment for a change?"

"He doesn't look like a bum to me."

"If you can't pay for a meal you've ordered, then you're a bum!"

Just then the authorities, two government controllers, entered the premises.

"Now you go. Go where you belong," said the manager, to the man.

"Hold it. Hang on for a second. I'd like to pay this man's bill," replied Jack.

The red-headed man, wiping eyes that matched, looked up at Jack unbelieving.

"You're crazy! Why would you do that?" asked the manager.

"Life has been kind to me. I've got everything and more than a man could ever ask for. This gentleman is no bum. Look at the way he's dressed. I'll wager he's down on his luck that's all. It happens to the best of us. Maybe it will happen to you one day. And maybe someone will appear to help you. Think about that. All I'm asking is to give him a chance. Let me pay his bill and let him go. If you have him arrested you're out the price of the meal. I'll even through in the gratuity. Say...Twenty-five per cent? Add it to my bill."

"You are nuts," said the manager. "But you've got a deal." Turning to the red-headed man, he said, "And you. Get your ass up and out of my establishment. I don't ever want to see your face around here again." Spinning around and walking away he hollered to the controllers, "Everything's okay. It's a false alarm. Everything has been taken care of."

Still looking up at Jack, the man spoke. "Oh thank you. Thank you so much. I promise I'll pay you back. When I'm on my feet again I..."

"Don't mention it, my treat," said Jack, interrupting the man for fear of getting dragged into a long story. "Promise me one thing though. Promise you never ever pull this stunt again. Not anywhere. I wouldn't wish prison on my worst enemy. You don't want to risk it, believe me."

"I promise, I promise," said the man, while making a mental note of Jack's identity card with the intended purpose of paying him back some day. "And thank you. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," said Jack, before walking back to his table.

Outside the restaurant the two controllers were talking.

"So we just missed out on a collar. Maybe we should just arrest him anyway when he comes out. It will save us the trouble of having to do it at a later date."

"Say, I like your thinking," snickered his partner.

"Let's get in the car and we can follow him when he leaves. You know," the controller paused with a chuckle, "jaywalking is still on the books." The men laughed.

A few minutes later, the red-headed man got up and left the restaurant.

"Jack. I heard everything. You're so wonderful. We've been together for so long, sometimes I forget what it was that initially attracted me to you. It was your kindness and compassion for others above all else."

"And all this time I thought it was my good looks and bedside manner."

"I love you so much Jack," said Dorrissa, heart aflutter.

"Shh," shushed Jack, holding an index finger to his pursed lips. "Here comes our bill."

Deciding to save the cash he had, Jack opted to use the wireless remote, voice activated identity scanner. Five minutes later, they were out the door.

"The food was good but the atmosphere sucked," Jack said.

"You're telling me," agreed Dorrissa. "That man was so cruel. I'll never go there again."

The next morning, Jack took Dorrissa out to show her the different suits that he liked. Dorrissa wanted him to buy them all. He laughed. Dorrissa loved it when Jack laughed. His face lit up like a young boy. She told him there wasn't a suit made that didn't look good on him. At the last store a pretty young sales clerk agreed with her. Jack blushed. That was the suit he ended up getting. The rest of their visit was spent in the sheer enjoyment of each others company. They were like a couple of kids, newly in love.

It was early Sunday afternoon when Jack and Dorrissa departed. Later that day, not too long after arriving home, they received a call from Sloan asking if they could meet him at the train station. Jack asked for the estimated time of arrival and said that one of them would be there. They tossed a coin. Dorrissa lost. Being the gentleman that he was, Jack insisted on going. Besides, he had told Dorrissa, she was a better cook and by the time he got back dinner should be ready. A better cook Dorrissa thought? What was there to cook in a world of frozen prepared meals?

After dinner all three of them took refuge in the large, plush seating of the living room for a bit of conversation. Sloan told them an incredibly fabricated story of his eventful weekend. They both listened to this anecdote with a mixture of dignified restraint and refined politeness. The evening progressed and the hour grew late. It was time to call it a night. Sloan retired in erroneous belief that he had duped his hosts. Jack drifted off to sleep with visions of himself standing before the cabinet dressed in his new suit. Hoping all would go well. Dorrissa, however, had other things on her mind. Secret things. Not quite certain how to accomplish them, perhaps the answer would come in her dreams. Little did she know that Jack sheltered his own secret.

Chapter 4

The household awoke the next morning to a violent display of thunder and lightning. The resulting illumination of the sky reminded Jack of the continued up and down flicking of a light switch. A game he used to play with Dorrissa as she undressed in the dark when their partnering was still new. The rain pelted down hard against the window panes. With the noise getting louder, Jack saw that it had now turned to hail. Driving would be treacherous. Why of all days did this have to happen today, he thought?

After breakfast and goodbyes, they headed off to work. Jack dropped Sloan at the institute and told him to contact Harry if he had not heard from him by four. He then continued on to the train station.

When Dorrissa got to work she summoned Gail to her office.

"How was your trip?"

"Most excellent," Dorrissa answered, with a big smile. "The flight was enjoyable, the accommodation first rate, and the weekend was marvelous. Michael, the manager of the cell repository, runs a top notch operation. The workers he has under him are very thorough in the performance of their duties. We could learn some lessons just by watching them. I learned one or two things myself. There are a few changes that I've decided to make around here as a result."

"Such as?" enquired Gail.

"First and foremost will be the matching of all files regarding their compatibility with each other, documented on paper and submitted to me for review. No actual creation of samples shall take place until I have examined them. I shall make any changes to the selection process that I deem necessary before returning them and allowing their creation to take place."

"Isn't that a bit unorthodox?" questioned Gail. "With you scrutinizing our birthing lab workers to such an extent, it will inevitably result in a slowdown of production. After all," reasoned Gail, "a mistake of this magnitude has never happened before."

"I mean to keep it that way!" said Dorrissa. "I refuse to be put in a position of having to second-guess my staff's judgment. Although my trip to the repository was fruitful, I don't relish the thought of having to do it again any time soon. It's true, I agree, production may initially suffer as a result but I stand by my decision."

"You said a few changes?"

"That's correct. From now on all lab workers shall take breaks at the same time. Mistakes can happen more easily when people are on their own. All samples and matching files will now be stored at different locations within the birthing lab, alphabetically by name and then numerically by donor year. Different groups of workers will be stationed in each area. These workers shall be cross-trained. They will work one week in files, the next week in creation. Under no circumstances will files be allowed to enter the creation area. Only the paperwork of approved matches authorized and signed by me, or you in my absence, shall be forwarded to the creation area."

"Anything else?" asked Gail, with a hint of sarcasm.

"Do you have a problem with this?" exclaimed Dorrissa.

"No," answered Gail, having been put in her place.

"Good. Notify the morning shift that I want to have a meeting with the entire staff in their lunchroom at eleven-fifteen, before they leave for home and as soon as the afternoon shift arrives. If I sound a bit testy it's only because I've put a great deal of effort into this. I'm not upset with you Gail. I appreciate all the help that you give me. You're my greatest asset. None of us like change. We all can get set in our ways. But sometimes change is imperative."

"I understand," said Gail.

Just as Gail was turning to leave, Dorrissa said, "Oh. The shipment I organized from the repository is due in this morning. Please let me know the minute it arrives."

That same morning, at the Rank Institute, Jack's phone rang. Becka answered.

"Hello," she said. "Rank Institute, arbitration division. May I help you?"

"Yes," said the voice on the other line. "I'm looking for the work location of Jack 1145A12."

"This is his office. To whom am I speaking?"

"My name is Clara 268M26. I'm phoning from morgue number two, city of Ottawa. I hate to be the bearer of bad news but we have a gentleman here..."

"NO...NO...," screamed Becka, out loud. Jack had gone to Ottawa. She had tried to reach him at his home last Friday concerning an appointment for this week but there was no answer. Calling Dorrissa's office to enquire of his whereabouts, Gail told her of their shared excursion. Something had happened and now Jack was dead. Why hadn't Dorrissa called?

"Hello? ...Hello?...Is anyone there?...Hello?" enquired the voice on the other end of the line.

"He's not dead, Jack's not dead, he can't be," said Becka, choking back tears.

"Of course not," said Clara. "It's not Jack I'm calling about. We have access to Jack's file and he looks nothing like this other gentleman. Not even close."

"Wha, What?" said Becka, in a confused stupor.

"A man was brought into the morgue on the weekend with no identification card. He had a piece of paper in his pocket with the name Jack 1145A12 written down. There is no sign of trauma anywhere on the body. Death must have occurred from natural causes. We've been trying to reach Jack all weekend to see if he knows the answer to this man's identity. I take it by your reaction he's not there?"

"No. Thank Government he's alright. He's at a meeting this morning. I'm not sure when to expect him back."

"Well listen," said Clara, and she went on to describe the dead man. She told Becka to inform Jack and he could call the morgue if he knew the man's identity. Otherwise, he was not to worry about it. If they did not hear back from anyone, the man would go down as a John Doe. Clara thanked Becka for her time, and said that she was sorry to have startled her so, before hanging up. Strange that the man would have Jack's name on him though, Becka thought. Whatever, she concluded. Jack would solve the mystery when he got back. She was just so glad that the dead man wasn't him.

Early in the morning, before the members of cabinet were to interview Jack, John Billarts, Peter Robbuster and Berry Gadwinner marched into the office of the Internal Prime Minister, the Honorable Q. Raymond Trandlore.

"Ray, we've got a problem," said John.

"Do we? Perhaps you gentlemen better sit down and tell me about it," replied Mr. Trandlore.

"It's regarding Jack, the Crehu from the Rank Institute, who we have a meeting with at ten o'clock this morning. I have received information that he is extremely homophobic. That he despises homosexuals."

"Where did this information come from?"

"It came from a reliable source."

"May I have the name of this reliable source?"

"I promised not to divulge it. But I assure you the person is indeed reliable," stated Mr. Billarts.

"Jack was highly recommended to me by Garry Taftling, our National Security Advisor. He did a thorough, painstaking search on the man right down to the minuteness of details. The report I received contained no mention of anti-homosexuality. If this were the case, evidence of this nature would have shown up. You're asking me to take the word of some unidentified source who claims this man's character is unworthy."

"Sir," said Berry Gadwinner, "if this man proves to be homophobic, he could in time show favorable leanings towards Family Survival Groups. He could undermine our whole system of prosecution concerning these groups. If the man is homophobic, the man is dangerous."

The three ministers sitting in the Prime Minister's office believed Ray Trandlore would be on their side. Although unpartnered, and a solitary man who kept his sexual preferences well hidden from peering eyes, Ray was widely thought to be gay. Many people joked, behind his back of course, that the initial Q for his first name stood for queer. Few of them knew however, that his mother had named him Quentin Raymond Trandlore. He hated that name. He hated his mother for choosing it. When he was a young boy, other kids would tease him. They would taunt him by saying:

Quentin, went in, ate from a trash tin.

Committed a sin, got buggered by kin.

He went to bed in a dustbin.

"Gentlemen, I thank you for coming and seeing me," said the Prime Minister. "I shall take what you have told me under advisement. It will soon be ten o'clock and I see no reason to postpone the interview. I will however, be adding a few questions to my list I can guarantee you that. If there is a chink in this Crehus armor I shall find it. Thank you for coming. I'll see you all shortly."

The men filed out of the Prime Minister's office, 'tails between their legs'.

"What did you make of that?" asked Peter Robbuster.

"I wouldn't read too much into it," replied Mr. Billarts. "It's just his way."

"Intentionally vague if you ask me," said Mr. Gadwinner.

"The man's an ass, a pompous ass," said Mr. Robbuster, in retort.

"I'd be careful if I were you Petey boy," said John. "The Prime Minister has ears everywhere."

At precisely ten o'clock, Jack was ushered into a mid-sized room that adjoined the council chambers. The entire cabinet was seated before him. Although he had been inside the Parliament Buildings many times before, this was his first official visit. The only minister he had met previous to this had been Leonard Jamling, the Justice Minister. The Rank Institute, being part of the Justice Minister's portfolio, Jack had met Leonard there before and they were on congenial terms.

The Peoples Party had originally been formed by the merger of two fragmented political parties with the intention of ousting the sitting government who were re-elected time after time because of their majority, despite having scandal after scandal. All prior attempts at forming a coalition had always failed. This was because the leaders of both parties each wanted to be the leader of the new party. A deal was struck between them. Instead of having just one sitting Prime Minister, the new party would have two.

The Internal Prime Minister would be responsible for all affairs within the country's borders. The External Prime Minister would deal with all issues involving other countries and the rest of the world. Half-way through their mandate the Prime Ministers would switch portfolios. After coming to power as the new Peoples Government, and before that half-way point had been reached, the Internal Prime Minister shrewdly declared the War Measures Act, much to the consternation of the External Prime Minister. It was now sixty years later.

The Internal Prime Minister originally elected to the Peoples Government was Mr. Philip Jefferts. He won the initial posting with the flip of a coin over his running mate, who then went on to become the External Prime Minister. With the introduction of the War Measures Act and the suspension of elections, the Internal Prime Minister held the power and authority to place people of his choosing into cabinet positions. If they performed badly, or if they retired, he alone would replace them.

Before Mr. Jefferts retired, he appointed Mr. Q. Raymond Trandlore to the position of Internal Prime Minister. He also appointed Mr. Steven Laurence as External Prime Minister and a few of the existing cabinet ministers as well. The remaining cabinet ministers, who included two Crehus, had been appointed by Mr. Trandlore.

Mr. Steven Laurence, the present External Prime Minister, had lobbied within his caucus for an end to the War Measures Act so he could become the Internal Prime Minister. Mr. Q. Raymond Trandlore, with his power and political contacts, had been continually successful in maintaining his position. Because of this, there was much animosity between the two men although it was kept well hidden from public view.

Mr. Laurence resolved to bide his time and wait for Mr. Trandlore to make a mistake; a mistake big enough that would diminish his popularity and bring about an end to his overbearing, autocratic control of the government and of the country.

Mr. Trandlore introduced the members of his cabinet to Jack. They included:

Mr. John Billarts --- Minister of National Defense.

Mr. Peter Robbuster --- Minister of Transportation.

Mr. Berry Gadwinner --- Minister of Fisheries and Natural Resources.

Mr. Ellis Evanscan --- Minister of Farm Centers and Buildings.

Mr. Leonard Jamling --- Minister of Justice.

Mr. Parker Wiltcoxen --- Minister of Health, Welfare and Employment.

Mr. Wayne Turnmore --- Minister of Tax and Revenue.

Thatcher 114A+++5 --- Minister of Creation.

Jeff 1267A+++8 --- Minister of Immigration and Habitation.

Mr. Steven Laurence --- External Prime Minister.

And himself

Mr. Q. Raymond Trandlore --- Internal Prime Minister.

There were a total of nine cabinet ministers, seven natural born humans and two Crehus, not including Steven and himself who were also natural born.

"Jack. The reason you are here before us today is relatively simple. You caught our eye last week with your appearance on the media screen in relation to Family Survival Groups and this government's decision to openly expose them to the public," said Mr. Trandlore. "For quite some time, these groups have been operating in underground gatherings to promote the return of families into society. Clear evidence has shown that the creation and the raising of children by the government has not only been highly beneficial to our country but has indeed surpassed our grandest expectations. We have tried to be fair and lenient with these groups in the past. Our aim was to show them the error of their ways with the intent of reforming them to become, once again, productive citizens of our country.

"Unfortunately, we were not able to succeed in this undertaking. As of late, more and more of these groups have been forming. They are like a scourge, a cancer upon society and they must be cut out! This government shall instigate a zero tolerance policy against them. A special task force shall be created to roust them from their subterranean dungeons of ill repute. We shall spare no expense to nip them in the bud, before they can grow and spread their vile and sinister propaganda.

"In order to halt the proliferation of these groups, they will now be shown on the National Crime Channel seen coast to coast. Recent government policy had been public seclusion of Survival Group arrests and subsequent convictions with the hope of retarding their expansion within the general population. This did not work and our options have been played out.

"This government needs someone to represent us and our policies. We need a go-between. A person that is highly photogenic and articulate to be our spokesperson on the media screen. We need someone who will show no commiseration to these people whatsoever. The person who deploys the expended effort needed in the execution of these duties performs a great and valuable service to their country. We were thinking that you Jack, may be such a person. The one we are looking for to take up the reins in the protection of society."

Mr. Trandlore had stopped speaking. All eyes were on Jack. The Prime Minister's oration had left Jack momentarily dumbfounded, but he quickly realized they were all waiting for him to reply.

"I'm quite honored that all of you feel I might be such a person. I'm also embarrassingly flattered. I have a few questions that I need to ask though before I can come to any decision," said Jack, not quite knowing how he had been able to get any words out.

"That's understandable," said Mr. Trandlore. "We also have questions to ask. Not everyone here believes you are the right person for the job. This is why we are here today. To determine whether or not you are. Let me begin by saying that I had our National Security Advisor, Garry Taftling, undertake a comprehensive investigation on our behalf.

"He left no stone unturned, no door unopened, in his background check on your life. Thankfully no skeletons were discovered in your closet that could come back to haunt us. Your partner was also investigated. Both of you have been found to be of impeccable and illustrious character. With that out of the way, this cabinet shall go ahead and ask their questions first. When completed, we shall hold a vote in your absence to approve or deny your appointment to this position.

"After a decision has been made, you will be brought back before us to render our judgment. If approved by the majority, you may at that time ask us questions to relieve any uncertainties that you harbor. Are you ready for us to begin?"

"Yes," said Jack.

"Gentlemen, you may now ask your questions," said Mr. Trandlore.

"Jack," said Mr. Jamling. "What are your personal feelings about Family Survival Groups and why do you feel you are the right person for the job?"

"I believe them to be archaic and dangerous. They must be abolished before they have a chance to fester and permeate the minds of the people. By representing the government on the National Crime Channel, I would strongly emphasize the need for their eradication," vowed Jack.

"What is your position on Artic imprisonment camps and the banishing of people to these camps if caught in active involvement in these groups?" asked Mr. Wiltcoxen.

"Artic imprisonment camps serve a very useful and valuable purpose in our society. They appease the people who are against outright capital punishment, yet protect us all by placing the criminals at such a distant proximity from the general population. A person sent there deserves to be sent there. Everyone knows what the ramifications will be if caught committing a crime and bad personal judgment can not be considered an excuse. Society must be protected at all costs."

"Tell me Jack," asked Mr. Robbuster. "This appointment would involve traveling to all parts of the country at any given hour. You are, I believe, partnered in a successful relationship. How will all this travel affect that relationship?"

"That is one aspect I am leery of," said Jack. "My partner Dorrissa and I have discussed this matter and it has proven to be a sore point with us." He watched the cabinet members startled reactions to his answer. Realizing what he had just said, Jack, grasping for damage control, was quick to clarify what might be construed as overt devotion to each other. "Neither of us minds being apart for extended periods. But we have recently become host to a new Crehu in our home and his attitude and mannerisms leave much to be desired. If I was offered this position, by your good graces, I would request that he be transferred to a new host home before the appointment commenced."

"Do you not believe it to be advantageous to have an extra person in a household in case of emergencies or to ward off loneliness," asked Mr. Robbuster.

"Perhaps with a different Crehu it would be, just not this one. His irritating personality and dispassionate nature cause widespread discomfort within our own home."

"What is the name of this Crehu?" asked Mr. Billarts.

"Sloan 2168T36."

"Perhaps because he is a male you are afraid to leave your partner alone with him for fear of secret intimacy resulting while you are away," said Mr. Gadwinner.

Jack laughed in rollicking merriment at the thought of such a ludicrous question.

"A somewhat amusing frolic seems to have taken hold of you. Perhaps you can let us in on the joke," suggested Mr. Billarts.

"I'm sorry I laughed," said Jack, regaining his composure. "You must have misinterpreted me. Dorrissa, under no circumstance holds any ardent feelings towards Sloan whatsoever."

"How long has Sloan lived in your household?" asked Mr. Billarts.

"He's been there just over a week."

"Only a week you say? That's hardly long enough to get to know a person."

"Long enough for us," replied Jack.

"And this person Sloan," continued Mr. Billarts, now on a roll. "What would his sexual preference be in your opinion?"

"I have no idea. That is not the point. It makes no difference one way or the other."

"So am I to take it, that if Sloan revealed tendencies towards homosexuality this would not bother you?"

"Not in the least, provided of course they were not directed towards me."

"Then in your opinion you are not homophobic?"

"That's correct. A person's sexual inclination is their own business. I judge people strictly on their merits and virtues. Where would you get the idea that I'm homophobic?"

"I never said you were," replied Mr. Billarts. "I merely wanted to establish the fact that you either are or are not. It is generally known that members of Family Survival Groups are anti homosexual and it would not do to have a government spokesperson side with any of their views."

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," interjected Mr. Trandlore, "may I remind you that we are not here to conduct a witch-hunt. We are here to see if Jack fits the bill. This man is not on trial and I refuse to allow this interrogation to resemble one. Jack has been asked some valid questions and has answered them admirably so far. It is time to move on to another subject. Are there any further questions?"

"Yes. I have one," said Thatcher 114A+++5. "What are your views concerning creation, as opposed to natural childbirth?"

"Right before you stands a stalwart specimen of government creation. What more could you ask for?" answered Jack, flashing an irradiating, roguish smile.

A few men in the cabinet, including both Prime Ministers, chuckled in mild amusement.

"I have a question for you Jack," said Mr. Laurence. "If you were the Prime Minister what, if any, policy changes would you make in running the country?"

Ah, now there is an interesting question thought Mr. Trandlore as he leaned forward on his elbows, all ears, to listen to Jack's reply.

Oh no. Here it is, thought Jack, a trick question. I'd better tread lightly around this one.

"In all honesty, a question of that magnitude would require a great deal of deliberation in order to give an answer that is not ambiguous. I don't consider myself to be a politically ambitious person which I believe is a quality needed to obtain the highest office in the land. I can say, from personal experience, that I have found our country to be run quite efficiently. When traveling outside its borders, I have always looked forward to my return. In my opinion this is the greatest country in the world."

Jack almost choked on those last words. He had told them what they wanted to hear, not what he truly believed. He and Dorrissa had discussed the proper conduct that would be required for a cabinet interview the night before. It was imperative for them to like him at any cost.

He didn't want the job. The fame and prestige that would certainly follow, with national exposure on the media screen, was of no importance to him. All he wanted was Dorrissa. The thought of ever losing her was unbearable. That could happen only with a rank change. He had to make sure not to jeopardize his rank in any way, even if it meant having to accept the appointment. He had to remain focused on the overall plan, his and Dorrissa's plan, for the future. It was still in his grasp to make it a reality.

"Are there any more questions?" Jack heard Mr. Trandlore say.

The shaking of heads and a few spoken no's, were the only responses.

"And you Jack? Have all your concerns been answered?"

"Other than a new placement for Sloan, I was wondering where I would be situated; a base of operations more or less, if I was to receive the appointment."

"I see no reason to remove you from the Rank Institute. This new appointment, whoever receives it, would be under the jurisdiction of Mr. Jamling our Justice Minister. The spokesperson would report directly to him. Depending on the frequency of travel, if that person were you Jack, the duties which include you sitting on the Rank Review Board would remain the same.

Your rank however would be increased from A to A+. Your salary would also be increased by an additional fifty thousand dollars a year."

"Fifty thousand dollars?" remarked Jack, astounded.

"That's correct. It also comes with a reasonably adequate expense account for travel purposes."

"Wow!" exclaimed Jack.

"Wow indeed," said Mr. Trandlore. "Any other questions Jack?"

"I can't think of any at the moment."

"Then if you would be so kind as to venture into the adjoining room from whence you came, we may begin deliberation on this matter before us."

Jack left the room to patiently await the outcome of their verdict. He didn't want to be apart from Dorrissa. On the other hand thinking of what an extra fifty thousand dollars a year could provide for them, especially in terms of saving for their retirement, Jack was tortured with inner torment. What to do, what to do? But on reflection it didn't matter what he thought. It wasn't his decision. It would be up to the cabinet ministers next door. Or more likely the Prime Minister himself. Jack could see he called the shots. If he wanted Jack in this position, Jack would be in this position. He could do nothing but accept with gratitude and enthusiasm.

The cabinet discourse on the pros and cons of Jack's appointment was at times heated and argumentative. The three openly gay ministers, Mr. Billarts, Mr. Robbuster and Mr. Gadwinner were unyielding in their antipathy to Jack. Mr. Billarts maintained he would not hold still and be suckered into any fatuous, despotic, authoritive agreement. At which point Mr. Trandlore directed a piercing, concentrated stare, defiant in its hostility, towards him. It was enough of a stare to cause Mr. Billarts to quake in his chair, surrendering his bluff. In the end, with all votes taken, Jack had received a majority. Neither unanimous and certainly not by acclamation. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that the Internal Prime Minister had gotten his way, as usual. Jeff was sent to fetch Jack from his sequestered room.

"Take a seat Jack," said Mr. Trandlore.

Sitting down, he wondered what the result of their deliberation was. With his attention completely riveted on the Prime Minister, he watched as Mr. Trandlore broke out into a broad smile.

"Congratulations Jack, it's official. You are now our new media spokesperson."

"I'm," hesitated Jack, searching for the right word, "honored," he finished, with mixed feelings. "I would like to thank you all for putting your trust in me. I shall do my best to live up to it." He hoped they didn't see that he was uncertain in his acceptance.

"Gentlemen," said Mr. Trandlore. "I know that you are all anxious to leave. It's well past the lunch hour and you all must be hungry. Even for the cafeteria food," he joked. "Please go ahead. Congratulate Jack on the way out if you will. I will be along in due course. First I wish to have a private chat with Jack."

On their departure, Thatcher, Minister of Creation, was the only person who shook Jack's hand that did not vote for him. It was done begrudgingly even though Thatcher had met Jack's partner Dorrissa on previous occasions and believed her to be a solid performer and a great asset to his ministry. Mr. Laurence, the External Prime Minister, seemed the most sincere, Jack believed. He had expressed his heartfelt congratulations along with a most friendly smile. At last he was alone with the Internal Prime Minister.

"Jack, my boy, I hope you're looking forward to this job. I know I'm interested in seeing how you do. Glad to have you aboard. It's a grand opportunity for you," said the Prime Minister, as he paused while seemingly looking for the right words to say. "Do you know I'll be entering my seventy-sixth year next year? I guess reaching an age of that duration is pretty desirable by anyone's standards. I only wish I knew where all those years went.

"I never had any siblings other than an older brother. Our father deserted us shortly after I was born. I don't even think my parents were married. That would have made me a bastard by the standard's of society back then. It's probably so. That is what people have called me most of my life. I spent the majority of my childhood growing up fighting. I blamed my mother for that. I used to say I hated her, but on reflection I know that wasn't true.

"When I was only eight my brother, who was five years my senior, was killed in a gang fight. The year was twenty eighty-two. I remember that sorrowful moment as clear as a bell. Just like it was yesterday. Gangs of kids roamed the streets back then. Every neighborhood had a different gang. Their neighborhood was their turf. If a gang from a different neighborhood was caught on your turf, an all-out, violent fight would erupt. Turf warfare they used to call it.

"If you didn't belong to a gang you had no protection. There were tricycle gangs, bicycle gangs and motorcycle gangs. You would work your way up, eventually traveling around by cars."

"Tricycle gangs?" said Jack incredulously.

"Definitely," answered Mr. Trandlore. "Shit, I joined my first gang when I was six. It was a different life back then Jack. Much more than you could ever imagine. Not a lot of people were having kids and the majority who did couldn't be bothered with them. They taught their children nothing. They would leave them to fend for themselves."

"And your mother?" asked Jack.

"My mother?" repeated Mr. Trandlore.

"She did her best I suppose, being alone and all. Trying to bring up two young boys swamped in a sea of violence and depravity was no easy task."

Then, all of a sudden, Mr. Trandlore laughed.

"She had this old thing that played music. I don't remember what it was called. One of the songs she would play sometimes was a funny song. About some boy whose father named him Sue, which of course is a girl's name. All the boys would pick fights with him because of his name.

"My mother told me that she knew my father would never hang around and that is why she named me what she did. So I would grow up strong. Like the kid in that song. It's funny. I had completely forgotten about that. Now I can almost hear it word for word. I wish I had that song if only to listen to it one more time.

"Anyway, that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about. I got sidetracked. I was saying my brother got killed. I quit the gang I was in then because my mother was heartbroken and terribly afraid of what would happen to me if I continued along the same path. It wasn't easy not being affiliated with a gang growing up. Government Knows, there were many more fights at the beginning that I would become embroiled in. But as I grew, I learned the power of negotiation. I was soon adept at talking myself out of them.

"Right about the same time the government knew it had a serious, out of control, problem on their hands. It spent hundreds of thousands of dollars enrolling these kids in contact sports. Each neighborhood had its own teams depending upon the sport. They would face off against each other on a rotating basis. Soccer, rugby, football, lacrosse, and hockey were a few of them. It never worked out though. The government was hoping that a person's natural aggression could be played out on the sports field. Unfortunately, most preferred to remain in gangs and play it out on their turf. An independent study was undertaken to determine the extent of the problem. The findings were not pleasant. The study concluded that the vast majority of children were environmentally damaged.

"They were products of broken homes or homes where parents never taught them morals or values. Worthless parents of low intelligence were begetting children of similar likeness. More educated, responsible people were refraining from having children. Not wishing to bring life into the wretched quagmire they deemed to be the world. This is the real reason why the government made its decision to take over the responsibility of raising children.

"The future step of actual creation was just a natural progression of that decision. The government had to have children born of the highest possible gene pool available. If the brightest and the best of our population were not having children, the government would have to do it for them. Do you understand what I'm saying Jack?"

"Yes, I believe so. But why did the government choose sterilization?"

"That was a mistake," said Mr. Trandlore. "That is why the Peoples Party was formed and the previous government that initiated it was annihilated at the polls."

"But sterilization is still being used."

"That is true Jack and it is continued mainly for two reasons. The first being, if our current population of sterilized people all of a sudden saw natural childbirth taking place, feelings of jealousy and resentment would sweep this nation as wildfires had previously swept through our once great forests. The second justification is that undesirable matches could once again result in dysfunctional children being born thus undermining this government's goal of promoting a better, more peaceful, society."

"So that's why you haven't put an end to the War Measures Act. If a national election saw a different political party come to power it could end everything your government has worked to achieve," blurted out Jack.

The Prime Minister was uncontrollably angered by Jack's astute observation.

"Why you little fuck," he raged. "How dare you! Insinuate that this government does not operate in regard to the highest intentions for the welfare of the people of this nation. You impressed me Jack when I first saw you on the media screen. You reminded me of myself when I was younger. I've told you much more than I planned to, probably too much. I was trying to stress the fact of the danger that Family Survival Groups represent to our society. Trying to allow you to see them for what they are, a menace that must be destroyed. Now I want to know, this very second, are we in complete agreement on this subject or not?"

"Yes we are," said Jack, quickly adding, "I apologize. I didn't mean to make you upset. It was not my intention to criticize your government. I believe you are doing an excellent job under the circumstances."

"Perhaps I misread your meaning," said Mr. Trandlore, at last simmering down. "If that is the case forgive my outburst. It's important we share the same viewpoint and work together on this."

"I agree wholeheartedly," said Jack.

After a brief pause and a somewhat skeptical look, the Prime Minister continued, "Well then. I must say that this little talk has worked up quite an appetite. Providing there is still food left in the cafeteria, would you like to join me for a late bite?" asked Mr. Trandlore.

"No thank you Sir. I don't usually eat lunch and I am not that hungry. I should really be getting back to the office and clear up a few outstanding files."

"Very well then but before you go Jack, I consider this conversation we had strictly confidential. Do you know what I mean?"

"I believe so."

"You had better believe so. If you tell anyone, anyone at all, it means you can't be trusted with a secret. And if you can't be trusted," he paused once more, "neither can the person you tell it to. It will spread like a disease and find its way back to me. If that ever happens you will rue the day you were ever created. You couldn't even begin to imagine the wrath that I would inflict upon you. So we understand each other then?" asked the Prime Minister.

"Very much so," replied Jack, holding back a shudder. "You needn't worry. I shall cause you no concern."

"I'm counting on it. Good day Jack. I'll talk to you soon."

"Goodbye Sir, and thank you again."

Jack left the building and stepped out into the cool, crisp air. He took in a deep breath and held it in his lungs. If I ever come back here again it will be too soon, he thought. Walking over to the train station he had an afterthought and darted into a nearby phone booth. Looking through the directory, Jack keyed in the number. He held the directory in front of his face so as to obscure his view from the monitor.

"Hello. This is Shelly. I'm not in right now. Please leave a message after the beep and I will get back to you."

Jack hung up the phone. She must be alright he reasoned. Perhaps she's working at the morgue. If anything had happened to Shelly her space would have been cleared out by now and a new tenant would have been installed in her residence. There would be no answering machine to leave messages. He felt relieved as he looked at his watch while boarding the train. He should be back at the office by four. All the way there Jack couldn't stop thinking of his conversation with Mr. Trandlore. The Prime Minister had seemed so touching in the portrayal of his youth. Yet when he had questioned him about the War Measures Act the Prime Minister had turned quite vindictive. Jack realized that he must always remain cautious in his dealings with Mr. Trandlore for he could either be a friendly ally or a dangerous foe. It certainly would not be good to have him as the latter.

The intercom buzzer sounded in Dorrissa's office.

"The afternoon shift has arrived. I have all the workers congregated just as you had asked," reported Gail.

"Thank you Gail. What about the samples from the cell repository?"

"They haven't arrived yet."

"I see. I'll be down in a few minutes."

Here it was eleven fifteen and still no samples, Dorrissa thought. Her shipment should have left Ottawa on the five a.m. transport. First things first she reckoned, and left the office to make her way down to the lunch room.

On arrival, Dorrissa explained to her staff the new procedures they were to follow, effective immediately. If she were unavailable, for any reason, the job of scrutinizing the sample matches for their suitability would fall to Gail. Vinny, who had previously been demoted from morning supervisor, asked who would be responsible for creation in the event of both her and Gail being absent. Dorrissa replied if that were the case staff needed to busy themselves with routine housekeeping and a general sprucing up of the area until one of them returned. Cliff, who was the birthing lab afternoon supervisor, asked about the production delays that might entail because of this new policy.

Dorrissa said that was of no concern to them. She headed the department and she would assume full responsibility. It was much more important, she explained, that their work was done correctly. She would not stand for a repeat of last week's ineptness. Dorrissa made sure that she had made her point perfectly clear before she dismissed the morning shift and allowed them to go home.

The rest of the afternoon passed ever so slowly. Dorrissa glanced at the clock, again...And again...And again. She had been studying it all afternoon in anticipation of her cell sample delivery. Why hadn't they come yet? The day would soon be ending. And why hadn't Jack called to tell her the news? His interview had to be over by now. She had been tempted to phone his office earlier but did not want to seem overly anxious just in case he wasn't there and Becka answered. It was now five p.m. and there still had been no delivery.

"Aren't you going home?" Gail asked Dorrissa.

"No. I'm going to stay a little longer. I have a few things that need taking care of."

"Are you still waiting for the cell samples to be delivered?"

"No. I expect they will not arrive until tomorrow," Dorrissa said, with an unconcerned, cool pretense.

Gail could take a hint. "See you tomorrow then."

"Goodnight Gail," said Dorrissa.

After waiting a few extra minutes, until Gail had departed, Dorrissa phoned the sorting area and asked to speak to Ted, the recently promoted, new afternoon files supervisor. "Ted, this is Dorrissa. I'm working late tonight in my office getting a few things sorted out. I should be here for a while yet. I'm expecting a late shipment of cell samples from the Eastern Cell Repository that are due to arrive at any moment. Please notify me when they get here."

"You got it Superintendent," said Ted.

"One more thing," said Dorrissa. "When was the last time our reserve generator was checked out?"

"I'm not sure," replied Ted. "I've only been supervisor for a week."

"I know that," said Dorrissa, trying hard not to sound testy. "I'd like you to get someone to check it out right away. You know how helpless we would be to sustain our cell samples in the event of a power disruption."

"I thought the building has a backup power generation system?

"It does. But we need to be sure our own is working as a precautionary measure just in case. Let me know as soon as the check has been completed."

Dorrissa hung up the phone. It was imperative that she stay. Nothing must remain to chance if it meant the possibility of something erroneous happening to her and Jack's cell samples. It was now five-thirty. She resisted the temptation to call the cell repository not wanting to arouse any further attention to her plight. Rachel had promised an early Monday morning departure. Michael had pretty much guaranteed her a Monday delivery also. Where were her samples? And why hadn't Jack called her?

Jack got back to the office at half past four. Becka greeted him with an exhilarated smile.

"You gave me quite a shock this morning," said Becka.

"That's surprising," Jack replied, smiling back at her, "considering I wasn't here."

"I thought you were dead," said Becka.

"What?" questioned Jack, astonished, yet puzzled.

"I got a phone call this morning from a person who works for a morgue in Ottawa."

Could that be Shelly? Could she have been transferred? Jack wondered.

"A woman there said they had a man's body come in on the weekend. I knew you had been in Ottawa for the weekend after talking to Dorrissa's assistant on Friday and I guess I sort of jumped to the conclusion that it was you."

"Did the woman give her name?"

"She said it was Clara."

"I don't know any Clara," said Jack, very relieved that it was not Shelly trying to get in touch with him at his office.

"No. That's not why she called. She said the man had a piece of paper in his pocket with your name on it. He did not have an identity card and she wondered if you might know him. If not, she said don't worry about it. He would just be cremated as a John Doe. She left a call-back number for the morgue if you know anything."

"That's got me baffled. I don't know anyone in Ottawa. It's probably just some nut case."

"How did the interview go?" asked Becka, apprehensively awaiting the answer.

"I got the appointment," said Jack sternly, in order to tease Becka and see what her reaction would be.

Becka's bottom lip began to quiver ever so slightly, her eyes fright-filled and worried.

"Relax," said Jack playfully. "I'll be working out of here on my normal job when not on assignment. You'll still be my secretary so I guess it's your misfortune to be stuck with me."

"Oh you!" exclaimed Becka, pretending to be upset but in fact was quite the opposite.

"I've got to phone Dorrissa and tell her the news. She didn't call here looking for me did she?"

"No."

"Okay then, I'd better call her," said Jack, turning to go into his office.

"Oh Jack," Becka called.

He turned to face her.

"I'm really glad you're not dead. Deep down inside of me I just knew it couldn't be you."

"Thanks Becka, I'm really glad I'm not dead too," Jack laughed, and shook his head from side to side in mild amusement for her concern. He turned back around and proceeded to his office.

"I knew for sure when the lady said the dead man had bright red hair."

Jack froze in his tracks. His body tense, he turned back around. "Red hair?" he asked, with a look of genuine shock on his face.

"Yes. Bright red hair, she had said, almost orange. Do you know him?" asked Becka.

Recovering somewhat, Jack replied, "No. It's just unusual that's all. You don't see too many people with red hair anymore."

"Other than me?" laughed Becka.

"I mean bright red hair."

"I know. That's how I knew it wasn't you."

"Hmm, I must go phone Dorrissa. She'll be wondering what happened to me."

Jack went into his office and closed the door. He picked up the phone to call Dorrissa and looked at his watch. It was almost five. She's probably on the way out the door he thought. She'll be home in twenty minutes. I'll talk to her then. He replaced the phone and rubbed the bottom of his neck using his fingers to massage the muscles back and forth. Then, picking up the phone again, he keyed in a number.

"Dr. Foxing's office. Ava speaking, may I help you?"

"Hello Ava. I'd like to make an appointment with the doctor."

"Why hello Jack," said Ava, Dr. Foxing's nurse/receptionist. "Long time no see. What seems to be the problem?"

"I've...ah...I've been having reoccurring headaches accompanied by stiff neck pain. I was wondering how long it would take before I could see the doctor."

"Well that doesn't sound too good. How about coming in on Wednesday at one p.m.?"

"That will do fine, thanks."

"No problem. We'll see you then," said Ava.

"You mean you're welcome," said Jack.

"What?" asked Ava.

"When someone says thank you, the proper response is, you're welcome," said Jack.

"Thank you," said Ava.

"You're welcome."

Jack hung up the phone and left to pick up Sloan, bidding goodnight to Becka who was just about ready to leave also.

"What took ya?" asked Sloan.

"I had a few odds and ends to take care of."

"How did the interview go?" questioned Sloan, in a guileful, smart-aleck manner.

"It went fine. I got the job," said Jack gloating. Having wiped the smile from Sloan's face he added sarcastically, "What, no cheering section?"

"I...um...ah...Congratulations," said Sloan, enviously.

"You looked surprised," countered Jack.

"I...ah...Guess I never thought I'd be living with a media star as a host."

Not for long, Jack thought to himself. Not for long.

When they arrived home Dorrissa's car was nowhere to be seen. She almost always got home earlier and should have been there to greet him. Something was wrong. It was almost six. Jack let Sloan into the house and went to the phone to call her office. Dorrissa, by now at her wits end waiting for her promised delivery, answered the phone.

"What are you doing? Why are you still at work?" asked Jack.

"Something came up. There is a late shipment of cells that hasn't arrived. I need to be here when it does," said Dorrissa.

"That's crazy. There have been other late shipments before. This isn't the first time. Your staff can handle it. Put your coat on and get out of there."

"Why didn't you phone me earlier? What happened at the interview?"

"I got the appointment. I have lots to tell you but not over the phone. I'm not alone. Anyway, I want to tell you in person. Get your coat on and come home."

Just then there was a knock on Dorrissa's door. It was Ted.

"Excuse me Superintendent. That shipment you've been waiting for has just come in."

"Great. Don't touch anything, I'll be right there."

"Sorry Jack I have to go. The shipment just got here."

"The shipment, the shipment," shouted Jack, "forget about the shipment."

"Jack. I worked on this sample selection myself. I have to make sure that what the repository sent is correct. When you start a project don't you follow through on it?" Not waiting for an answer Dorrissa continued, "I'll be home as soon as I can. I promise I'll make it up to you. You can tell me everything that happened then. Gotta' go now Jack. Bye."

Dorrissa quickly hung up the phone and left for the receiving area. Jack saw her vanish from the screen. Standing there in disbelief, he held the phone and listened to the dial tone as it hummed in his ear.

Dorrissa reached the receiving area and grabbed the paperwork from Ted's hand saying, "I'll take that. We have to crosscheck these samples with their files and we need to do it right away. They have been in transit far too long. Let me see if everything here looks in order." Dorrissa looked at the count. There were exactly one hundred and eighteen. Perfect she thought. Now for the moment I've been waiting for. She hurriedly scanned the names of the samples. Betty 1230T12, Jacqueline 158T12, Ken 1124T12, and David 129T12. They were all there.

"Okay," said Dorrissa, "the paperwork looks correct. Now we have to crosscheck the files with the actual samples to make sure everything is here. The cell samples are to be placed alphabetically and numerically in order into the storage unit. The files must be stored exactly the same way in the filing cabinets. We shall put away the samples first. Let's get to it people, I want to go home tonight."

When all the cell samples had been properly stored, Dorrissa seized a handful of files that she said needed to be checked further and took them to her office. She told Ted the rest could be filed away. Back at her office, Dorrissa removed the four files that represented her and Jack's cell samples and looked them over carefully. Once she was satisfied with the contents, she locked them in her bottom desk drawer. Only she had a key. They would be secure there until the time came for them to be removed and matched up with their cell samples. Without these files, none of her staff could touch their corresponding samples, leaving them safe from actual creation. Dorrissa returned the rest of the files to Ted saying that there appeared to be no discrepancies and that they could be filed away with the rest. Ted told her that the reserve generator had been checked out and was functioning properly.

Finally leaving for home, she got there shortly after ten. Sloan had gone to his room much earlier. Jack was up and waiting.

"So you managed to make it home did you," he said, in annoyance.

"I know you want to talk," said Dorrissa. "And I want to, well, we can do them both in our bed," she added seductively.

What was a man to do?

"Are you hungry?" asked Jack.

"Only for you," Dorrissa smiled, sweetly.

That did it!

"C'mon," said Jack, grinning. "I talk better lying down anyway."

Later, her neck and cheeks a rosy red, half of Dorrissa's burning desire within her had been quenched. The other half involved the excitement that she felt with having obtained their cell samples and the desire to share that knowledge with the man she loved. But Jack had been waiting all evening for her to come home. It was only fair that he get to tell her first about his day, and she was eager to listen. Her news could wait a bit longer. Lying in spent bliss in Jack's arms, Dorrissa purred. "So Dear, tell me about your interview," as she nudged her nose back and forth circling his left nipple to arouse his senses. Not so much wanting to dull his concentration towards conversation but more because she couldn't get enough of him.

Jack told Dorrissa about his interview and the questions he was asked. He said that he had been accused of being homophobic and Mr. Billarts, the Minister of National Defense, seemed to have taken a personal dislike to him. He didn't know why.

Though a partial dislike of homosexuals was somewhat true, he had never openly showed it. His disapproval of them was mainly due to the outlandish attitudes that they embraced as a group and the superior airs that some of them put on in public when together. Individually, he had met a few and being in their company didn't bother him in the least. David, who sat on the rank committee with him, was in fact a homosexual. He considered David a good friend whom he liked and admired. Jack was not big on lunches, but when he did indulge, he would often have lunch with David. He enjoyed his company specifically because David was the exact opposite of ostentatious. Though it was true he didn't associate with David outside of work, it was more to do with their differences in lifestyles than anything else. That and the fact he spent all of his free time in the company of his best friend, Dorrissa. Jack firmly believed the character of an individual was the true measure of the man, or the woman, and not their sexual preferences. Character was what he really judged a person by.

Jack told Dorrissa that he didn't want the job and wished the cabinet's vote would have been against him. Unfortunately it had passed favorably, most likely due to the Internal Prime Minister's personal wishes, and he was appointed. The consequences of turning it down at that stage, Dorrissa was well aware of. They had talked about it the night before and decided that it would be too great a risk. Before telling her about his one on one conversation with Mr. Trandlore, Jack made Dorrissa promise not to tell anyone. It had been told to him in confidence he told her. He decided to tell Dorrissa because he wanted her to see a different side to Ray Trandlore that hardly anyone knew existed. Besides, he really didn't like keeping secrets from her. The fact that people were dropping like flies all around him however, was a valid one to keep.

Jack spoke of the Prime Minister's childhood. He thought the Prime Minister had tears in his eyes when he mentioned the part about his brother's death. The reason for the story was to show Jack the grave danger that Family Survival Groups represent.

When Dorrissa heard all this she was mortified. How could she possibly tell Jack of the samples, their samples, that she had awaiting creation? After relating that conversation, with the last part of it sounding like a speech against Family Survival Groups, it seemed that he had become a government convert.

Jack did not tell her about the rest of Mr. Trandlore's talk nor the Prime Minister's outburst or his threats. He did not want Dorrissa to worry. Unfortunately the half truths and secrets being kept from her were beginning to mount up. He most definitely did not tell Dorrissa about the man with red hair. He did mention that he had made an appointment with Dr. Foxing for Wednesday.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Dorrissa.

"Just some muscle spasms, nothing much," replied Jack.

"Here. Roll over and let me give you a massage."

Jack, always one to oblige, did what he was told. Better than a chiropractor he thought.

On Wednesday afternoon Jack was told to go into an examining room and remove his shirt where the doctor would join him presently. Within a short time the doctor came in to greet him.

"Jack," said Dr. Foxing. "We haven't seen you for awhile. Or rather should I say not in person? I caught your performance on the media screen. On the way to becoming a big celebrity are we?"

Jack emitted a bashful smile. The doctor consulted Jack's file.

"It says here you've been having neck pains and headaches. Can you expand upon that? How long have they been occurring?"

"Actually Dr. Foxing, that isn't the real reason I've come. I would have scheduled this visit for a physical, I know it's been awhile, but then it would have taken longer to see you and I couldn't wait."

"Well, whatever you have on your mind it must be serious. How can I help you Jack?"

"We've know each other since my graduation from the child rearing center, a very long time, Dr. Foxing. I have the utmost respect for you and trust you implicitly. Something strange has happened to me this past week and I'm not too sure what to make of it."

The doctor listened intently.

"Three people whom I knew, or had just met, each seeming to be in perfect health, have died suddenly. All from apparent natural causes and this to me is more than mere coincidence. I was hoping that you might know something about what's going on that I don't."

Dr. Foxing, in an evasive huff, said that he knew nothing and that Jack had unmitigated gall to come there and waste his time while sick people were waiting to see him.

"Please. I don't know who else to turn to." He could see that the doctor was clearly disturbed by what he had told him and believing Dr. Foxing to be holding back added, "I was at the Parliament Buildings on Monday and met with the Prime Minister and his cabinet to receive an appointment for the newly created position of media spokesperson for the government against Family Survival Groups. I was thinking of asking the Prime Minister what was happening..."

"Don't be a fool!" exclaimed Dr. Foxing, cutting Jack off in mid sentence. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Leave it alone before it is too late."

"I can't do that Dr. Foxing. One of those people was a good friend. I need to know what is happening."

The doctor studied his long-time patient with a searching wonder. "If I didn't know you better Jack, being a high level government worker and all, I'd believe you were sent here with a loaded question of entrapment."

"I assure you. That isn't the case."

"What is your opinion on the government to seek out and destroy Family Survival Groups?" asked the doctor.

"Well. They are breaking the law. If I was not reporting on their activities then the government would have appointed someone else to do it. I really only accepted because I was afraid of the repercussions that could be directed against me, and possibly Dorrissa, as a result of my refusal."

"Jack," the doctor continued, "I knew two of those people you reported on in that Family Survival Group. That being the moniker the government has saddled them with. They are good, kind people. It broke my heart to see what happened to them. I've heard of other groups being caught and prosecuted via the rumor mill, as I'm sure you have also.

"The people found in these groups are all first generation Crehus like you, with a sprinkling of natural born humans. It was of course the natural born among us that first started these groups. No matter what the government wants people to believe, not all natural born children that were raised had bad or indifferent parents.

"You never knew what it was like to have parents though you had the next best thing. Educators who were raised by loving, doting, honest to goodness real parents were your teachmasters. Most of this present crop of second generation Crehus being raised, and that is what I call them a crop, do not have morals and values taught to them as they were taught to you. And the ones taught to myself were much more meaningful because I had real loving parents who did the teaching.

"I'm afraid, Jack, that we are living in a watered down society. I don't care how good the cell matches are that they create in birthing labs, no offense to Dorrissa mind you. Nothing can match the love a parent endows upon their offspring. Although gone a long time now, bless them, there is not a day that goes by that I do not think of both my parents with love and affection.

"You want to know the first and foremost thing I despise about this government? And yes I know despise is a strong word. Never the less, it is the fact that they gave me a Rod shot when I was but a teen. Back then, when we first received the Rod shot, we were promised that if we ever wanted to have children our cells would be matched with our chosen partners. The marriage ceremony had been done away with by this time. We were told we could raise our children in our own home. It was all a blatant, bare-faced lie.

"To have never been given the opportunity of raising my own children is what grieves me the most. Sometimes it makes me extremely bitter just to think about it. Nowadays it's pretty much second generation Crehus that make up the bulk of the population. Soon your so-called Family Survival Groups will be a thing of the past."

Jack had been glued to the edge of his seat, listening to the heartfelt, solemn words being spoken before him.

"But this isn't why you've come," paused the doctor, "to listen to a rant from a tired, disgruntled old man. You want to hear about your friend's unnatural death. Yes, unnatural I'm afraid so. What I am about to tell you Jack is something that you may have guessed yourself by now but are unwilling to admit. I need your word as a friend and a gentleman that everything you learn from me today shall be kept in strict confidence. It is a reversal, so to speak, of the sacred patient-doctor relationship."

"I promise," said Jack, much in awe of the man before him.

"If you break that promise I shall very likely go to my grave as I suspect it will bring about the death of me."

"I understand. I promise I will tell no one."

"Not even Dorrissa?" asked Dr. Foxing.

"Not even Dorrissa. Not anyone," Jack promised, thinking to himself that he will not break this oath at any cost.

"What do you know about the Dad Chip?" asked the doctor.

"That it is a monitoring device installed in Crehu children at the age of eight to be used for future monitoring of law breakers that have been put on probation," said Jack.

"That is only partly true. The Dad Chip, the government told us, stands for D.N.A. Activation and Disclosure. What they didn't tell us is that this chip not only contains a person's unique D.N.A. profile, it also contains a deadly toxic substance. I once heard, from an eminent source, that with the application of special highly developed microwaves this chip self destructs allowing the toxic substance entrance into the bloodstream. Death is instantaneous. It happens within seconds."

Jack was stunned senseless. Never in the depths of his mind could he fathom such treachery from a government he put his trust in.

"I'm not sure what the government's actual reasoning in doing this was. I suspect it may have been done to allow them to eliminate dangerous offenders, or quell future rebellious uprisings as fast as they could. In any case, I fear it is now being used indiscriminately by members of the national law enforcement agency. Possibly sanctioned by the government to relieve overcrowding and help keep costs down in Artic prison compounds. Whatever their motive, I'm afraid it's being done. Since a person's remains are cremated as soon as possible it's almost a combined euthanasia holocaust of undesirables."

"That's sick. Unspeakably horrifying," said Jack, repugnantly.

"It is indeed," said Dr. Foxing. "That is why we had best never speak of it again. If the government ever finds out what I've just told you your life won't be worth a plug loony and neither will Dorrissa's. Or mine either for that matter."

"What if the chip was removed? What if it was taken out and destroyed?" asked Jack.

"Any tampering with that chip at all sends out an alarm to the government department that monitors them. Another doctor, a former colleague of mine, not knowing about the microwaves had a Crehu patient that offered him a great deal of money to remove his chip. As soon as he started to take it out with forceps it disintegrated right before his eyes and the patient died instantly. Within fifteen minutes government workers stormed his office, not only removing the body but removing the doctor as well. I never heard from him again. That is why I said former colleague of mine."

"But how did you know it happened that way?"

"His nurse had been in attendance with him. Of course right after it happened he sent her home immediately. He told the arresting 'Storm Troopers' that he had been alone. My friend knew what would happen to him for breaking the law," said Dr. Foxing.

"But the patient was being monitored. That is how they knew," suggested Jack.

"On the contrary, the person was a high level government worker much like you who wanted the chip removed to quell the worry of any possible future monitoring. He was completely unaware of the deadly consequences which would result."

"Perhaps a signal was activated when the doctor tried to remove the chip?" said Jack.

"Perhaps," repeated the doctor. "But for all intents and purposes I'd be very wary of coming to any deduction such as that," said the doctor. "I am only surmising what possibly went wrong. I don't know for sure."

"Just the same, there must be something that can be done. Crehus like me are all walking time bombs that could blow up with the government's slightest whim."

"If you lead an exemplary life Jack, the government will never have cause to monitor you. I'm not sure if I made the right decision in telling you this for I can see it weighs heavy upon your mind. You may be tempted to tell others but all you can really do in the end is help your friends follow the straight and narrow. Ever speaking to anyone of the dire consequences that could occur from having a chip would most certainly come round full circle and more than likely result in your demise. The lives of anyone close to you would also be put into grave danger. Above everything else Jack, you must always remember that. Never let it leave the forefront of your mind. Not even for an instant. It only takes an instant for a slip of the tongue."

"You can be sure of that," replied Jack, very much in a downtrodden state. "Hmpt," Jack uttered, shaking his head back and forth, ironic smile on his lips while trying to comprehend the immensity of what he had just heard. "I can't thank you enough for your honesty and the trust that you have shown by telling me all of this Dr. Foxing. Shockingly tragic as it may be, it's much better knowing than not. It's all slowly starting to sink in but I'll deal with it, rest assured."

"I'm extremely sorry Jack, to be the bearer of bad news. I'm sorry about your friends," said the doctor, with much sincerity.

"No news is good news they say, but in this case I much prefer to have the bad. Thank you again doctor. I really should be going now since I know you have legitimate patients waiting to see you."

"Now Jack, you're no less legitimate than they are. What good is a healthy body if it contains a troubled mind? But for my records I need to make a prognosis. I want you to take this form to the lab and we'll get some blood work done. We should do a cholesterol check and you can also give a urine sample while you're there. When was the last time you had anything to eat or drink?"

"Not since last night. Constantly thinking about what I was going to say to you today and thinking about everything that has happened this past week has taken the edge off of my appetite I guess."

"Perfect," said Dr. Foxing. "You can go have all the tests done now. Are you still smoking marijuana?"

"Occasionally," Jack flinched.

"You know smoking is not good for you. Try baking a batch of brownies instead, low fat of course. Check your food allocation center. All you add is water."

"Okey dokey," smiled Jack.

"While you still have your shirt off breathe in deep for me," said Dr. Foxing, as he listened with his stethoscope.

"Again...Once more but deeper now," he said. "Alright Jack, you can put your shirt back on. Everything sounds fine but I think we'll do a chest x-ray just as a precautionary measure. What year are you in now?"

"My forty-fifth I think. It's sometime this year."

"Hmm," said Dr. Foxing, holding up his extended middle finger and smiling.

"Oh no I'm fine, really I am. No problems at all down there," Jack, eyebrows raised, said hastily.

The doctor laughed, quite amused by Jack's worrisome expression. "You go get those tests done you hear? I'll get Ava to give you a call when I receive the results if need be. Otherwise, if you don't hear from us as you said before, no news is good news. Take care now. Give my best to Dorrissa."

"Thank you very much, Dr. Foxing. Thank you for everything," said Jack, with profound sincerity.

"You're more than welcome Jack. Bye for now."

After he finished his blood work and handed in his urine sample, Jack went to have his chest x-ray taken. The technician placed a short, heavy mat over his head and covered his shoulder.

"What's this for?"

"That's a lead shoulder and armpit covering to protect your Dad Chip against radiation rays from the x-ray machine. The rays can not penetrate through lead. All Crehus must wear them. Years ago, natural born humans also required them to protect their reproductive organs from radiation. Of course that was before the Rod shot," said the technician. "Now take a deep breath. Let some air out...And...Hold it. Stand perfectly still...And...Ready."

Jack heard the sharp clang of the machine.

"Now I want you to stand sideways. We've got to do one more."

When she was finished, she asked Jack to wait in the next room while the x-rays were checked to see if they were all right. A lead shoulder vest, thought Jack. If it doesn't allow x-ray penetration I wonder if it will keep out microwaves as well. When the technician advised Jack they were okay and he could leave he stepped out into the cold air. It was another grey, overcast day. He didn't care though. He felt better...Much better. Jack believed he may have found a solution.

When Dorrissa saw Jack that evening and asked him what the doctor had said, he replied that Dr. Foxing told him his pains were a result of stress and that Dorrissa's massage was the best possible medicine for it.

"I always knew I could have been a brilliant doctor," she said.

Chapter 5

The end of the year was now drawing to a close. During the past few weeks, Jack had traveled to Vancouver, Montreal, Halifax and Toronto, to report on Family Survival Groups. Sloan, who was being driven to and from work by Harry whenever necessary, was still residing at Jack and Dorrissa's and becoming more obnoxious as time passed. That had become a major sore point for his reluctant hosts. Jack was worn out from all the traveling. He and Dorrissa missed each other immensely and were tired of the charades they had to play because of their loss of privacy.

"This is driving me nuts. When will they find a new host location for him? When will we return to some semblance of normality around here?" growled Jack.

On the plus side, Sloan had been going to the city every weekend and that suited them just fine. They had received their invitation to Mr. Charles Jacobstown's New Year's Eve party which was now just a week away. Even Sloan was excited about New Year's Eve. Trent had arranged a big night out at a fancy club in the city with some of his friends from work to celebrate.

"I can't wait," said Sloan. "This will be my first New Year's away from the rearing center. I want to party 'til dawn."

Jack needed to make one more trip to Montreal on the Friday morning. Not knowing how long he would be, he asked Dorrissa if she could come along on the trip. She jumped at the chance. No problem to take the day off. She would leave Gail in charge. Her special files, still locked in her desk drawer, remained quite safe. After checking into their hotel, Jack reported to work and Dorrissa went out to do some shopping. Having completed his assignment, Jack and Dorrissa were able to spend all Saturday together taking in the sights. A blowing snowstorm had been forecast for early Sunday morning. Rather than take a chance on staying over another day they decided to fly out that evening.

"Listen Dorry. If we don't leave tonight we may not get out of here for awhile," said Jack.

Dorrissa thought about that for a bit. "We better leave then." Thinking about their cell samples lying in wait, Dorrissa added, "I have much to look after at the office."

Instead of going to the city for the weekend again, believing that Jack and Dorrissa would not be home until Sunday evening, Sloan invited Trent over to show him where he resided. Trent suggested bringing his friends who would be with them on New Year's Eve. It would allow Sloan a chance to get acquainted.

"Are you up for it?" asked Trent.

"I'm always up when you're around," laughed Sloan. "Bring it on!"

One of his friends, being a few years older than Trent, had an elevated rank that allowed him the ability to acquire a driver's license. It was not high enough to permit him to own his own car. They could get one at a rental agency that was situated right alongside the train station. Trent, along with four of his friends, pulled into Jack and Dorrissa's driveway early Friday evening. Sloan ran eagerly to meet them.

"Nice digs. Where's the landlord?" said the driver, who looked to be in his late twenties.

"Gone for the weekend," Sloan replied exuberantly.

"I told you that," remarked Trent.

"Just making sure," said the driver.

"Here. Help us with this," Trent ordered Sloan.

The six men carried in bags of groceries, cases of beer and a large box of assorted liquor.

"Are you guys staying for a week or what?" joked Sloan.

"This is for you," Trent said to Sloan, holding up a container of Scotch whisky.

"Right on," said Sloan. "This calls for a celebration."

The men partied on into the night and watched as the sun came up next morning.

"Sun's up. Time to call it a night," laughed one of the men as he stood up and fell backward over a chair.

"I'll take care of him," said another.

"Not a chance Bitch. I saw him first."

"Forget it. He's dead to the world," said Trent.

"Well lover. I'm up for trading partners if you are," said a man.

"Not a chance," said Sloan, grabbing Trent's arm. "We're spoken for."

"You're in pretty good shape this morning," observed Trent.

"I've been coasting. I find some things are more important than getting drunk all the time," Sloan answered.

"Such as?" asked Trent, mischievously.

"You're about to find out you lucky fella," said Sloan.

"I can hardly wait," replied Trent.

"Hey. Where can we crash?" asked another man.

"Anywhere you find an empty room," said Sloan.

"He's already crashed," said Trent, pointing to a man passed out on the floor.

"I bet I can get him to come to attention. Part of him anyhow," the man laughed. "Here. Someone give me a hand to help him to the nearest bed."

"Guys, don't make any messes. I don't do laundry," grinned Sloan. "C'mon big boy," Sloan said to Trent. "Follow me. We've gotta get to my room while the gettin's good."

Jack and Dorrissa arrived back home at approximately ten o'clock Saturday night. They saw a strange vehicle in the driveway.

"Whose car is that?" said Dorrissa.

"I have no idea. It looks like a rental judging by its back sticker."

They tried the front door. It was locked. Upon entering the house they were blasted with the sound of music blaring from the stereo loudspeakers.

"Sloan!" Jack yelled in perturbation.

Dorrissa turned off the music.

"Sloan!" again yelled Jack, this time louder.

There was still no answer.

"I'll check his room," he said.

No one was there. It was in a seedy state of disarray. A half bottle of scotch sat on the bedside table.

Passing by his bedroom, and the guest bedroom, Jack noticed that all the beds had been slept in. Rage erupted within him. What an asshole. Having a party without permission in my house, he thought.

"Jack. Can you come downstairs?" called Dorrissa.

"I'm on my way," he answered, dashing down the stairs.

"The window in the sauna is all steamed up," said Dorrissa.

"That's why he couldn't hear me," said Jack.

"Wait here," he said, walking over to the sauna.

Jack opened the door and was stunned to see a group of naked young men engaged in various acts of sex. Startled, they scrambled to their feet. Turning away in disgust, he released the handle and the door closed automatically. Jack suddenly felt sick to his stomach and ran to the washroom where he threw up.

Dorrissa, still standing at the bottom of the stairs, was somewhat startled to see Jack run into the washroom and called out his name. A few seconds later, two naked men emerged from the sauna.

"Oh shit!" said one of them upon seeing her. Both quickly went back in. The man with the driver's license opened the door and stuck his head out.

"Can you give us some fucking privacy if you don't mind for fuck sake," he shouted at Dorrissa, shocking her even further. "Give us fifteen minutes of fucking privacy and we'll be out of your fucking house and fucking lives forever. Now FUCK OFF!" he yelled, and closed the door.

Jack re-emerged from the bathroom after throwing some water on his face and rinsing his mouth. He went upstairs with Dorrissa, who was left shaking from the confrontation.

"Get your coat. We're going for a drive," he said. "I've got to get out of here."

Jack decided to drive over to Dolly's to see if she had returned. The house was in darkness.

"The government must have made good on their intentions of lowering Dolly's rank and reuniting her with George," said Dorrissa.

Anyone receiving an agreed upon rank reduction did not have to appear before the Rank Committee Review Board. For that reason, Jack would not know if that's what happened. It was a possibility though. He made a mental note to check the National Citizens Registry at the office on Monday.

By the time they returned home the rental car was gone. So was their boarder.

Sloan returned on Sunday evening with a knock at their door. He had arrived in a cab which was operated by the car rental division at the train station. He knew as well as Jack and Dorrissa that it was against the law to live anywhere else without prior government approval and apologized profusely for what had happened. The decision to invite those people over had been made on the spur of the moment and not knowing where Jack and Dorrissa were staying, he could not call and ask for permission. They had not bothered to leave contact information with Sloan, believing he was spending the entire weekend in the city as usual. Consecutive weekends away were also illegal by government regulations. Sloan went on to say that excessive drinking, coupled with the other Crehus uncontrollable actions, had led to a general chaos. He said he was quite prepared to move out as soon as possible. The profuse detestation of both men for each other led to their mutual agreement of this conclusion.

Jack phoned Mr. Leonard Jamling on Monday morning and told him that he wanted Sloan out of the house as soon as possible. He described the reason why but refrained from using the specific details. After the accusations made about him at his previous interview with the Prime Ministers cabinet, he assumed that he would be considered extremely homophobic.

Sloan also made a phone call. It was to John Billarts. Downplaying the actual events that occurred, Sloan made the case for a hasty departure from his present dwelling.

Jack heard back from Mr. Jamling on Wednesday afternoon. He had relayed Jack's umbrage to the Prime Minister.

"Umbrage?" questioned Jack. "You told him umbrage? I highly disagree with your chosen word use in describing this situation."

"The Prime Minister believes that your dislike of Sloan may border on malicious persecution," said Mr. Jamling.

"Malicious persecution!" repeated Jack. "You can tell the Prime Minister for me that if Sloan is not gone, if he is not removed from my home by the end of this week, he can find himself a new whipping boy to run his errands. I resign."

"You're going to resign, Jack? Quit? You'd better think about what you're saying. No one resigns a posting from the Prime Minister. Your home, your job, even your life, is owned by the government. You must surely be daft. You really want me to tell him that?"

Jack felt like he had slammed into a brick wall. What could he have been thinking?

"Of course not," replied Jack. "It was just the heat of the moment taking control. All of this has been very trying on my patience."

"I sympathize with you Jack, I really do. But everything works out in time. You'll see."

"Yea, I know. I just wish time would move a little swifter that's all."

"I'll keep working on it Jack. I like you. I think you're doing an exceptionally fine job."

"Thanks," said Jack, feeling a bit beat up.

"Bye for now. Keep in touch, you hear?"

"I hear. Thanks. Goodbye."

Sloan's phone call had fared better. Mr. Billarts, who along with Sloan harbored no feelings of fondness for Jack, had some good news. He had obtained a residential space for Sloan at a newly opened living center in the city. Located on the twenty second floor of a high rise building, Sloan could move in on the day after New Year's. He found out Thursday morning and called Jack right away to inform him. If you think Sloan was happy, Jack was turning cartwheels. No sooner than having talked to Sloan, an interesting plan started to develop in Jack's head. He began to devise and formulate a parting gift that he would give to Sloan. It would be an everlasting gift. One that Sloan would forever remember him by.

"Becka," called Jack. "Could you come in here for a moment please?"

Becka was inside Jack's office in an instant. "Yes," she answered, in imagined anticipation. Becka was constantly finding herself in imagined anticipation whenever Jack was in close proximity.

"I was wondering," he paused. "Being of a young age and having young friends, do you have any girlfriends that possibly sleep around?"

"What?" said Becka, somewhat shocked.

"Don't misunderstand me," replied Jack. "You know Sloan, right?"

"That creep," replied Becka.

"Aw, he's not really a creep," Jack pretended. "He's only screwed up. He got himself mixed up in a same sex relationship. Growing up in a segregated atmosphere he has never had the chance to discover the joy that a beautiful woman can provide. You know what it's like."

"Excuse me?" said Becka, wide-eyed and unbelieving.

"Not you personally," clarified Jack. "I meant to say you can imagine what it would be like growing up in a similar situation. Some people if affects detrimentally."

"Oh, I'm sooooo glad you rephrased that."

"I was thinking that a few young ladies might bring him around, straighten him out so to speak."

"And when should this great revelation take place?" asked Becka.

"Well. I just heard he is leaving our residence the day after New Year's. It will need to happen before then."

"I thought you said he is always away in the city on weekends."

"Leave that part to me. Just check with a couple of your friends to see if they would be interested in helping to redirect the course of a confused young man's life. You could all drop by for drinks. We could celebrate New Year's Eve," said Jack.

"You'll owe me big time if this pans out."

"I know, I know. You do this for me and I'll be forever in your debt."

"You got that right baby," said Becka.

Jack raised his eyebrows with that comment.

"I'll see what I can do and let you know tomorrow," said Becka, as she sauntered away deep in thought.

Everything was shaping up just fine. Jack had told no one at the office what had taken place at his home last weekend regarding Sloan and his deviant friends. That would have caused complications too numerous to deal with. How could he keep Sloan from going away this weekend? That was his dilemma. Fortunately for Jack, fate intervened. On the way home that evening Sloan was more miserable than normal. He said that he would have to remain at Jack and Dorrissa's for the weekend. Many senior doctors at the hospital where Trent worked booked off New Year's Eve seeing that it was on a Sunday night. Trent, being the new kid on the block, was required to work the whole weekend. He had phoned Sloan that afternoon to tell him the bad news. Their planned celebration for New Year's was now off. Sloan was devastated.

"That's too bad," said Jack, in the pretense of consolation. Meanwhile he was basking in the delight of his sheer good fortune. "I know how much we both enjoy our weekends away from each other. But knowing that this one shall be our last together is more or less comforting. I'm sure we'll be able to manage somehow."

Sloan did not reply. When he got back to the house he spent the rest of the evening in his room. Good for him, thought Jack.

Dorrissa was irrepressibly effervescent upon hearing the news of Sloan's soon-to-be departure.

"Champagne, champagne," she remarked. "Break out the crystal. This calls for a celebration."

She looked so beautiful right at that moment. She wore that 'not a care in the world' smile that he loved to see and had not seen often as of late.

"You're so sparkling and bubbly I could drink you up instead," said Jack.

Sooner than later, they found themselves in their room. But unlike Sloan, sulking was not on the menu.

On the morning of the next day, Becka had to give Jack the bad news. Her two close friends had already planned festivities for New Year's Eve. It was too bad that it could not take place on Monday, New Year's Day. They could have made it on that day. Jack had hoped for New Year's Eve since they would be away at Mr. Jacobstown's party. What the heck. He could find an excuse to take Dorrissa out again on New Year's Day.

"That will be perfect," gleamed Jack. "This is what you can do."

Jack then explained to Becka that he would make dinner reservations for Dorrissa and himself for New Year's Day. If she could arrive with her friends by cab at four o'clock, that would give them a few hours to imbibe some alcoholic beverages rendering Sloan into a mild state of intoxication. When Jack said he and Dorrissa were leaving now because they had dinner reservations, Becka would say that she thought they were leaving at eight and that is when she had told the cab driver to return.

He would reply that they were quite welcome to stay until their cab got there as long as they didn't wreck the place. In reality, the cab driver would not be told to come back. She and her friends would stall Sloan, using their feminine wiles, into believing it would arrive at any minute. Eventually Sloan would become less inhibited and too inebriated to stop the girls in their endeavors. When their task had been completed, Becka would call for a legitimate cab. They would be long gone by the time Jack and Dorrissa returned home.

"When I first told my girlfriends," said Becka, "they couldn't believe it. I mean the sheer idea of it all. Really! Now they think it's a lark. A hoot! Doing a virgin no less," Becka repeated their exact words. "Well. Technically speaking since he's never been with a woman before. They're really up for it."

"Hopefully you'll be able to get Sloan up for it too," said Jack.

"I'm sure they will. They're wild. Not me though. The thought of him working at the institute is creepy enough. I don't need it to get any creepier. Besides," Becka said, "I'm saving myself for someone special."

"That's mighty womanly of you," said Jack, avoiding any eye contact while pretending to shuffle the papers on his desk. Finally looking up, he said he had a few important calls to make regarding an upcoming meeting. Becka smiled and excused herself saying that she also had some work to do.

With the expectation of Sunday's party to look forward to, the time seemed to fly right by for Jack and Dorrissa. Sloan, on the other hand, seemed to be having the longest, secluded, most miserable, weekend of his life. The materialization of Sunday evening saw Jack and Dorrissa dressed in their best finery. Jack in his new suit, Dorrissa in her beautiful red dress and looking positively stunning, they were off.

The home of Charles Jacobstown sat high on a hill at the very edge of Jack and Dorrissa's community. It was what one might have aptly called a mansion many years ago. Certainly the most ravishing and the most elegant home either of them had ever seen. Built by a wealthy industrialist back in the days of free enterprise, having long since been confiscated by the government, it was a haven for the elite.

Consisting of twelve bedrooms, eight washrooms, a separate screening room, an indoor pool with a sauna, and a dining area that easily could seat thirty, it also had its own ballroom. Jack and Dorrissa were met by valet parking and escorted to the front door. Admittance was restricted, by formal invitation only. Upon its presentation they were allowed entry. Ushered into the ballroom, Dorrissa was astounded.

"There must be over three hundred people here," she said.

Recognizable faces mingled intermittently throughout the room. There were high profile members of the government, writers, teachmasters, entertainers, sports celebrities, movers and shakers all. The cream of society was before them. A nine piece orchestra was set up on a stage at the end of the ballroom playing old favorites. Tables and chairs were scattered around with bodies moving to and fro, from table to table.

Meticulous servers dressed in very smart matching attire circulated throughout the crowd with trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Jack, being the celebrity flavor of the month, had been adeptly hustled away into the men's lounge which adjoined the massive ballroom. Everyone it seemed, men and women alike, wanted to rub shoulders with Jack and hear of his latest escapades. Dorrissa, left to her own devises, wandered aimlessly amongst the endless chatter. Suddenly, in complete surprise, she heard her name being called.

"Dorrissa. Is that you? It can't be."

Turning to look for a face that matched the voice, Dorrissa saw a woman sitting a few feet away from where she was standing. Elegantly dressed and dripping in jewelry, the woman let out a squeal of delight.

"It is you. I don't believe it. Of all the people to run into," she added.

Dorrissa stared long and hard at the woman.

"Oh gosh, you don't recognize me do you? It's Susan. Susan Edwardianson, your final preparation teachmistress from your long forgotten child rearing center days."

Dorrissa, who had been biting her lip in vague recollection, was now positively beaming. "Miss Edwardianson? Is that really you?" she regaled joyously.

"It certainly is my dear. Come. Have a seat. Let me look at you. What a beautiful woman you turned out to be."

Dorrissa had first met Miss Edwardianson when she was a young girl in her fourteenth year. An endearing teachmaster that instilled in all her pupils a love of life, Miss Edwardianson had prepared her students for the eventualities of living in the real world. A world far removed from the prudish, sheltered cloister of the child rearing center. She had been Dorrissa's idol, her mentor, possessing dreams and ambition that one would strive to match. Without her involvement in Dorrissa's life, Dorrissa would never have achieved the goals she had. How is it possible that she had not recognized Miss Edwardianson right away? One of the last natural born humans before the introduction of the Rod shot, Miss Edwardianson must be in her late sixties thought Dorrissa.

"Let me introduce you to our table Dorrissa," said Miss Edwardianson. "This is my companion Alice."

"How do you do, pleased to meet you," said Dorrissa.

"This is Mark and his partner Nina, John and his partner Dianne, and Mel and his partner Eva. I've only met them all tonight."

"Hello. I'm Dorrissa. It's nice to meet you all."

"Likewise," they replied.

"Susan is such a charming lady," said Eva. "The stories she has been telling us are simply amazing."

"So Dorrissa, don't tell me a beautiful woman like you is here all alone. Always proud of being a good judge of character I know there must be a delicious looking man lurking somewhere nearby," commented Susan.

Dorrissa, eyes twinkling, let out a throaty, husky laugh. "Oh there is," she said. "Unfortunately he's been absconded by a group of wannabe's."

"My, my," said Miss Edwardianson, "he must be important."

"He likes to think he is," said Dorrissa, smiling.

"That is such a charming bracelet Darling, do let me see?"

Dorrissa held out her arm so that Miss Edwardianson could have a better look at her charm bracelet.

"It's marvelous, simply marvelous. Many years ago I was given one of these. Long since put away, I had forgotten all about it," said Miss Edwardianson, with a distant, forlorn look.

"My partner gave me this on the occasion of our first," Dorrissa paused. About to say anniversary, she quickly caught herself and said, "Government Day together."

Miss Edwardianson noticeably raised her eyebrows at the clear change of thought in Dorrissa's sentence.

"But your jewelry is so exquisite...so...so...To die for," said Dorrissa, trying to reverse the focus from herself.

"My word child, you could be right my dear. It was not long after giving me this," she pointed to her dazzling diamond necklace, "that my partner breathed his last."

"Oh I'm sorry," said Dorrissa, naturally embarrassed.

"It's quite all right Dear. He was a good man. I couldn't fault him for being older. Yes, I have lovely baubles and trinkets and he certainly left me well provided for. It is three years now since he's been gone. The last year has been much more bearable since Alice has come to stay. But my, I do go on. Tell me about yourself, about your life now."

"Well, Miss Edwardianson."

"Dorrissa please, call me Susan. We are not teachmistress and pupil anymore."

"You're always teaching me something," Alice butt in, with a smile, emphasizing the word me.

"That's because you know so little," said Miss Edwardianson, in playful retort. Seeing Alice's hurt frown she continued, "Oh don't you be silly on me. I was just teasing. Go see if you can find that tardy server would you? I'm simply parched sitting here."

"Yes Madame," said Alice, and off she went.

"Don't look now my Dear," said Miss Edwardianson, "but I believe you are about to be plucked away before our conversation even gets started."

Dorrissa turned to see a handsome, distinguished looking man making a beeline for their table.

"Excuse me Miss? I could not help but see the loveliest woman I have ever saw in my entire life sitting just a short distance from me. I was hoping that you might honor me with this dance?"

"Thank you for asking," replied Dorrissa, kindly. "But I really don't feel like dancing right now."

"Perhaps later?" asked the man.

"Perhaps," replied Dorrissa.

As he walked away, Nina said to everyone at the table, "I don't believe it! She just turned down Mr. William Rossossin, Chairman of the National Hydrogen Commission. The most sought after, eligible partner here tonight."

Alice returned with the server. Dorrissa and Miss Edwardianson each decided on a glass of white wine.

"So tell me Dorrissa. I can see by your identity card that you have risen quickly in rank since we last parted. What is it you do?" asked Susan.

"I'm the superintendent at the Wycliffe birthing lab."

"So you create all those adorable little bundles that no one sees?"

"I suppose. But I've never heard them described quite like that," said Dorrissa, clearly intrigued.

"Being a teachmistress was the most wonderful, fulfilling thing I have ever done in my life. I wouldn't have traded that vocation for the world. You say the Wycliffe birthing lab? You must see the children from time to time, as they grow, since the child rearing center is part of the same complex?"

"Yes I do. But because the children are moved around so much they are always different. Even teachmasters do not spend the time they once did with students, government regulations prohibiting it."

"Too bad you have to be around those little monsters eh? Good for nothing I say," uttered John, Diane's partner, who had been listening intently to their conversation.

"Alice," said Miss Edwardianson. "It's getting a bit stuffy in here. I think I'll take some air on the deck off the ballroom. Would you mind watching this seat for me? I shan't be too long."

"Not at all," replied Alice.

"Care to join me for a stroll Dorrissa?" asked Susan.

"By all means, I'd love to."

The two women got up and went out to the covered deck. There were few people there as most of the guests were hobnobbing in the main ballroom.

"What a spectacular view. Look at all the stars out tonight," said Susan.

The two women talked incessantly, mesmerized by each others conversation. Susan had become involved and then partnered with a very kind and loving gentleman, twenty years her senior. He was the head cardiologist of a leading Toronto hospital and she had taken early retirement to be with him when he became incurably ill. He lingered for close to a year and a half before finally dying and had left Susan very well provided for.

Dorrissa spoke of her job and the duties that such a position entailed. She was adamant that the Crehus emerging from her birthing lab would be inferior by match to no ones. Dorrissa confided in Susan and told her of going to the cell repository and picking out the most superior samples she could find.

"But I thought only cell repository workers matched up and shipped out samples?" questioned Susan.

"Up until now," said Dorrissa, brimming with satisfaction. "I believe I'm the only one outside of the repository who has ever done it."

Susan was very interested. She was very interested indeed.

"What I have told you is not general knowledge Susan and while not illegal, the unethical or moral issue of doing this could be questioned. I trust you to keep this information to yourself."

"Most definitely, I won't tell a soul."

"A soul?" asked Dorrissa.

"Some of us have beliefs no government can put asunder," replied Susan, smiling.

They talked of children. How second generation Crehus were very different from first generation ones, leaving much to be desired. They both agreed on this point. That was why, Dorrissa countered, it was imperative for her to create the best possible matches. If only teachmasters were better qualified, but Dorrissa was powerless to make changes in that area.

Dorrissa also spoke of her loneliness with her partner away on business so much. She refrained from telling Susan of his new job appointment as government spokesperson relating to the capture of Family Survival Groups. She was too embarrassed. Watching those poor people on the media screen filled her with pangs of sorrow that played on her conscience. Susan suggested that she come and visit her the next time she found herself alone. They would have such a good time together Susan had said. Dorrissa was ecstatic at the prospect.

The whole time Dorrissa and Susan were talking, Jack had found himself constrained by conversation in the men's lounge. First escorted in by his exuberant host, Mr. Charles Jacobstown, drinks were had by all at the most extravagant and well-stocked cherry wood bar he had ever seen. Left pigeonholed by Mr. Jacobstown with the arrival of a Supreme Court Justice, Jack was finally about to leave when Mr. Steven Laurence walked in.

"Jack. It's nice to see you again. Fine job you're doing," said Mr. Laurence, the External Prime Minister.

"Prime Minister Laurence," said Jack, a bit startled by the compliment. "Thank you Sir. Thank you very much."

"Call me Steven," said the Prime Minister. He extended his arm for a handshake.

"These meetings may look formal, but for all of us who have been here before I can assure you that they are quite the opposite. Besides, didn't you see the sign over the door when you came in?"

"What sign?" asked Jack, somewhat puzzled.

"The invisible one that states First Names Only Please," Steven joked.

Both men laughed.

"So tell me Jack. How do you like the new job so far?"

"Other than the traveling, I like it fine."

"Traveling gets you down does it?"

"There's so much of it. Off to the west coast and then out east. Up north and then back out west. I'm hardly home anymore it seems. It requires a great deal of stamina. This job would kill a younger man," kidded Jack.

"Well we can't do too much about that can we?" said Steven.

"Damn Family Survival Groups. Why can't they just commit their crimes all in the same place? Think of all the money the government would save on travel and accommodations for the various camera crews and sound men, me included."

"That's a pipe dream. Unfortunately we need actual film footage taken at the scene of the crime," said Steven. The conversation was now becoming more contemplative.

"I guess. Wait a second. What if they sent all their film to me at a central location where I could report on it?"

"You're forgetting about the actual members of these groups. We need you to show them on camera after the fact. You need to be on site," said Steven.

"You're right. What was I thinking?"

"Hmm," let's not be too hasty now. I just might have an idea."

"Really?" wondered Jack.

"Not too far from here, just north of us actually, is an old building and compound with containment fencing. It was built years ago as a super jail to house our country's criminals. Not used for many years, not since we built our Artic prison compounds, I'm almost positive the building is still structurally sound. With some minor repairs perhaps we could use it as a holding compound. Turn it into a transitory prison for these groups."

Clearly excited by its potential, Jack was all ears.

"Now the last thing I want you to do is get your hopes up. I have to run it by cabinet first and foremost. It does seem a feasible solution however. Watching these Family Survival Groups on the media screen along with the rest of the nation, I can attest on the whole to their relative harmlessness in terms of threatened physical violence to others. Their ideas may be dangerous to our society but the people themselves are not. They would be a perfect fit for a temporary medium security institution as this super jail would now be considered in relation to our new and inescapable Artic prisons. Leave it with me Jack and I'll see what I can do. Now if you'll excuse me I should go find Ruth. I know I've left her somewhere."

Oh my, thought Jack as he looked at his watch. It was almost eleven o'clock. Dorrissa was going to kill him.

Just as Susan and Dorrissa's tête-à-tête was winding down, William, the Chairman of the National Hydrogen Commission, approached.

"I've been looking all over for you," he said to Dorrissa. "At first I thought the brilliant sparkle of light radiating from this deck was being emitted by the moon and the stars. How easily I was fooled. I can see now it could only have been derived from your dazzling smile and lavish presence."

"You're too kind," replied Dorrissa.

"And quite the flatterer," stated Susan.

"I haven't had a dance all night. I've been waiting and hoping."

"Oh, look at the time," said Susan. "I must be going. I always like to be home before midnight no matter where I go or what event I attend. You have my number now. Call me sometime."

"Goodnight," bade Dorrissa. "I'll be in touch."

"Well, how about it?" William asked.

Dorrissa looked at her watch. It was ten forty-five. Where was Jack? How could he have left her on her own for so long? Dorrissa looked up and smiled at William. He was rather handsome.

"Why not," she said.

Walking back into the ballroom they took to the dance floor. All eyes were upon them. Dorrissa watched as Susan and Alice departed. It was a slow dance. She placed her arms around William's shoulders and swayed to the music. This is where Jack found her.

"Can I cut in?" said Jack, thumping the man on the shoulder.

William turned towards Jack exposing a scornful scowl that only he could see.

"May I cut in," Dorrissa corrected, in amusement.

"Oh I know I may," answered Jack. "I'm just asking if I can."

"No, you can't," said William, rather irritated.

"Boys, boys," pleaded Dorrissa. "We must refrain from ungentlemanly conduct. William. This is my partner Jack. I thought I'd lost him," Dorrissa smirked. "Jack. This is Mr. William Rossossin. You may shake hands but do not come out fighting."

William looked first at Jack and then at Dorrissa. "So you're going out with the big media star?" he snarled.

"Yes. And I met him when he was but a tiny glimmer. It was nice to meet you William and I thank you for the dance. You're a nice guy and a superb dancer but all said and done, this is my ride home."

"It was a pleasure Dorrissa. Call me up sometime when he's out of town," grinned William.

"Why you little..." said Jack, making a fist as Dorrissa stepped between them.

"I don't think so William. Goodnight!"

"So I'm your ride home am I?" asked Jack, after the challenger for Dorrissa's affections had departed.

"I'm sorry. Sometimes I do put my foot in my mouth don't I?"

"On occasion," agreed Jack, defiantly. "And they do so much better on the dance floor. While we're out here, how 'bout dusting off our shoes?" suggested Jack.

"How 'bout why not," mimicked Dorrissa, pulling Jack close.

Charles Jacobstown's party had been a roaring success. It was three o'clock in the morning, Monday New Year's Day, when Jack and Dorrissa finally arrived home. After his near altercation on the dance floor Jack never once strayed from Dorrissa's side. At one a.m. a scrumptious hot and cold buffet was enjoyed by all.

"Jack. I had such a lovely time. It's nice to be home though," said Dorrissa.

"It will be much nicer tomorrow after Sloan's gone," replied Jack.

"Oh give it a rest. Please don't start anything with him today."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Dorrissa flashed him a highly suspicious look.

"You know what I mean, last day and all," Jack added innocently. "Say, I've got a surprise for you. And before you respond, I know you like surprises when they are spontaneous and you're not expecting them but this one I have to tell you about ahead of time."

"Fine Jack, I'm all ears."

"I've made a dinner reservation for us tonight at the Wainright Center. You know Dorry. That farm center not too far from here. It's for eight o'clock sharp."

"Really?" asked Dorrissa, flushed with excitement.

"We have a choice of a full course turkey or roast beast dinner with all the trimmings."

"You mean roast beef?"

"That's what I said, roast beast."

"Oh Jack."

"I told Mr. Laurence, the Internal Prime Minister, about it when we were talking and I swear I could see his mouth watering," Jack laughed. "There's one more thing Dear. I invited Becka and her main squeeze over for a few drinks this afternoon to celebrate New Year's and show thanks for all the help she has been to me over the past year."

"Becka is involved with someone?" wondered Dorrissa, in wide-eyed astonishment. "Well that is extraordinary news. It's the first time I've heard," she huffed. She was relieved in one sense but aggravated for not being told in another.

"I'm not sure. I'm only surmising. After all, girls like Becka..."

"Girls like Becka?" Dorrissa interrupted.

"Exactly," said Jack. "A babe like her must have somebody. If she doesn't she can bring a friend." Looking as if his position was dubious at best, he took Dorrissa in his arms and added, "Come on Dorry. You know you're the only woman for me. It's really, really late...Or early...Whichever the case may be. I'm sure you're as tired as I am. What do you say we grab some shut-eye?"

"Sounds good to me," acknowledged Dorrissa.

Later in Dorrissa's arms, head upon her breast, Jack entered into a deep sleep of contentment.

It was one o'clock in the afternoon by the time they awoke and emerged from their room. Sloan was relaxing in front of the media screen enjoying the solitude of being alone in the living room. He got up to leave and go back to his own room when Jack and Dorrissa entered, encroaching on his privacy. Dorrissa continued into the kitchen.

"Hey," said Jack. "Don't you want to hear about last night's gala?"

"Not really," Sloan gruffly mumbled.

"The Prime Minister was there," said Jack, going to the bar and pulling out the oldest, finest bottle of scotch he could procure just to mark the occasion. "C'mon Sloan, have a drink with me. I'll tell you all about it. Why not let bygones be bygones?" smiled Jack, as he rummaged around for a pair of glasses.

What sort of devious trickery was he trying to pull off now, thought Sloan? "Since when did you start drinking scotch?" asked Sloan, warily.

"I don't mind it. I picked up this brand for you to try, seeing that New Year's is your last day here and all. Bet you've never had anything quite like it. It's so smooth you can't even taste it."

"I don't trust you. Why would you do that after what happened here the other week?"

"You're right! I was monumentally pissed off to say the least. It was Dorrissa who helped me to see that it was quite impossible for you to control the actions of others, especially under the effects of alcohol."

"And you want to drink with me after that?" asked Sloan, disbelieving.

"Drinking is fine in moderation. I'd just like to see a treaty between us. We still have to work in the same building together. Why not try to mend our feelings for each other. You don't have to have a drink with me. Just sit down and we'll talk a bit. Don't mind me though. I'm going to have one. After all, it is New Year's Day."

He began pouring himself a scotch and water just as Dorrissa came in from the kitchen. "Jack! Just what do you think you are doing?" she asked defiantly.

"What's it look like?" he replied, nonchalantly.

"You haven't even had breakfast!"

"It's too late for that."

"Well, brunch then."

"Not hungry."

"So you're going to drink on an empty stomach?" Dorrissa asked, angrily.

"I'm still full from the buffet we had this morning. Besides, I've got to save room for dinner tonight."

"Fine, go ahead and get drunk then," said Dorrissa, as she stomped out of the room in a rage.

"I didn't get drunk last night, did I? Relax. Lighten up. It's New Year's!" Jack shouted after her.

Sloan had watched this invidious exhibition of male dominance with increscent wonder. If Dorrissa had been this upset with Jack, surely there must be no ulterior motive in his actions he thought. No trick up his sleeve. That scotch looks real good too. "I'll try a short one," said Sloan.

Jack entertained Sloan with the events of the previous night. He purposely did not mention the talk he had with Steven Laurence pertaining to the abandoned super jail. With his yearning for a felicitous outcome it had to remain secret at all costs. Dorrissa, her temperament having appropriately mellowed after an initial bout of sulking, resigned to the fact that Jack was Jack. There were times when he did what he pleased. She joined the men around three p.m. with a tray of cheese, biscuits, pickles, and assorted canned meats. The conversation was kept light and lively while Jack, always the perfect host, took care of the refills. Dorrissa rightly assumed that if she and Jack actually made it out to the farm center that evening, it would be her doing the driving. A little after four, almost right on schedule, the door bell sounded.

"Now who could that be?" said Jack, as he looked at his watch. Just like clockwork he thought.

"I'll go see," said Dorrissa. I guess he wants to keep Becka's visit a surprise for Sloan, she thought on the way to the front door. Who knows what goes through that man's head sometimes? Dorrissa opened the door.

"Happy New Year!" shouted Becka, as if the clock had just stuck midnight.

"Happy New Year," answered Dorrissa, amiably. "I think your visit is supposed to be a surprise since Jack said out loud, who could that be?"

"We can take a hint, right girls?" said Becka. All three girls giggled uncontrollably. "These are my friends, Ashley and Constance. Girls meet Dorrissa, Jack's partner."

"Pleased ta meet cha," the girls replied together.

"Likewise I'm sure," said Dorrissa, in a slight, sarcastic tone.

The three girls standing before her were all stunning eye poppers. Ashley, the smallest of the three, was a captivating brunette with a short pixie style haircut. Constance, also a brunette, had long, tumbled-down hair.

"Please, come in."

The girls followed Dorrissa into the living room causing Sloan to stop dead in mid sentence. Jack chuckled to himself when he saw the panicked look on Sloan's face.

"Happy New Year!" shouted the girls.

Jack, ever the actor, faked a look of welcoming surprise.

"You boys know Becka. These are her friends Ashley," Dorrissa said pointing, "and Constance."

"Hey Jack. I told you last week that I might drop by and wish you and Dorrissa a Happy New Year. I guess you kind of forgot, eh?"

"Yea, but I thought you were just kidding."

"I thought I was too. But here I am. My girlfriends were over for a visit. I hope you don't mind me bringing them along?"

"Of course not, the more the merrier is my motto. Grab a seat. What can I get you girls to drink?"

"Anything," said Ashley.

"Anything wet and wild," laughed Constance.

"Just like you eh?" said Becka. "I'll have a rum and eggnog if you have it."

"Coming right up," said Jack.

Sloan's afternoon imbibitions, up to this point, had resulted in a mental stupor which lessened his inhibitions. The scotch being as mellow as it was, had allowed Jack to pour Sloan doubles without him even realizing it. Under normal circumstances Sloan would just get up and make a beeline for his room. Unfortunately for him he was beginning to feel all warm and fuzzy.

"So how was the New Year's Eve bash?" asked Becka.

"We had a blast," answered Jack.

"The last half anyway," corrected Dorrissa. "You should have seen him. The veritable, 'Cock of the Walk'. Head in the clouds, the media darling of the rich and famous. My Jack...The disappearing act, I didn't see him for the first half of the party."

"LIKE DUCKS!" said Jack, purposely trying to pretend he was stung by the accusation. "You didn't even miss me the whole time you were talking with your long lost buddy, the best teachmaster in the world."

"Teachmistress," corrected Dorrissa.

"And being all fancy-dancy with a complete goofball," continued Jack, all ready for a prolonged harangue.

"Did you say teachmistress?" asked Becka, with a puzzled expression of curiosity.

"Oh that's just what she liked to call herself. Miss Edwardianson was somehow different than all the other instructors. Definitely not run of the mill. I was always in awe of her presence. A sort of hero worship I guess. I still am to some extent."

"Not Susan Edwardianson?" said Becka, mouth agape.

"Why yes. Do you know her?" asked Dorrissa.

"Do I know her? Get out of here. She was my final preparation teachmistress also. I just loved the way she carried herself. No phony airs or false pretenses with her. Oh My Government, I can't believe it. Tell me, is she well? What's she doing now? Where does she live?"

"Oh geez, here we go. Old home week, cover your ears," said Jack.

Becka, who had been sitting on the couch beside Sloan, got up to sit beside Dorrissa and continue their vivid recollections of the past. Ashley, who had been sitting there, was chased away to Becka's spot.

"So tell me," Ashley paused, "it's Sloan, right? What do you do to keep busy?" Ashley asked sitting down beside him.

"Looks like you need a refill," Jack said, as he took Sloan's empty glass to the bar.

"I...ah...work at the Rank Institute. I'm updating and installing a new modern filing system that will increase productivity twofold," said Sloan.

Jack, still in earshot his hairs bristling on the back of his neck, thought to himself 'true to form'.

"That sounds pretty important," cooed Ashley.

Constance who had been sitting by herself in a chair, not to be outdone, got up and sat on the other side of Sloan. Knowing that Sloan was not yet drunk enough and unable to handle the onslaught of questions two woman on either side of him might pose, Jack quickly summoned Constance over to the bar. "Constance. Can you give me a hand over here? I'm trying to figure out what concoction will be wet and wild enough for you."

Constance, in a brash and bold manner, crossed the floor. "Let me help," she said confidently.

For the next few hours the talking, drinking and odd nibbling of snacks continued. Jack made sure that Sloan at no time was alone in conversation with both Constance and Ashley. He rightly feared that it would prove too much for him and Sloan would end up going to his room. When it was a quarter past seven Jack said, "Dear me, look at the time. We have to get ready to leave. Dorrissa and I have a dinner reservation for eight. Can we drop you girls somewhere? Gee whiz, I hope it doesn't make us late."

"We told our cab driver to come back and pick us up at eight. I didn't know you were going out to dinner. I'm sorry," said Becka.

"And I didn't know you were coming for a visit," lied Jack. "I suppose you could stay here until eight. It's too late to cancel your cab and expect to get another before then at this hour. Just don't wreck the place," laughed Jack. "And don't drink all my booze either," he added, jokingly.

Sloan, much too inebriated to stand up by himself, just sat there in a speechless haze. Jack and Dorrissa departed for their room to get ready. Becka called the girls over to the bar.

"I think this guy is way too intoxicated to get it up," whispered Constance, to the others.

"Oh come on, we can do him. What about you Becka?" asked Ashley.

"Forget it. He's not my type. Also, I've got to work with the guy. That's why I recruited you girls."

"Think of all the fun you're gonna' miss? A real live virgin, eh Connie?" said Ashley. "Ever have one before?"

"DUH! Not to my knowledge. Anyway, he doesn't look too lively to me," replied Constance."

"Yea, I guess I've seen them friskier," agreed Ashley.

"Think of it as a challenge," said Becka.

Jack and Dorrissa, having finished dressing, re-entered the living room. Dorrissa, upon seeing the women whispering in a huddle by the corner of the bar asked, "What are you girls conspiring about? Whether or not you can empty the bar before your cab arrives?"

"How did you guess?" said Becka, with cackling laughter.

"We have to be going now I'm afraid," said Jack. "Better not give Sloan anymore to drink. Maybe I should help him to his room. Sloan, we're going now," Jack shouted, partially awakening him from an alcoholic slumber. "Do you want me to help you to your room? Are you okay?"

"Naw, I'm fine," Sloan slurred. "Sa....ay maybe dat's a good idea." Sloan tried to get up but fell back down. "Soon...later...inawhile...Seeya," babbled Sloan, just before closing his eyes again and letting his head fall back on the couch.

"Oh Dear," said Dorrissa. "We'd better get him to his room."

"You go ahead. You don't want to be late. We can manage him. Have fun. See you at work tomorrow Jack. Bye Dorrissa. And do let me know when you go to visit Susan," said Becka.

"I will. Goodbye girls. Nice to have met you," said Dorrissa.

"Likewise," added Jack.

"Nice to meet you both," shouted Constance and Ashley.

Climbing in behind the wheel Dorrissa looked over and said, "If I didn't know you better Jack, I'd say you had this planned. Get that boy all liquored up, leaving him with those girls like that."

Jack looked over at Dorrissa with a sly, haughty smile.

"Jack, you didn't. I don't believe you. You're positively incorrigible," said Dorrissa, emphatically.

"WHAT? I said I'd drive them home."

Dorrissa eyeballed him suspiciously and then drove off. To her, Jack's look of cunning elusiveness had said it all.

Sloan, in a state of dazed confusion, opened his eyes to the explosive sound of shrill laughter.

"Wha' you doin' here?" he said

"We're waiting for our cab," said the girls.

Taking a few minutes to try and collect his thoughts, Sloan said, "I gotta go...to my room...get...some sleep."

He managed to push himself to his feet. Unsteady and stumbling, Sloan began to walk.

"Here, let us help you," said Constance and Ashley, as they grabbed him by the arms.

"No. Can do it myself," replied Sloan, as he attempted to shake himself free of their grasp. But they proved to be too much of a match for him.

"Don't be silly," said Ashley, eager with anticipation.

"My room izat da en of a hall," he said unwillingly, submitting himself to their overpowering assertiveness.

Helping him to his bed, Sloan flopped down as the two girls proceeded to undress him.

"Hey, whattaya doin?" asked Sloan, as he tried to hit their hands away.

"You can't go to bed with your clothes on," said Ashley, harboring a look of sheer delight.

With Constance pinning his hands, groggy in mind and body, he did not have the strength to fight and reluctantly gave in. Now completely undressed and with Constance on top of him, Ashley quickly stripped down. Changing places with Constance, Ashley climbed on top while Constance undressed.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?" Ashley asked, brazenly.

"Or two women?" said Constance, jumping naked onto the bed. "It's twice as much fun."

Sloan tried his hardest to buck them off as Ashley's fingers found his manhood. Slowly but surely, that which had once been called the staff of life awakened. Ashley, hot for the game, hopped aboard and took off. Constance busied herself with other parts of Sloan's anatomy. Becka waited a while then called for her cab. She had given the driver a previous retainer to remain on call and he was waiting to be summoned.

Jack and Dorrissa arrived at the Wainwright Center shortly after eight.

"We have a reservation for two. Jack and Dorrissa," said Jack, to a gregarious woman at the reservation desk.

"Oh I'm sorry but we only have a table for four available. You'll have to share," she replied.

Jack, bolstered in part by a few drinks under his belt, felt a disquieting belligerence starting to rise from within.

"I purposely made reservations on Friday morning so that we could exclusively dine alone this evening. It's a special occasion."

"New Year's Day is a special occasion for a lot of people Sir."

"Listen lady," Jack irascibly went on, "we are not here to partake in some ostentatious farm vacation!"

Bewildered and at a loss of words the woman looked at Dorrissa.

"Jack!" said Dorrissa sternly, stomping her foot down in an expulsion of fury. "I did not come all the way here just to turn around and go home again."

Dorrissa's body language alone had been enough to put this happening back into perspective. Jack apologized to the woman and they were led to their table. When they got there, Jack was dumbfounded. Sitting at 'their' table was Mr. Steven Laurence and his partner Ruth. Dorrissa had met them both briefly for the first time the evening before and had enjoyed their company immensely.

"Jack, Dorrissa," said Steven, graciously standing. "I hope you don't mind us barging in on you like this. I told them at the front desk that we would be dining with you but I insisted they not mention our presence."

"No, of course not," said Dorrissa. "What a lovely surprise it is. We are delighted to have you join us."

"When Jack was telling me about this place last night it sounded rather chic in an offhand way," said Steven. "I couldn't get it out of my mind so I suggested to Ruth that we come and surprise you. Judging by the look on your faces it seems that we succeeded."

"You certainly did. It's really nice to see you both again. I only hope the food lives up to its reputation. In any case, your company shall more than make up for it if it doesn't."

"Why Jack, what a sweet thing to say," commented Ruth.

Looking younger than her years, Ruth had grey hair which seemed to match twinkling, grey-blue eyes. You could tell that she must have been a veritable knockout when she was younger. Fashionably dressed with just a hint of makeup she complimented Steven greatly. They were life long partners of more than fifty years. Steven, also with grey hair but thinning, had green eyes and attractive, clear-cut features.

"I've been giving much thought to that obsolete super jail Jack," said Steven. "I firmly believe that it would be the perfect answer to your dilemma."

"What dilemma is that?" questioned Dorrissa.

Steven explained the talk that he had with Jack about his incessant traveling across the country reporting on Family Survival Groups and the opportunity provided by turning the antiquated compound into an encampment for these groups.

"Why Jack," said Dorrissa, "you never mentioned a thing about this to me?"

"I told him to keep it under his hat," said Steven. "That goes for you too," he told Dorrissa, pretending to be a tough guy. "There are a lot of details that need to be researched before a project of this magnitude can get the go ahead. I was thinking of procuring a government vehicle and taking a drive up there sometime this week to check it out. I was wondering if you would be interested in coming along."

"Would I!" exclaimed Jack. "But you being External Prime Minister, would that not be under Mr. Trandlore's jurisdiction?"

"You leave that to me. I have my sphere of influence when it comes to Ray. If he likes the idea he'll bend over backwards to see it reach fruition. Besides, he owes me. That job should have been mine a long time ago."

Their affable conversation continued throughout the course of the meal. Steven spoke of the property in the Northern Muskokas that Ruth and he rented for their retirement. He could not see Q. Raymond Trandlore ever rescinding the War Measures Act and relinquishing his power and position by switching places with him. It would just be a matter of time, in the not too distant future, when he and Ruth would retire to live there.

Jack liked Steven a lot. He felt Steven was a cut above other men that he had met. Jack also felt those feelings were reciprocated. While they were waiting for dessert to be served, Dorrissa and Ruth both left for the ladies room.

"Why do women always do that? Have you noticed?" asked Jack.

Steven chuckled.

"Go to the washroom in pairs? It is an age old custom my friend. It gives them a chance to bond, a chance to gossip. Probably about us no doubt, away from prying ears."

Jack laughed.

"Tell me Jack. That one-on-one conversation you had with Ray. What do you think of him?"

Never one to let his guard down with respect to his feelings, Jack somehow trusted Steven. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but a gut instinct told him that Steven was an honorable man.

"I'm not exactly sure Steve. I used to think of him as arrogant and self-centered. More like a dictator instead of a Prime Minister. But he gave me a glimpse I would never have imagined. He talked of his childhood and growing up. And why the government pursues the policies they do. I almost felt a sort of compassion for the man."

Steven listened impassively as Jack described his meeting with Mr. Trandlore and then spoke when he had finished.

"Ray can be very persuasive in his endeavors for sure, but make no mistake. He didn't become the Internal Prime Minister by mere chance. Not only is he a formidable foe, he can also be a perfidious friend. One that absolutely bears watching. I've been burnt more than once by his turbulent gestures and snide remarks. I happen to know that a few of the cabinet members, John Billarts in particular, have it in for you. You need to watch your back at all times. Of course you can count on me to be in your corner."

"Thanks very much Steve, I appreciate that. I kind of had a hunch about Billarts not liking me and all. I have no idea where he got the idea, why he came to the conclusion, that I was homophobic."

"I overheard Robbuster and Gadwinner talking," said Steven. "Apparently they were introduced to a young Crehu that resides with you. It was he who told them you were homophobic."

Aha, so that's it. All the pieces seem to fit together now, thought Jack.

"That would be Sloan. Thank Government he's shipping out in the morning. Just because I don't particularly like him he surmises that I'm homophobic. I guess if homosexuals were all like him that statement would definitely have a ring of truth to it. I'd like you to know that I happen to judge people on their personality and their deeds rather than their sexual preferences."

"As we all should," remarked Steven. "Oh, oh, the girls are back."

"Did you miss us?" asked Ruth.

"Indubitably so!" answered Steven.

"We missed dessert more," joked Jack.

"Oh, you're incorrigible," scolded Dorrissa.

After dinner the waitress brought the bill.

"I'll take that," said Steven. "It's the least we can do, barnstorming in on you the way we did."

Jack looked puzzled.

"Well this is a farm center, is it not?" Steven reasoned.

They all laughed.

Steven picked up his glass of white wine and toasted, "To enjoyable companions and new found friends."

The women hugged and exchanged phone numbers and goodbyes. The men shook hands.

"I'll call you about the trip," said Steven.

"I'm looking forward to it," replied Jack.

"Hey girls' our taxi is here," Becka called out. "We'll be out in a few minutes," Becka told the driver.

Constance and Ashley got dressed and came out of Sloan's room.

"How did it go?" asked Becka.

"Mission accomplished," replied Ashley.

"If that boy wasn't confused about his sexual persuasion before, he must certainly be now," said Constance.

"At first he tried hard to resist us but eventually he gave up. In spite of himself, that boy's sexual prowess is something else. Even when he's half in the bag," said Ashley.

"A friggin' animal," replied Constance. "I'd love to have him willingly take me sober."

"Too bad, you missed a good time Becka," Ashley stated, with a wide, perky smile.

"Thanks, but no thanks. Jack will be pleased though. Sloan doesn't know it was Jack's idea, does he?" Becka asked her friends.

"He has no knowledge of that whatsoever," said Constance. "I don't even think the poor boy knows what hit him."

"Way to go girls. Let's get out of here. Our taxi is waiting."

Sloan lay in his bed more confounded than ever trying to make sense of what had just happened. Those girls had initially forced themselves upon him but he ended up relenting and willingly took part. He kind of enjoyed it at the time but now felt so screwed up and ashamed. He was disgusted with himself at having been the ravished as opposed to the ravisher. What would Trent say? He must never find out. What if he found himself attracted to women now? Curse them! Curse them all! And curse Jack for allowing them here. If Sloan hated Jack before, and he did, his hatred of him now was so intense that it could never be surpassed by another. The die had been cast.

The hour was late when Jack and Dorrissa returned home. All was darkness and quiet as snow began to fall.

"Isn't it beautiful?" remarked Dorrissa.

"As long as I don't have to drive in it," said Jack.

"I guess the girls got off okay," she said.

"I'm sure they did," smiled Jack, at the possible double meaning that Dorrissa's statement inferred.

The morning siren greeted the day at seven a.m. as usual. Six inches of snow had fallen overnight.

"The Great White North has honored us with its presence once again," said Dorrissa looking out the window.

"Nuts. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I hope the plows have been out," said Jack.

Breakfast was now over yet Sloan had still not shown his face.

"Hey, you got your stuff packed? We've got to leave in ten minutes," Jack yelled from outside Sloan's bedroom door.

No reply. Jack pounded on the door for good measure.

"Hey. Did you hear me?" hollered Jack, still rapping away.

"I'm not deaf!" yelled Sloan.

"Then bloody well answer me. There's six inches of snow outside. I'm going to warm the car."

Jack took his keys from his pocket and started down the hall. Dorrissa, coffee cup in one hand, threw her set of keys to Jack.

"Oh Dear, would you mind?" she asked, coyly.

It was ten minutes on the dot, with not a second to spare, when Sloan emerged from his room with his bags. With a quickening pace, the grimacing victim of a hangover advanced down the hall and brushed passed Dorrissa while she was standing in the kitchen talking to Jack who had been impatiently looking at his watch.

"Sloan, I just wanted to say..." Dorrissa's sentence trailing off to an abrupt end as Sloan continued down the front entrance hall and out the door.

"What's the matter with him?" she asked, obviously quite piqued.

"I guess he doesn't like it here."

With a brisk peck on the cheek, Jack said to Dorrissa, "It's late. I've got to go. See you tonight. Love ya."

The resulting weather and treacherous driving conditions almost doubled the normal time required for Jack to drive to work. Of all the mornings for this to happen he thought. The atmosphere inside the car between Sloan and him was colder and more frigid than the temperature of the air outside. Sloan, under the pretense of sleep, did not utter a single word. That was just fine as far as Jack was concerned. While not averse to rubbing Sloan's nose in it if the previous night's escapades happened to surface it could get messy. Jack decided it was best to leave well enough alone. Let sleeping controllers lie as Mr. Smithington was prone to say.

When they finally got to work, after what seemed like an eternity, Sloan gathered his things and made a hasty departure for the building. Jack was quite dapper when he waltzed into his office that morning. Watching Sloan earlier as he scurried from his car with his bags helped to wipe away all the unpleasant memories of his past association with him, including the morning's commute. The only thing that could top it would be Sloan's transfer from the institute.

"Good morning Becka," Jack smiled, and winked at her as she handed him his coffee.

"My. Aren't we chipper this morning," said Becka.

"You bet. How did it go the other night?"

"From what the girls described, I think they might have produced a convert."

"Fat chance," said Jack. "But once is all it takes to go from homosexual to bisexual. From gay to bi, and with that in mind I'll say, bye, bye."

Becka followed Jack into his office.

"Hey. Not so fast. Don't you want to hear all the elaborate details?"

"Details, shmetails, I couldn't care less. The end result was realized and that's all that counts."

"He'll never forget this, Jack. A man always remembers his first time," laughed Becka.

"I'm counting on it," said Jack, joining in on the laughter.

"Don't forget. You owe me big time," reminded Becka.

"Lunch in the cafeteria?" asked Jack.

"You wish. I'll let you know when I think of something."

"Promises, promises," chided Jack.

The phone rang on Becka's desk.

"I'd better grab that," she said leaving. "Jack it's for you. On line two."

"I've got it! Hello, Jack 1145A12 here. What can I do you for?" he chuckled, still in a good mood.

"Hello Jack. Ava here, from Dr. Foxing's office."

Jack switched on the monitor. "Hi Ava, what's up?"

"Dr. Foxing would like to see you. It's nothing urgent. He just wants to go over your cholesterol levels with you. Your blood work came back and your LDL level is a bit high."

"Let me check my calendar Ava and I'll get back to you."

"Fine Jack, have a nice day."

Jack looked at his calendar and then buzzed Becka on the intercom.

"Becka, is this week's calendar up to date?"

"You betcha. You've a hearing scheduled for tomorrow that should take up most of the day. Possibly one for Friday morning also, but no Family Survival Group jaunts booked as yet."

"Jaunts eh?" said Jack, in retort. "Thanks," he added, peevishly.

Jack called Ava back explaining that Wednesday was out of the question. The rest of the week remained sketchy except for this afternoon and wondered if the Doctor could squeeze him in.

"How about two thirty?"

"That would be great Ava. See you then." Jack notified Becka to inform her of his afternoon departure and proceeded to work through his lunch hour until it was time for him to leave.

"Jack, how are you. This shouldn't take too long," said Dr. Foxing. "Your LDL cholesterol levels are showing an almost fifty per cent rise above what we consider normal for a man of your age and stature. Fortunately your HDL levels, which we consider good cholesterol, are also high helping to offset the bad. Now many doctors would put you on blood thinners to reduce clotting risks and medicine to lower those LDL levels.

However, since you are in almost perfect health otherwise I would like to see you do that with a combination of diet and exercise. That is the key to maintaining acceptable levels. Most prepared foods we eat nowadays are manufactured with cholesterol levels in mind. For the life of me I don't know how you manage to get them so high. You must be eating too much dairy."

"Yeah, I guess. Dorrissa and I have been eating out a lot lately also," said Jack.

"Eating out a lot? By Government I wish I had your money. Can you get me a job where you work? No, on second thought I wouldn't be able to report on those poor buggers like you do. It would tear me up inside. I refuse to watch it on the media screen. The government may deem them criminals but I just call them fool-hardy revisionists. Poor bastards!"

"Dr. Foxing. Remember that chest x-ray you sent me for?"

"Yes. It came out as clean as a bald man's head."

"Not that. I wanted to ask about the shoulder covering they place on you to protect the Dad Chip from the x-rays."

"Oh right. The covering is comprised of lead. Nothing can penetrate those suckers."

"Not even high definition microwaves, right?" asked Jack. "I mean, suppose a person, a Crehu, wore one of those. The government would be unable to monitor that person or destroy their Dad Chip."

"Hmm. I've never considered that. I suppose you just might be right. But you can't walk around wearing one of those without people noticing. Besides, it would be awful hard to get your hands on one. Or more than one," said the doctor.

"I guess," replied Jack.

"Having that chip inside you're body really bothers you doesn't it Jack?"

"Wouldn't it bother you? To be walking around day after day knowing at anytime with the flick of a switch you could cease to exist?"

"I guess it would," admitted Dr. Foxing, having pondered that fact. "It's interesting that you brought up the subject of lead shoulder coverings. I was just last month reading in a medical journal about this storage building that is standing vacant just north of the huge nickel mines in Sudbury. It was originally built to store nuclear waste from our country's reactors. It is entirely lined with thick lead sheeting to prevent escaping radiation. With the advent of hydrogen power generating stations it was not needed and mothballed right after completion, never having been used. The government has recently determined that there is a lot of older medical equipment needing to be disposed of. Equipment containing radioactive isotopes that is hazardous to humans. The article talks of re-opening this facility for the safe storage of this dangerous material."

"Do you have that article handy?" asked Jack.

"Yes, I'm sure it's here somewhere. Would you like to see it?"

"I'd like to make a copy of it if I may."

"You can have it if I can find it. I don't need it anymore. Just what are you thinking of Jack?"

"Say you and I were in that room together with the door closed, Dr. Foxing? You could remove the Dad Chip from me without any warnings going off in the Central Monitoring Division."

"Hold on now, Jack. I'm not completely certain this can be carried out without a hitch. You could be putting your life in danger. My life as well. I may be an old man but you my friend, you have everything to live for."

"It needs more checking into I'll admit. But if I can prove to you that it will be one hundred per cent effective can I count on your help?" asked Jack.

"As you like to say," smiled the doctor, "to be sure! Oh. Here's that article."

"Thank you Dr. Foxing. You're one in a trillion."

"Right, right, I know. Now get out of here will you. And watch that cholesterol. I want to see you back here in three months, no later, to have your blood work rechecked."

"If you don't see me sooner," said Jack, as he walked smiling out the door.

Chapter 6

The next morning, while thinking about his conversation with Dr. Foxing, Jack remembered that he had not checked on the official status of George and Dolly. Sure of George's demise, he would check on them both regardless. All pertinent details of humans and Crehus were listed on the government data bank. He began a search of their names but it was to no avail. This could only mean one thing.

When a person died, humans and Crehus alike, their names were removed from the data bank. Without a doubt, George and Dolly had been terminated. It grieved Jack immensely to think of their demise. He wished he could be their avenger but knew in reality there was not a thing he could do. Rather than dwell on the past, he must plan carefully for the future.

At the end of the day, when the hearing that Jack had been involved with was over, he returned to his office and received a message from Becka. Mr. Steven Laurence, External Prime Minister, would like Jack to call him. Jack keyed in the number and got Steven's secretary.

"Whom shall I say is calling?" she asked.

"Jack 1145A12."

"He's been expecting you. One moment please."

"Hello Jack?" said Mr. Laurence.

"Yes Steve. I got your message."

"Are you available tomorrow?"

"You bet I am."

"Good. I'll pick you up at nine at your house."

"Do you know where I live?" Jack asked.

"I'll find it. See you then," said Steven, ending their conversation.

"Wow. That's fast," Jack said out loud.

When Jack returned home that evening he told Dorrissa of his phone call with Steven. She shared in his excitement of the possibilities that could entail.

"Would this mean you do not have to go gallivanting across the country anymore?" asked Dorrissa.

"I wouldn't exactly call it that. But yes, that's what it will mean. Don't get your hopes up though. It's not a done deal. If it happens, it wouldn't be over-night."

"I don't care," said Dorrissa, hugging him tightly, "just as long as it happens."

Bright and early next morning the chauffeur from a government limousine knocked on Jack's door. Resplendent in manner and anxious in venture, Jack locked up and bolted for the car.

"Morning Steve," said Jack, climbing into the back as the chauffeur held the door open for him.

"You certainly are all smiles this morning," replied Steven. "Get lucky?" he asked jokingly.

Jack, feeling a blush come to his face, surprised at such a question, rebuffed Steven with the aw-shucks reply, "Heck. I can't help it if women find me irresistible."

Both men laughed good-naturedly.

"So tell me. What did Prime Minister Trandlore say when you told him of your idea?"

Before Steven could answer, Jack added, "I guess he must have liked it or we wouldn't be here right now."

"I haven't told him yet. I want to check out the site first to make sure that the idea is practical. Have you ever heard of the retirement village of Penetanguishene located on the shores of Georgian Bay?" asked Steven.

"Penetang? Yes. But I've never been there."

"That is where we are going. The old super jail is on its outskirts."

"What are these?" asked Jack. He pointed to a stash of badges in a mesh pocket by the portable bar.

"Those are regulation government security controller badges. These limousines all have them. Put one in your pocket. If you're accosted or bothered in any way by the public when you are walking around just whip it out and flash it before them. Tell them you are on government business and to move on unless they want to be brought in for questioning. It scares the hell out of them and works every time."

"You're kidding right?" asked Jack

"No way, I'm dead serious. When you are walking in public, perhaps asking questions, you need an authoritative voice. The badge works wonders. Of course it doesn't hurt that our driver is a plain clothes security officer and bodyguard. He's weapons ready if need be," said Steven.

"Thanks," said Jack, placing the badge into his coat pocket.

"You can throw it back in with the others when you leave," said Steven.

After what seemed a very short drive, much to Jack's delight, they arrived in Penetang and stopped for refreshments. They got to the old super jail just before noon. The driver got out, opened the gate, and drove into the main yard.

"That gate wasn't locked," said Jack.

"Why bother. This compound was built to keep people from breaking out, not in," replied Steven.

The two men spent a few hours touring the building. Although definitely in need of a decent cleaning, some paint and a little fixing up, it was relatively solid, in a good state of repair.

"I think this would do fine," said Steven. "I'll put a bug in Ray's ear about it when I see him tomorrow."

On the ride back they both talked as if they were old chums. Steven mentioned how fond Ruth was of Dorrissa even though having met her only a few days earlier. He was earnest when he spoke of their home in the Muskokas and how eager he was for the return of spring because it was so beautiful there.

Their home sat on a peninsula jutting out from a point on Lake Joseph, close to Foot's Bay, and accessible only by his private road. Jack asked how they would get on after retirement dealing with the occasional notorious winter storms that could spring upon you at any time. Steven replied that he and Ruth expected to reside in the Southern United States during the winter months. Possibly in Florida as they both enjoyed living near the water.

There were other retired people, Steven said, that lived just as remote all year long. Inaccessible only during major snowstorms, snowmobiles provided transportation if needed. A proper provision of supplies for these short periods of time being all that was required to get by in most cases but a bit more seclusion than either he or Ruth was accustomed to or looking for.

Jack asked Steven if he had ever been to Sudbury. He explained that an article he saw in a medical journal, while awaiting a routine physical, mentioned an abandoned building just north of there. Built to store radioactive waste from nuclear generating stations and never needed, it could possibly be used for storing similar medical waste.

Steven replied that many years earlier, when Jack was but a boy, he had been the Minister of Fisheries and Natural Resources and had extensively toured the area. He was aware of the building of which Jack spoke and that it was good to have found a proper use for it. With all the government red tape involved, he did not believe anything would come of the idea until summers end.

Steven asked Jack if he would like to be dropped off at home or at the Rank Institute. Without further contemplation, Jack asked if he could get a ride all the way to Toronto. To the Parliament Buildings would be great he had said. Sloan, who had been boarding with him, had blown his stereo speakers by turning the volume up full. Jack explained that he didn't need to get back to the office that afternoon. A direct ride to the city would save much time that could be put to good use shopping for new speakers.

Steven asked how he knew it was the speakers rather than the amplifier. Jack admitted that he didn't. But since the system was old, he would just replace it with something state-of-the-art. Steven said that he would be pleased to have Jack's company for the entire trip back.

"May I use the car phone?" asked Jack.

"By all means," replied Steven.

"Hello. Is this Gail?" inquired Jack.

"Hi. Is Dorrissa there?

"Hi Dorrissa, I'm with Steven.

"We're headed back to the City.

"You know the stereo system that Sloan wrecked? I want to purchase a new one.

"I know you'd like to be with me to help pick it out. Listen. With all the traveling I've been doing lately this seems like an opportune time to get it done.

"I promise that you'll like it. If you don't we'll take it back.

"The super jail? It looks great. It might be a go. We'll just have to wait and see."

"I do too. Look. I'll phone you when I'm ready to come back and you can meet me at the train station.

"I don't know. I'll call you.

"That's mutual. Bye, bye," said Jack.

"Major purchases are supposed to be done together, with your partner. Ruth would have my hide," kidded Steven.

"I know. I'm sure she'll understand after she thinks about it for a bit. It can't be helped," said Jack.

After thanking Steven and saying goodbye, Jack made his way to a store that specialized in stereo components and systems. That was his excuse for coming to the city. Not his intention.

He needed to see Shelly in the worst way. He needed a cadaver. With Shelly working at the morgue she could help him to obtain one. He hoped.

Having purchased his new system, it was still much too early to pay Shelly a visit. Jack had to wait around and kill some time. He might as well get something to eat. The food had been good at The Gastronome. That was not too far away.

"Hey, I remember you," said the man. "You're the big tipper. I've seen you on the screen."

It was Frank, the floor manager. I hope I have extra cash thought Jack.

"I'm by myself today. Just spur of the moment, passing by and all."

"That's what you said the last time you were here," laughed Frank. "But never mind. No problem. Follow me. Right this way."

"HEY!" complained a hard-faced woman of extra proportion. "We were here first."

"Do you know who this man is?" asked Frank, clearly exasperated.

The woman gawked awkwardly in ignorance at Jack.

"Of course you don't. Get back in line and stop your bellyaching if you know what's good for you. I'm sorry about that Sir. Please follow me."

Frank led Jack to a table for two and said that he was welcome without reservation at any time. Jack thanked the man and reached into his pocket to give him a little something.

"That isn't necessary Sir," said Frank.

"I insist," said Jack.

"Thank you Sir," said Frank, palming the money with expert discretion. "Enjoy your meal," he said, as he left the table.

It was just past eight when Jack reached the building where Shelly had her space. Not wanting to give her advance notice of his arrival, he waited patiently for someone to leave her building. When someone finally did, he held open the entrance door and dashed in. He made it up to her floor and noticed that the green light was out. She was home. He knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" was the curt response.

"Jack."

"Jack? Jack who?"

"I'm looking for Shelly," Jack replied, not sure of whom he was speaking to.

"This is her. Who are you?"

"It's Jack, Shelly. Dolly's friend."

"Oh. Jack. I have someone here," said Shelly.

"I need to talk to you. It's important."

Shelly opened the door a crack. It was held secure by a chain lock.

"What are you doing here? I never thought I'd see you again, except on the screen of course."

"I've got to talk to you. Who are you with?" asked Jack.

"Some man I met in a bar after work. It's a lonely life Jack. What can I say?"

"You don't have to say anything. Can you get rid of him?"

"That might be kind of hard to do. At least until he gets what he came for."

"Leave it to me," said Jack. "Just open the door."

Shelly seemed somewhat glad to oblige.

"You," said Jack, to a big burly man. Undressed from the waste up, he was sitting on the edge of Shelly's bed. "Get your clothes on and get out of here."

"Just who the fuck do you think you are little man," he said. He got up and moved closer to Jack in a threatening manner.

"My name is Jack and I'm a plain clothes officer for the Peoples Government."

The man paused, looking at Jack carefully. "Bullshit. You're that reporter jerk on the media screen. I recognize you now."

"That's only my cover. This woman is wanted for questioning about possible involvement in Family Survival Groups. Judging by your vulgarity and offensive menacing manner, I believe you might be involved also. You both better get dressed and come with me."

"Ya gotta warrant?" said the man, disbelieving.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Jack pulled out the badge he inadvertently forgot to put back when he had left the limousine. "This is all the warrant I need asshole. Get dressed!"

The pathetic looking man, his face ashen white the embodiment of fear, began to whimper in timid protest. "Please. I'm sorry. I don't know this woman. I've never seen her before tonight. Honest. Ask her. Please. Tell him you don't know me," the man cried.

"It's true. I don't know him. I never laid eyes upon him until this evening. You can let him go. It's me you want," said Shelly.

"Oh thank you. Thank you," howled the man, as he wallowed amidst his broken down faculties.

"What's your name?" Jack demanded.

"Kevin 176F16"

"You're a factory worker eh? Listen up. This is an undercover operation, as in secret. You catch my drift?"

"Yes Sir. Yes Sir," the man repeated, as he hurried to get dressed.

"If you tell anyone about this investigation before I'm ready to go public with it I'll know about it. The leak will get back to me and I'll know where it came from."

Borrowing a line from Mr. Trandlore, Jack said, "If that ever happens you shall feel my wrath and rue the day that you were ever created."

"I won't tell anyone Sir. I promise," pleaded the overwrought man.

"Get the hell out of here. Don't ever let me see your face again," threatened Jack.

"Yes Sir. I mean no Sir. I mean..." said the man as he fled the space.

"I'm impressed," said Shelly. "You were good. You even had me worried."

Jack let loose a most gratifying smile. "They say practice makes perfect."

"Why are you here?" asked Shelly.

"I need a warm body."

"You've certainly come to the right place good looking," enticed Shelly, trying hard to comprehend her good fortune.

"Not yours Shelly. Sorry," said Jack, letting her down easy, as Crehumanly possible, so as not to damage her ego. "I need a stiff."

"Pardon me?" she gasped, unmistakably astonished.

"I need a corpse, a body. Let me explain," said Jack. "Take a seat. I'm about to let you in on a Crehus worst nightmare. Everything I'm about to tell you is for your ears only. Our lives depend upon it. I would never involve you Shelly if I could get by in any other way without your help. But I can't. There is not enough time to search out alternatives.

"Remember our last conversation? Everything you theorized about the increasing demise of Crehus is, in reality, a fact. The Dad Chip implanted in us. It's not just for monitoring. High frequency microwaves can be targeted in on our particular D.N.A. causing the chip to melt down. It contains a highly toxic poison that renders a person helpless. Death is instantaneous."

Jack felt very confident in his trust of Shelly. She had told him so much, bared her feelings completely, the first time they had met. The fabricated story she had advised him to tell if questioned on his reasons for searching out George's disappearance had worked so well.

"Who told you that Jack?" Shelly asked.

"Let's just say a knowledgeable friend. I trust him, as I trust you, unconditionally."

"Jack. Were you questioned about George?"

"Yes. The story you suggested worked like a charm. They bought it hook, line and sinker. What about you?" Jack asked.

"Yes. I was questioned also. They seemed to believe me. I'm positive they don't know that we know each other. Jack. You said you need a body. It sounds like you have formulated some kind of a plan but I have no idea what it can be."

"Listen, Shelly. Anyone who tampers with these chips or tries to remove them will trigger an alarm back at the Crehu Monitoring Control Center. You are then automatically zapped, kaput, without a second thought. My friend has already attested to this happening. I am the only person he has confided in. If the government even suspected him of knowing what he does, he would assuredly disappear from the face of this earth. But I believe I may have stumbled upon a solution to remove the chip safely."

Jack told Shelly about the lead shield that hopefully would block out everything. He told her about the vacant storage building north of Sudbury. He needed a body. One that showed signs of accidental death or trauma that still seemed to have their Dad Chip intact. He would need to transport the body to that building somehow and remove the chip to test his theory.

"But how would you be able to do that without anyone knowing?" asked Shelly.

"Okay. All bodies delivered to you come by way of ambulance or hearse, correct?" asked Jack.

"They do in most cases. Sometimes they are dropped off in a government or controller's car."

"Okay. You report their deaths using their identity cards before you cremate them, right?"

"That's correct."

"So if you get a body here and don't report it, in all actuality that person is not dead. And don't use one brought in by a control or government car whatever you do!"

"Jack please," deadpanned Shelly, "give me a little credit here. Technically speaking, a body not reported as dead would still be thought of as living. You're right."

"Great. So when you get a body in that matches what I need you call me and I'll come and get it. It's the only real way to find out if it works."

"There seems to be a few holes in your plan Jack, if I may speak freely."

"Please. Go ahead."

"First. What if the microwaves are only triggered to self destruct in a living, breathing Crehu? Second. If I know my geography, Sudbury is a long way off. What if by some coincidence the Crehu you are transporting was being monitored prior to you receiving him or becomes monitored on the way there? What if someone else, without our knowledge, files an end of life termination report on that particular Crehu naming it as deceased? Because the morgue did not officially report it, the monitoring center begins monitoring it. Lo and behold. The person is alive and seems to be traveling to Sudbury."

"WOW! I guess there are more angles to this than I imagined," said Jack.

"That's okay. They say that two heads are better than one. Hey. I just got an idea. What if I try removing a chip at the morgue right before the body heads off to the crematorium? If it self destructs we'll know that the death of a Crehu does not affect the chip's performance.

"What if it remains intact?" asked Jack. "Or what if they self destruct on the ordinary natural death of a person as soon as they stop breathing."

"One thing at a time," replied Shelly. "There is only one way to find out about the intrinsic properties of the Dad Chip. That's by experimentation."

"If it self destructs they are bound to send someone out to investigate," continued Jack.

"At the morgue?" questioned Shelly. "If that is the case the evidence will be destroyed. The body will be in the oven and long consumed before they ever arrive."

"Just the same, it could be dangerous."

"Everything is dangerous Jack. We're talking about mere minutes here compared to your proposed journey to Sudbury. Now that I know the truth about this chip I want the damn thing removed as much as you do. I need a contact line, safe and secure, to get in touch with you."

"There is a neighbor's house a few doors down. They are gone until April. I have a key to check on the place once and awhile. That phone line is definitely secure," said Jack.

"Good. Can you be there for a certain time each night? I don't know when I'll call you but when I do I will let it ring only once. If you're not there I will hang up."

"How about nine p.m. sharp?"

"Perfect," said Shelly. "What's the number?"

Grabbing a pen and paper, Jack wrote the number down for her.

"I'll memorize this then destroy it."

"I'd better be going. I've got to catch the train and phone Dorrissa. She has to meet me at the station because my car is still at home."

"Ah. Dorrissa. I guess that means there is no chance for a sailor's goodbye?"

"You're a sweet woman Shelly. I wish there was some way I could raise your rank so you would be able to meet a better class of men."

"You know Jack, that whole rank thing is complete bullshit?"

"I know Shelly. I know."

"Just last week I saved a man's life. He collapsed on the sidewalk in front of my building and I gave him mouth to mouth. Just because a person has a low rank in life doesn't mean they don't have a good heart. Higher class citizens walked right by."

"Was that reported Shelly?" asked Jack. He sat up straight on the edge of his seat.

"It must have been. An ambulance came and took him away to Blake Central."

"That's grounds for a rank review," said Jack, rather excited.

"Not with my luck."

"That reminds me," paused Jack. "Before I go, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you have to know."

"What?" Shelly asked. Her face was etched with disquieting concern.

"I ran a search on the data bank in relation to the whereabouts of Dolly. It registered zero. No status at all. I'm afraid she's gone."

"No! No!" cried Shelly.

With impassioned tears and wrenching sorrow she bowled over in heartbreaking grief.

"I loved that woman as I love myself," she sobbed. "My best friend, my confidant, we grew so close. Why? Why?"

Jack took hold of Shelly, drew her close into his arms to comfort her, to share the pain with her. He truly felt it also. Dolly had been a friend, a very good friend. The slightly pungent scent of Jack's cologne, intermingling with his natural body odor, permeated the depths of Shelly's inner senses with orgasmic delight. It had been so very long since she was held by a man that she actually cared for and genuinely wanted to be with.

"Jack," asked Shelly softly, "could you lie with me a bit? Before you go?"

Placing his arms on Shelly's shoulders he gently pushed her back. Looking deep into her eyes with a mixture of pain and regret Jack said, "You know I mustn't. If I wasn't partnered it would be a different story. Wild horses couldn't drag me away. I've really got to go now."

Shelly handed him the government badge that he had placed on her side table. "Here. Don't forget this. You never know when you may need it again. Don't expect a call until Monday at the earliest."

With one short final hug and a kiss on Shelly's cheek, Jack opened the door to leave.

"Jack," said Shelly. "Thanks."

Turning back he saw a solemn yet tranquil look on her face. With a quizzical look on his own he asked, "For what?"

"For being there, for your friendship, but most of all for saving me," said Shelly.

Frowning in wonder and even more confounded, Jack asked, "From what?"

"From a night of regret," she answered.

It was close to eleven when Sloan drained the last drop from his glass of scotch. He had found a local watering hole not far from the space he resided in. A mixed establishment, heterosexual by all accounts, he didn't relish the thought of entering a gay bar without Trent by his side. The temptation to partake of other fruits might be too great for him to withstand. Trent was working the afternoon shift at Blake Central and had been unable to join him.

Sloan couldn't help but notice that whenever a really pretty girl strolled by he would always look twice. This newly acquired compulsive attitude repulsed him. One particularly gorgeous blonde had approached him earlier on and had tried to make small talk with him. He had managed to rebuff her and thought he did a pretty good job. Still...

On the way back to his space, which he had occupied on Monday night and was not far from either Trent's space or the Parliament Buildings, Sloan happened to glance across the street. A crowd was emerging from the underground exit of the subway. Blinking in astonishment, there right across from him, was Jack. What was he doing in the city this late at night? He seemed to be by himself. Carefully, so Jack would not observe him, he followed from a distance. Jack made his way to the train station and made a phone call before boarding the train. This was very interesting. Very interesting indeed, thought Sloan.

"Where have you been? I was worried half to death," said Dorrissa, as Jack climbed into the car. "It's almost midnight."

"That entertainment center, they had so many models to choose from. I didn't want to disappoint you and couldn't make up my mind. By the time I made a decision it was late and I was hungry. So I stopped for a bite to eat."

"Don't you ever, ever, do that again. You call me and let me know what's going on."

"I'm sorry," apologized Jack. "It won't happen again, I promise."

The next morning, Becka was nervously waiting for Jack at the office. He did not get in until ten o'clock.

"Mr. Smithington wants to see you right away," said Becka. "He sounded upset."

Here we go again thought Jack. So I'm an hour late, big deal. Arriving at Mr. Smithington's office, Jack knocked on his door.

"Come in," a harsh voice resonated from the other side.

"You wanted to see me Sir?"

"Take a seat Jack. You weren't in the office yesterday. Can you tell me where you were?"

"I was out with Prime Minister Laurence for most of the day."

"I gathered that from talking to your secretary. Doing what?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Smithington. I'm not at liberty to say. It's confidential."

"Confidential my ass," yelled Mr. Smithington. "This is my department and I have a right to know what's going on."

"You'll have to ask Mr. Laurence, Sir."

Mr. Smithington, in an increasing state of vexation, studied Jack's poker face in acute dismay. "I'm disappointed in you Jack. I've always thought of us as a team here at the institute."

"It doesn't concern the institute Sir. It pertains strictly to my appointment as a Family Survival Group investigator."

"You're an investigator Jack? You are an investigator now? When did that take effect? No one told me of your new title. I thought you were only a media spokesperson, an intermediary between the government and the people."

"That's what I meant. It was an improper choice of words."

"Is that what you were doing in the city late last night? Investigating? Or were you perhaps undertaking some self-professed detective work of your own again, apart from your job or appointment. I can find out you know. You're sailing in extremely dangerous and uncharted waters my friend. I thought I mentioned that to you during our previous talk."

Jack held firm ground. He knew the old man's mode of operation. Try to draw you out. Expose your underbelly, your Achilles heel. Jack would have none of it. The old man was bluffing. He was on a fishing expedition, nothing more. If he new anything at all about his meeting with Shelly or the man in her apartment he would have sprang on him by now. All Smithington's cards were on the table already and fortunately for Jack, they added up to a losing hand.

"You can interrogate me all you want Mr. Smithington. I have nothing to hide. It is obvious someone saw me in the city and reported it to you. I was merely shopping for a new stereo system. My previous boarder, I'm sure you know since he works in this building, inadvertently trashed mine when I was away on that three day vacation you gave me. It's toast. I received a ride into the city from Mr. Laurence exclusively for that purpose. You can check with him. You can check with Sloan. You can even check with the store I purchased it from. Holden Entertainment Systems, the best and biggest in the city."

"That took you until eleven at night?"

"Have you ever been in that store?" said Jack, without skipping a beat. "Do you know how many different systems there are? After choosing one I was hungry. So I got something to eat. Then I got indigestion wondering if I had chosen wisely. So I took a walk. Walking in the cold night air helps my digestion as well as clearing the senses. You should try it some time. I think yours might need some clearing," Jack added, deciding it was now time to take the offensive.

"Don't you get sarcastic with me young man!" bellowed Mr. Smithington, angrily. "I'll have none of your backtalk in my office."

"Excuse me Sir. I apologize," said Jack, knowing where to draw the line. "But let's call a spade a spade here. You know me better than that. To think of all the years I've worked here. Asking me questions that border on imputation."

"Humph. Regardless of that it is my job, no my duty, to ask you such questions. I shall not tolerate any ill repute or suggestive misconduct tarnishing this institution in any way. Not while I'm in charge."

"I understand Sir. Is there anything else you want to know?"

"There are lots of things that I'd like to know but I don't, for the life of me, see any bountifully significant answers forthcoming from you. You're excused for now."

"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir."

"Oh. There is one more thing?"

"Yes Sir?"

"You have to be in Edmonton this afternoon by four p.m. No time to pack I'm afraid. Your flight leaves at one. Yet another Family Survival Group has been uncovered. The damn things are breeding like rabbits. There is a round trip ticket waiting for you at the flight departure booth."

"Very well Sir," said Jack, as he left Mr. Smithington's office.

What Jack didn't know, and Mr. Smithington had failed to tell him, was that Mr. John Billarts the National Defense Minister had phoned him directly. He had phoned first thing in the morning to enquire why Jack was in the city at such a late hour. Sloan, Mr. Billarts 'boy' as he liked to call him, had contacted Mr. Billarts as soon as he arrived at work. Mr. Billarts asked Sloan to keep his eye out for peculiarities and Sloan was especially happy to oblige him.

When Jack got back to his office he phoned and told Dorrissa the bad news about Edmonton. She was understandably upset. She cherished her weekends with Jack and a Friday afternoon departure undoubtedly meant a weekend, for the most part, away from each other. Quite busy at work, Dorrissa had to decline Jack's offer to take the rest of the day off and try and book a seat to go with him. Next time she promised. It was too short notice she had said and bid Jack a safe journey. This would probably be a good time to visit Susan she thought a while later. She would call her during lunch hour.

When Dorrissa did call, Susan was surprised to hear from her so soon. She wasn't really sure if Dorrissa would take her up on her extended invitation. Susan said she would love to see her of course. They had gotten along fabulously on New Year's Eve but there was a slight problem. She was having a few friends over for the evening and tomorrow morning was leaving and would be away for the rest of the weekend.

Susan's talk with Dorrissa on New Year's Eve led her to think that Dorrissa might enjoy meeting her friends. Susan believed that they all shared common interests. If Dorrissa would like to visit tonight, Susan would be more than happy to have her. Taken in by the warmth and sincerity of Susan's proposal and intrigued by the possibility of meeting new people, Dorrissa agreed to come. She did not mention to Susan about the possibility of bringing Becka along. Providing Becka could make it of course. If she could, Dorrissa decided she would surprise Susan. Just because she herself didn't fancy surprises did not mean that others didn't.

Later that same afternoon, thinking about Jack and how he must already be in Edmonton, Dorrissa phoned Becka to say she was going to visit Susan that evening and was wondering if she would like to join her. It was a no-brainer. Becka jumped at the chance. Dorrissa would pick her up at her place of residence at six p.m. They would grab something to eat on the way.

Susan lived in an old farm house on fifty acres of land on the western side of Lake Simcoe. It was a twenty minute drive north of Dorrissa's house. When Susan's partner, an eminent cardiologist known far and wide for his skill, had died, he left an estate of immense wealth. Since everything would revert to the government with her passing, Susan was adamantly determined to whittle it down so there would be next to nothing remaining. While having no love for the Peoples Government, she was careful to stay in its good graces by making sizable donations to governmental public work projects from time to time.

No stick in the mud herself, Susan was renowned as a pioneer in her profession and had written two books on the subject before taking early retirement. Every teachmaster of any significance owned both copies. Well loved by everyone who knew her, she pretty much came and went as she pleased. It was seven-thirty when Dorrissa finally knocked on her door. Alice, Susan's companion, answered.

"Hello Alice. It's nice to see you again. I believe Miss Edwardianson is expecting me," said Dorrissa.

Alice looked most uncertain as if she did not know what to do. "Yes she is. But who is that with you?"

"This is my friend Becka. I didn't know it but Becka was also taught by Miss Edwardianson. I brought her along for a surprise. Becka is dying to see her again."

"Oh my, this won't do," said Alice, clearly alarmed.

"Is there a problem? I didn't think Susan would mind," said Dorrissa, somewhat stunned.

Becka, not sure what to say, remained silent.

"You'll have to wait here a moment," said Alice, and she closed the door.

"What's going on?" asked Becka.

"I don't have the faintest idea. I guess we'll find out in a minute."

The door reopened with Susan standing in front of them.

"Dorrissa. How nice to see you again. But you've brought a friend," said Susan, in a perplexed tone.

"Miss Edwardianson. It's me!" said Becka, throwing her hands in the air and jumping up and down in child-like glee.

"Becka. So it is. I had no idea that you two knew each other."

"I'm sorry Susan. I guess I should have called. I didn't think you'd mind. You knowing Becka and all," said Dorrissa.

Becka, all of a sudden, sprang forward and threw her arms around Susan in an excited hug. "Oh. Miss Edwardianson. You can't imagine how many times I've often thought of you. I have each of your books and I've read them both three times cover to cover. You're my bona fide hero."

"Heroine," corrected Susan. "It's nice to see you too Becka. I don't know what to say."

"Perhaps we should go. You have other guests. It was inexcusable for me to bring Becka without calling first. I apologize."

Susan studied the situation thoroughly. Becka had been one of the last students she had taught and was outstanding amongst her peers and a constant high achiever. Becka's effervescent exuberance of extreme and honest emotion led Susan to believe that she could be trusted. But her other guests mustn't be made to feel ill at ease. It would be up to them to make the call.

"Please come in. And you young lady," placing her finger on Becka's nose and smiling, "must call me Susan. Miss Edwardianson just won't do."

The two women followed Susan into an old fashioned parlor that ran off the main hallway. The other people in the room looked up politely.

"What a beautiful home you have here," said Dorrissa.

"Yes. It is quite nice. I enjoy the remoteness of its location. It has been in my late partner's family for nine generations and rather unfortunate that it can not continue. Did you have any trouble finding it?" Susan asked Dorrissa.

"No. Not at all," said Dorrissa. "Your directions were superb."

"I'd like to introduce you to my guests," said Susan, as the people in the room stood up to greet them. "This is Howard and his partner Meg, Timothy and his partner Elaine, Ryan and his partner Wendy, and Eloise, Monica, Rhonda, Hope and her partner Paul, and of course, my companion Alice. Everyone please meet Dorrissa and her friend Becka. They are two former students of mine that I had the lovely pleasure of teaching. Dorrissa's partner is away on business but perhaps we shall meet him another time. I'm not sure about Becka. Are you partnered at the moment with anyone Dear?"

"No. I'm not quite legal yet. I'm only twenty-four. But there is no one waiting in the wings I might add."

"Please everyone, take a seat. Alice. Would you be a dear and bring Dorrissa and Becka some refreshments?" asked Susan.

"Coming right up," replied Alice, on her way to the kitchen.

"She's such a big help to me. I don't know what I would do without her."

"So Dorrissa," said Elaine. "Susan tells us that you work in a birthing lab."

"Yes. I'm superintendent in charge of creation at the Wycliffe Center."

"That must be a very rewarding experience. Matching the cells of a future generation of Crehus and watching them grow into adulthood," said Eloise.

"Well. Not entirely," answered Dorrissa. "I only watch them as they develop in our birthing lab. My staff monitors them so there are no problems. At the end of the initial nine month growth period they are sent to the child rearing center located in the same complex. I deliver infants that have been created by the best possible matches I can make. After that it's all up to them."

"How do you determine that those matches are indeed the best possible matches?" asked Howard.

Dorrissa went on to explain that she has instituted a system whereby all matches conceived by her staff must first be approved by her personally before they can go ahead. Timothy asked if that was a usual occurrence for a person in her capacity as superintendent to do. The answer was no. She was not aware of any other superintendent that got involved to that extent. But that could only be beneficial for her. Dorrissa said she intended to produce the best selection of Crehus out of all the birthing labs in the country.

"And just how can you do that?" asked Eloise.

"I research not only the information supplied by the donor at the time their cell samples were taken but also where they are today. In terms of employment, rank standing, partnering, whether they are a model citizen, things like that," said Dorrissa.

"What do you mean by partnering?" asked Monica. "Some of us have no partners."

More comfortable in front of Susan's guests, no doubt encouraged by Susan's presence, Dorrissa felt free to speak her mind openly. "The majority of us sitting here, with the exception of Susan, are first generation Crehus. Only Becka, Rhonda, Monica and Eloise are second generation," said Dorrissa. The women's identity cards as well as their young looks clearly showed that. "I would also be inclined to believe that you are all heterosexual. Or is that something that shouldn't be broached."

"No. That's okay," replied Susan. "I'm sure none of us take offense. And yes your guess is right."

Dorrissa explained that in her opinion many second generation Crehus were showing signs of being more obnoxious and opinionated than their predecessors. Thinking of the recent fiasco of hosting Sloan, Dorrissa said she was almost certain that same sex individuals were even more so. For this reason she would try her utmost to curtail the proliferation of same sex cell matches in her birthing lab. Besides she reasoned, same sex individuals did not have a natural urge for procreation. If they had they would have turned out heterosexual so why should she help them along.

"But many same sex individuals are in top levels of government," said Howard. "It's fairly common knowledge that our government considers them superior to others in terms of leadership," he added.

"Yes. Many of them lack morals and conscience. They are perfect for governing. Wouldn't you say?" was Dorrissa's reply, coated with a hint of explicit sarcasm.

"But you work for the government. How can you get away with what they would call discrimination?" asked Paul.

"Very carefully," whispered Dorrissa, in mocked tone, "by not bringing attention to myself. Don't kid yourself. The government discriminates all the time. Look at those poor Family Survival Groups that they continue to persecute. Danger to society my ass; all they want is to have their cells matched with their partner's and raise their own children. In my opinion," said Dorrissa, "anyone wanting to have children that much should be allowed to. They would definitely do a better job than some of our new generation of teachmasters. Again that's a whole other issue. Gee look at me. If someone walked in right now they would think we were a Family Survival Group," kidded Dorrissa, amidst restrained and nervous laughter.

"Family Support Group is what we call them," said Susan.

"Where do you work Becka?" asked Rhonda.

Becka had been sitting by Dorrissa incredulously wide-eyed at the words she had been spouting. Did Jack know that his partner held such strong anti-government views? He mustn't she thought. Becka wished that she was anywhere but here.

"I work at the Rank Institute. I'm Jack's, that's Dorrissa's partner, secretary."

"I hate that name," said Wendy. "It's nothing personal," she added, seeing Dorrissa's expression. "It's just that there is this government advocate on the media screen named Jack. He goes all over reporting on Family Support Groups. You must have seen him."

Becka looked at Dorrissa in startled wonder. Dorrissa's body language and predominate stare told her not to say a thing.

"Yes I have," replied Dorrissa. "It's possible that he is just doing it because it's his job. Much like I do. My personal views are certainly no reflection of the government's as you rightly know. Perhaps his views are similar. You can not judge a book by its cover."

"That's true," said Ryan. "What does your partner do at the Rank Institute?" he asked.

"He sits on the Rank Review Committee," said Dorrissa, cautiously.

"Yes. Anyone that has their rank raised or lowered has it done by the committee," said Becka.

"I'm sure we are all aware of that," replied Ryan.

"Well the time is running late people," said Susan. "Paul and Hope have brought a couple of very old shows for us to watch. The date on them states that they were produced more than one hundred years ago. Fortunate for us there is an old fashioned player in the attic that still works marvelously. If you would all like to follow me up. The attic is not large but it has been finished and is quite comfortable."

"Oh My Government!" exclaimed Becka, in shocked disbelief. "You're a Survival Group!"

"Please. No foul language," said Susan, disapprovingly. "And don't call us that. We are a Support Group as I've previously mentioned. Do either of you have a problem with that?"

"What if the government catches us? We'll all be sent to prison." said Becka, almost in tears.

"I knew we shouldn't have allowed them in here," said Howard.

"Now we're in for it," agreed Wendy.

"Shush up now. All of you," said Susan. "I assure you both, Dorrissa and Becka, that you are quite safe here. If you don't wish to remain I understand. As I'm sure the others do. My only request is that you tell no one of your encounter here this evening."

Dorrissa by now stimulated with intrigue, a forbidden hint of danger mixed with a genuine inquisitiveness, led her to say, "Oh come on Becka. We'll be fine. I've always wondered what went on at one of these meetings and now is our chance to find out."

Becka, mustering all the courage she could bolster, got up and followed Dorrissa and the rest of the group to the upstairs attic.

"It's quite alright Becka. Trust me. No one has ever come here without an invitation. No one, certainly not the government, would ever suspect or have the slightest inkling of my involvement with a Family Support Group," said Susan, trying to soothe her fears.

"You are in a very remote area," said Dorrissa

"Precisely," said Susan. "Come. You girls shall sit on either side of me and we shall enjoy the show."

The first program that they watched was a show called the Brady Bunch. That was followed by one called Eight Is Enough. Both Dorrissa and Becka had never in their lives seen anything quite like it. Awe-struck at first, as they watched and listened to the banned material it soon became charming and delightful. When the viewing was finished the group discussed the shows. After tea and coffee cake and more conversation it was time to leave. Becka, although much more at ease as the night progressed, was still feeling queasy at the thought of it all. For Dorrissa, on the other hand, it had been an exhilarating experience and she had become entirely hooked.

Appealing to her incorrigible, rebellious nature, the compelling thought of being part of a secretive protective group was too alluring to dismiss. The people were not only friendly but the stimulating conversation that took place proved them to be highly intellectual as well. Never mind their rank. Shoving risk aside, Dorrissa looked forward to the next time they could get together. She made it clear to Becka in no uncertain terms that Jack was not to know about the group or the group to know about Jack.

If Becka was of a mind not to revisit that would be fine. Due to the lateness of the hour Dorrissa asked Becka to stay over. Becka obliged. It was just what she needed after such a harrowing ordeal.

Both Dorrissa and Becka ignored the morning siren electing to sleep in until noon. After showering and dressing, Dorrissa rapped on Becka's door for a wakeup call and said that she was going to prepare some breakfast for them both. Enjoying a leisurely, tranquil chat for most of the afternoon, Dorrissa could see that Becka had definitely lightened up. Feeling secure in the comfort of Dorrissa's home and company allowed for the return of her usual bohemian personality. By the time she dropped Becka off at her residence Dorrissa felt sure she had found a kindred spirit and potential convert. It would be nice to have a gal pal along on her adventure she thought. On the way back home Dorrissa stopped off at the food allocation center to pick up a few items. In case Jack arrived home before her, groceries were a good alibi to say where she had been. It was just as well. Jack's car was in the driveway when she returned.

"Hello Darling," said Dorrissa, upon her entrance.

"Where were you?"

"Duh? Obviously at the food center silly. Or can't you tell. But don't get any ideas. I thought we could dine out tonight."

"LIKE DUCKS!" exclaimed Jack? "The last thing I want after being away for two days is to go out. I need to relax. Smoke a number. Take the edge off the day. Care to join me? I was just about to light up."

"Sure. I was only kidding about dining out anyway."

They stepped out onto the balcony. Jack lit the joint, inhaled deeply, and passed it to Dorrissa.

"So where did that saying come from? You're the only person I have ever heard use it?" asked Dorrissa, before inhaling.

"What saying?" Jack drawled as he released the smoke from his lungs.

"Like Ducks?" clarified Dorrissa.

"When I was a kid I had a teachmaster that said it whenever he knew something wasn't on the level. I guess it sort of stuck with me. I kind of like it."

"Me too," laughed Dorrissa.

"So where were you?" asked Jack.

"I told you."

"Not now. I mean last night. I called but there was no answer."

"What time?"

"I called around ten."

"Sorry Jack. I was absolutely beat yesterday. Probably from being bored and lonely. I hit the sack early. Didn't hear a thing."

"Hmm," murmured Jack, with a wry smile. "I'm kind of tired myself come to think of it. I could probably use a bit of a nap."

Dorrissa recognized that look right away.

"Come on," she said. "I'll tuck you in."

On Monday morning Jack enquired about Becka's weekend. In compliance with Dorrissa's wishes she replied, "Same old, same old."

It was mid morning when he got a call.

"Hello Jack."

"Steven. Hi. Did you have a good weekend?"

"Yes thanks. How was the Edmonton trip?"

"It came off without a hitch. It's nice to be back though."

"Listen, Jack. I ran that idea by Ray."

"And?" said Jack, holding his breath.

"He's all for it. It's a go."

"Ya! You've just made my day Steve."

"Everything's being put into motion as we speak. Ray doesn't want anything elaborate done. Not for those traitors, as he calls them. We just have to bring the building up to snuff. The work will still take a couple of months though."

"Who cares? I don't mind waiting. Is it okay if I call Dorrissa to tell her the good news?"

"Sure, replied Steven. "There will be an announcement on the media screen later in the day. Congratulations. No more traveling. Talk to you later."

"You're the one that should be congratulated. Thank you so much Steven. Bye."

Jack was exhilarated. He was bursting at the seams. Unable to contain the overpowering excitement within him, he let out a raucous whoop.

Becka came running in. "What's wrong?" she shouted, in frenzied concern.

"Not a thing. Everything's right for a change. Perfect," said Jack, in a state of boundless good cheer. "I have to call Dorrissa. She'll want to be the first to hear. You can be the next."

Jack called Dorrissa at her office. If anyone could be happier than him to hear the news it would be her. Penetang, short for Penetanguishene, was little more than an hour from their home. Nothing could be better. Becka congratulated Jack later upon hearing of his good fortune. Things were indeed looking up.

That evening, while relaxing at home, Dorrissa asked Jack to make a list of people he thought were of good character and firm moral fiber. She explained it away as a sort of game to see which one of them could come up with the most names that each agreed upon.

"Let's see how many of the same people we put on the list," said Dorrissa.

It was a weird idea. But harmless thought Jack. He played along.

Dorrissa had conceived an earnest, tentative plan. Thinking more and more of the qualities she desired to see in a new generation of Crehus, and impatient to begin the process of their own cell creation, Dorrissa decided to add matching samples from friends and acquaintances she deemed to be of good character. All would go through the finalization process together and would be transferred to the child rearing center before years end.

She would tell no one of her plan for fear of it being found out. It would be another secret added to her seemingly long list. For someone who had never been known to be secretive it was starting to become a habit. The rationalization of 'what must be done, must be done' took over. She would tell Jack when the time was right.

Jack meanwhile, carefully watching the time, excused himself after giving his list to Dorrissa. He promised he would check a neighbors' house periodically until they returned home. It had been a while since he had done so. He would be back momentarily he said.

Dorrissa poured over the names on their combined lists. From Jack's there were people he worked with. There was David, Becka, Mike, Dainora, Tom, Liz, Henri, Louie and Monica. He also included the names of Charles Jacobstown (their local member of Parliament), Dr. Foxing, Ava (the doctor's nurse/receptionist), Steven Laurence and his partner Ruth, Shelly, and a few local neighbors that they both new. Who is Shelly she wondered?

Her list included Gail, Mickey, Toni, Dan, Karl, Ron, Wayne, Gary, Mary and Ricky all from work. Kathy from the food allocation area was a possibility. She also included Susan Edwardianson and her companion Alice. Dorrissa definitely planned on including the names of Susan's Support Group members on her list but didn't write them down thinking that Jack would question them.

Jack let himself into the neighbor's house just in the nick of time. The phone rang and he answered it.

"Jack?" he heard Shelly ask.

"Yes. It's me."

"Is everything secure?" she asked.

"You bet," he answered.

"Last Friday night a body came in. It was a young woman who had apparently sustained a fall, hitting her head and dying simultaneously. I made an incision just below the armpit to remove the chip just as you had suggested. Before I had a chance to touch it, the chip dissolved in a matter of seconds. Right while I was watching."

"Did the government officials come?" asked Jack.

"Did they? Did they ever! They must have been there within fifteen minutes. I barely had enough time to place the body in the crematorium."

"What did they say?"

"They said they received an alarm at the monitoring headquarters pertaining to this particular woman. I said she was dead when she got here. That she was in the crematorium and I gave them her identity card."

"Anything else?" asked Jack.

"They were pretty pissed off that they couldn't view the body. The guy in charge said an alarm had been set off and that had never happened before in relation to a stiff. I told them the woman was heavy-set and I accidentally dropped her body on the conveyer belt. I said her under-arm received a gash from the sharp metal edge."

"Did they buy it?"

"Not at first. They wanted me to show them where it happened and asked why there was no dried blood residue. I said I wiped the conveyer down and threw the cloth in with the body to be burned. Then they filled out a report that had to be filed in such instances and I had to sign it. It was all pretty scary stuff. While I was doing that one of them found trace specks of blood on the conveyor. The D.N.A. matched the woman's. Consequently I was exonerated. Then they left. I have not heard back from them so hopefully everything is fine."

"I'm sorry to have had to put you through all that," said Jack.

"Don't be. It was my idea, remember."

"Just the same, this verifies what I was told so we know that it is true."

"But how are we going to check about the shield?" asked Shelly.

"Not we Dear, me. Knowing the government as I do, they'll be watching you for awhile. They may even be monitoring you. Please tell me you're not at home."

"Of course I'm not. What do you take me for, a dummy? I'm at a call booth."

"Look. You don't know how much help you have been to me. When I figure out the answer I promise I'll let you know. We mustn't have any further contact. Not for the foreseeable future. Keep your nose clean and whatever you do, be careful."

"You too Jack," said Shelly, meaningfully.

"Goodbye Shelly. You're the best."

"You're not so bad yourself. Bye Jack. See you on the screen. Oh Jack?"

"Yes?"

"Before you go, I heard about the old super jail. Congratulations. I know you didn't like all the traveling."

"Thanks. It'll be a while but the sooner the better. Bye Shelly."

"Bye Jack."

"Everything is fine," said Jack as he came in from outside and strolled into the living room.

"Who's Shelly?"

There was dead silence. He felt his face flush.

"What?" Jack asked. He was completely taken by surprise.

"Shelly. The name on your list," repeated Dorrissa.

"Oh," feeling a bit relieved. "I told you about her. That was Dolly's best friend, the woman that works at the morgue. She's a very nice lady. Incidentally, if George and Dolly were still alive I would have added their names to that list."

"Dolly's dead?" asked Dorrissa, visibly stunned.

"Oh no, I forgot to tell you?" said Jack, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand.

Dorrissa said nothing.

"I'm sorry. I've had so much on my mind lately. I did a Crehu search on the data bank and her name was absent. That only means one thing."

"What is happening Jack?" asked Dorrissa, quite alarmed.

"I'm not sure exactly but I have my suspicions. It's possible the government is doing away with people they believe have no value."

"Jack. You're not making any sense. Doing away with people?"

"I don't have all the answers yet. I'm not about to surmise what may or may not be happening. We just have to keep our eyes and ears open. Be on guard always and don't do anything that could be construed as unlawful."

Despite Dorrissa's prodding, Jack was adamant that he would tell her no more. Knowing it was for her benefit.

"What about people in Family Support Groups you report on? Are they being eliminated also?" Dorrissa asked, extremely impassioned.

"Family Support Groups?" repeated Jack, perplexed.

"I mean Survival Groups," she corrected.

"How can they be? With media screen exposure their profile is too high. After their involvement is viewed and verified they are sent up north to Artic prisons."

"How do you know Jack?" Does anyone ever see them arriving? Do these prisons even exist?"

"If the government was executing these people we would have heard about it by now. Bodies would be turning up at morgues. They would be recognized. Tongues would wag, people would talk, the country would know about it."

"What about George? Isn't that how Dolly found out? Isn't that how we found out? That morgue worker, what's her name? Shelly? She told Dolly. She told you right? Are we going to be next?" asked Dorrissa.

"No. No of course not. Don't even think like that," said Jack. "No one knows I talked to Shelly. No one knows we even know they are deceased. What's more, no one suspects," said Jack.

What had he done, he wondered? He certainly stirred up a hornets nest by bringing up Dolly's demise. Dorrissa won't let this rest. Not Dorrissa. "Look," he said. "We have to forget about George and Dolly. There is nothing we can do for them now. To continue thinking about them would only cause you, only cause us, more grief. We must remain clear headed about this. Take a calm sensible approach. If the government is eliminating random people here and there to keep them quiet, our lives, our very existence would be threatened if they even suspected we knew anything. You need to promise me you can keep it together."

Looking up with tears in her eyes, a frightened child-like look on her face, Dorrissa said meekly, "I promise."

"I need a joint," said Jack. "Want to come for a walk?"

"No. I just want to be by myself for a bit. Take it all in."

"Are you alright Dorry?" said Jack, showing true loving concern.

"I'll be fine. You go ahead. I'll see you when you get back."

Jack bent over and kissed her on the forehead then left the room.

Next morning, her personal fear having subsided, Dorrissa knew what she must do. Having had her doubts about the government and its motives all along, Jack had only substantiated and reaffirmed them. She was now on a mission. More than ever she was determined to embark on her own creative quest. Looking up in her directory the number for the Eastern Cell Repository, she rang up Michael.

"Michael? Hi. It's Dorrissa. How have you been?"

"Good Dorrissa. And you?"

"Fine," she replied. "Michael. I was wondering. Remember not too long ago when I came and put together a list of donor samples for my birthing lab?"

"How could I forget," said Michael, tongue in cheek. "In all my years here you are the only birthing lab superintendent to ever do that."

"Is that so? Well I have lofty goals. What can I tell you? The last two cell shipments we received from your repository contained some samples that in my opinion are substandard. I would like to return them for ones I deem more appropriate."

"What exactly do you mean?" asked Michael.

Choosing her words very carefully, Dorrissa went on to explain her vision of what she wanted her birthing lab to be. She said as superintendent she wanted to create Crehus that were sample matches of the highest character as they pertained to donor sheets. She wanted her lab to stand out among all the others in the country. Michael pointed out that what she wanted to do was highly irregular and unheard of. Dorrissa countered that although perhaps highly irregular, it was not illegal. There was no law against it on the books and her intentions after all were above board. What is wrong she asked with wanting to turn out the best possible Crehus that she could.

"Nothing," said Michael. "But isn't it really the teachmaster that influences whether or not a Crehu will grow to become the shining example you hope they do?"

Dorrissa had not thought of this. Of course Michael was absolutely right. Not having any direct authority in the child rearing center, how was she to determine a Crehus outcome. Dorrissa needed to think very carefully about her next statement to Michael. "Although genes play a big part in characteristic makeup, what you say is quite true," replied Dorrissa. "First things first, Michael. That's down the road a bit and I shall cross that bridge when I come to it. Why don't we do lunch? How about on Thursday? I'll buy. We can talk more about it then."

I'd rather do you thought Michael. Something about Dorrissa, a combination of her looks and personality perhaps, turned him on. He did enjoy being in her company. He enjoyed it immensely. It was not a question of a free lunch.

"I'm not one for lunch. I do know where there is a nice restaurant we could go to for dinner."

"Fresh food?" asked Dorrissa. She tried not to sound wary so as not to scare him off but at the same time was concerned as to where this would lead.

"But of course," assured Michael.

"You make the reservation and get back to my assistant Gail with the details. But no French food," replied Dorrissa, recalling the past episode at 'The French Delight'. "I appreciate your understanding Michael and look forward to seeing you on Thursday. Bye for now."

Dorrissa called Gail into her office and gave her a list of cell samples that were to be shipped back to the repository. It was partly made up of donors that had proven positive for same sex tendencies. Although not clearly shown on their corresponding files, Dorrissa had researched the donors in their present circumstances on the Crehu information directory and found them to be unsuitable. She also asked Gail to book a flight to Ottawa for Thursday morning and reserve a room for her at the Empire Hotel for two nights. She wanted to return on a Saturday morning flight.

"You're going there again?" asked Gail, suspiciously.

"Anything wrong with that?" asked Dorrissa, somewhat peeved by her question.

"No," answered Gail, trying to backtrack. "It's just that last time you went with Jack."

"You know perfectly well Gail, that in his new capacity it's entirely impossible to make plans with him in mind. These samples have to be changed and I want to ensure that their replacements are acceptable."

"What's wrong with them?" asked Gail.

"They simply are not up to par. I have higher expectations for the Crehus we turn out here. When you are in charge after I'm gone you may run things as you see fit. Until then I wish you would refrain from questioning my judgment. Now if you'll excuse me I've got some work to catch up on."

Gail left Dorrissa's office in a huff. What right has she to talk to me that way she thought? She thinks that she is such a high and mighty so and so. She'll receive her comeuppance just wait and see.

That evening Dorrissa told Jack of her impending trip to Ottawa on Thursday with a scheduled flight back on Saturday. More inferior cell samples were to blame unfortunately. Jack explained that was just as well because he had to leave then also for a trip to both Kitchener and Guelph. He hoped to be back by Friday night though.

It was close to noon on Thursday when Dorrissa checked into the Empire. The list of names that she had garnered had been pared to a few. Taking no chances she removed everyone on it that worked at the Wycliffe compound and the same thing with the Rank Institute, with the exception of Becka. Outside of the people she had met in Susan's Support Group, none of which could be traced back to her, Dorrissa had included Ava, George and Dolly and Shelly among the ones mutually picked by her and Jack that she considered safe to use.

The chances of existing samples remaining for Mr. Laurence, Ruth, Mr. Jacobstown, Susan Edwardianson or Dr. Foxing were quite slim as all were much older and natural born. Dorrissa decided she would enter their names and see what she could find, if anything. The only place that she could access the information needed was in the cell repository itself. This was the reason her return trip was so imperative.

After getting settled Dorrissa gave Michael a call to tell him that she had arrived and was ready to get started. He replied that it was rather late in the day but promised she could have all tomorrow for her research. They could discuss it further over dinner he said. Reservations had been made at 'The Watering House', an upscale Ottawa restaurant, for seven p.m. With nothing more to be done Dorrissa frittered the time away in front of the media screen, all the while day dreaming of her plans.

When she got to the dining establishment Michael was ready and waiting.

"Dorrissa, it's nice to see you again. My, how lovely you look," said Michael, lustfully staring at her breasts.

"Why thank you. It's nice to see you too," said Dorrissa, now suspecting what was on his mind and wishing she were anywhere else but here.

"The samples you returned came back this afternoon. I had a look at the files and could see nothing out of the ordinary."

"That's just it. They are too ordinary and definitely not what I am looking for."

"Just what is it you are looking for?"

"I thought I explained myself perfectly well," replied Dorrissa. "Do I really have to rehash the issue?"

Before Michael had a chance to answer, the waitress appeared at their table.

"May I get you something from the bar Sir?"

"White wine might be nice. What do you say, Dorrissa?"

"That sounds fine to me."

"Bring us a bottle of the Okanogan Valley Western Region's finest," said Michael.

"Would you be ready to order as well Sir or should I give you a few more minutes?"

"I think I'm ready," offered Dorrissa. "I have a craving for lobster," she added.

"Excellent choice," commended Michael. "The Eastern Region lobsters they claim are out of this world. Make that two."

I'd settle for just 'out of this restaurant', present company can remain thought Dorrissa. He was definitely after more than just dinner and she did not hanker on becoming his dessert.

When the Peoples Government abolished all lesser forms of government the provinces ceased to be. Canada was now made up of regions; Eastern, Central, Western, and Northern. There were no unique aboriginal communities anymore. After receiving the Rod shot from the previous government the new Peoples Government abandoned its native Indian and Inuit habitations and their commitments to them.

All previous treaties and land claims settled by past governments were revoked. Any person of indigenous heritage who had not assimilated into the general population was left to their own devices. Almost all had vanished or were in the throes of old age and would soon be gone. No cell samples were ever taken from the vast majority of them. It was a planned genocide of the first nation peoples and their culture.

The end of multiculturalism had also brought another form of genocide, although to a lesser degree. With the advent of one language, English, all others being outlawed, the deathblow for all diverse nationalities in the country had been sounded. There was no past, no history, only a future. All were Canadians, one language, one people, and one country.

"So I was saying," Michael continued from where he left off, "that I was looking over the files that you returned. It seemed to me that there was a preponderance of similar sexual persuasion in the group."

Dorrissa raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

"Don't tell me you never noticed," said Michael.

"So what if I did. There were other attributing characteristics that caused me to reject them," Dorrissa replied.

"You are aware that the government places significant value on the merit of these cells, are you not?"

"Perhaps the government and I don't see eye to eye in this regard. It's my decision to make. If the government didn't want me as supervisor they wouldn't have offered it to me. Or they would have removed me from my position by now."

"Just the same," said Michael, "I'm beginning to feel substantially uneasy allowing you to come in and pick and choose on your terms."

Michael was right again. What if the government got wind of what she was doing? Was it worth the risk? The definite bottom line was to bring her plan to reality. She would have to bite the bullet on this one.

"Look Michael. The last thing I want to happen is for you to receive any backlash because of this. Tomorrow I will search for some high level similar sex preference cell samples to add to my list. I know there must be some waiting to be discovered. I will show you all of my choices. If you don't agree that I have arrived at the compromised balance you are asking for you can withhold their shipment. This isn't about you thinking that I am homophobic I hope? I know you didn't actually say that. It's about quality, plain and simple. I honestly do appreciate your concern though. And I'd love more wine," Dorrissa smiled, persuasively.

Michael obliged reticently. He had not only been listening intently but also watching very astutely, Dorrissa's body language. He did not want to come off too strong or turn her off of him in any way. He considered what he was doing to be a favor. Michael had visions of collecting on that favor later that night in Dorrissa's hotel room.

Well come on, say something for Pete's sake thought Dorrissa. She had almost chocked on her words as she spoke them. Finally Michael smiled.

"I can buy that," he said. "Don't come as early as you did last time though. Be there no earlier than nine. I want to be there when you arrive."

"That's fair enough. Will Jane or Rachel be there to give me a hand?"

"I'm not sure who's on shift in the morning, probably one of them. Looks like dinner's here."

Dorrissa turned to see the waitress as she placed their meals before them. With a sumptuous sigh, Dorrissa said, "I'm starved. Now we shall see if this lives up to its reputation."

"The food or the restaurant?" asked Michael.

In a show of good manners Dorrissa waited until the girl was out of earshot. Looking as if she had not a care in the world she smiled and simply said one word. "Both."

Jack had just left a Kitchener garment factory about the same time with a bad taste in his mouth. A large group of people, fifteen in all, had just been arrested. Almost all first generation Crehus, twelve of them were women. Three were very old ladies, natural born. It was all so horribly pathetic, so hideously wrong. The controllers rode roughshod over them. Two of the oldest women had been battered and bruised. The cameras had been order turned off while a particularly beefy controller, just for kicks, threw them to the ground to teach them a lesson. The rest of the controllers circled around, some with snickering comments, egging him on in a display of shrill, cackling laughter.

The fear in the women's eyes, the agonizing screams and tears from the others in the group, caused Jack to look away in disgust and humiliation. His disgust was directed at himself. How could he have allowed this to happen without intervening? What manner of cowardice was this?

"Did you get that?" Jack asked one of the cameramen who had been filming.

"Yes. But we can't use it. You heard them," answered the man's timid voice.

"Of course not," said Jack, "It will have to be edited. I'm on my way over to the local media station now. I'll take it with me."

Jack made his way over to the station.

"Hi, I'm..."

"Jack. Everyone knows who you are. You got a scoop for us?" interrupted the network manager.

"You bet I do. I want you to run this right away. In it's entirety. You may never get a story this big from me again."

Is it a Family Survival Group capture?" asked the manager.

"Sure is. But much more. Much, much, more. Wait 'til you see it," said Jack.

"Hey Duncan, get over here. Now!" yelled the manager.

The man in the film editing booth ran out in double time.

"Take this," said the manager. "I want you to break off whatever you are showing on the Crime Channel. Flash up the SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN logo. Show this in its place."

"Shouldn't we screen it first?" asked Duncan.

"Do we need to screen it?" the manager asked Jack, in awe of his celebrity status.

"No time for that. It's fine. You're familiar with my work, are you not?"

The network manager shot a glance back at Duncan and said, "Run it. It's fine."

"I'll go with him," said Jack.

The manager watched as the logo flashed across the screen.

"Good evening. This is Jack 1145A12 reporting to you on behalf of the government, your government, the Peoples Government. We are on location in Kitchener tonight with a squad of the government's finest just outside a local garment factory. Ongoing monitoring has determined the possible existence of a Family Survival Group meeting taking place here tonight. We're following the controllers in as I speak."

The scene taking place showed controllers breaking down the door and rushing into the complex.

"Controllers! None of you move. You're all under arrest."

The media screen showed people, mostly women, screaming and trying to get away. A large burly controller grabbed two old ladies and threw them viciously to the ground.

"Cut! Cut that damn film!" shouted the network manager, banging on the door from outside the locked editing room as he tried to get in. Jack had locked it after he followed Duncan inside.

"No you don't Duncan," said Jack, forcefully grabbing the man and pinning him to the floor when the man tried to stop the film.

Back at the restaurant Michael and Dorrissa were finished dinner and just about finished the wine.

"So how's your partner doing?" asked Michael.

"He's doing fine. Thanks for asking."

"It must get pretty lonesome with him being away so much?"

"I manage," said Dorrissa.

Reaching out to touch her hand, Michael said, "Have you ever thought about getting a little on the side," evincing a lecherous smirk.

All of a sudden a great commotion erupted.

"People, everyone," shouted a voice. "You've got to see this."

There on the side wall, where a large media screen was mounted, were the startling pictures.

"Turn off the cameras! Turn those bloody cameras off now!" bellowed a large and looming government controller.

Another heavy-set controller was beating on two old ladies lying on the ground. Sobbing hysterically, you could see the fear in their eyes.

"Son of a bitch," said Michael, looking at the screen and then back to Dorrissa. "Isn't that your partner Jack in the background? What in the Name of Government is he showing this crap for. That boy's gonna be in deep shit."

Dorrissa didn't say a word. She was in shock. Michael having had intentions towards Dorrissa other than wining and dining (or breading and bedding as he liked to call it) quickly changed his mind in a hurry. The very last thing he needed was to get involved in a major public scandal that he could see was about to take place.

"The fists are gonna fly in the morning let me tell you," stated Michael. "I'm sorry I can't stay longer Dorrissa but I've got a previous engagement. Don't worry about coming in tomorrow. I know you will probably want to go right home. It's better that way. Stand by your man and all. You know that old cliché."

Dorrissa shook her head and averted her eyes from the screen. What was that? What did he say? Don't come in tomorrow? She looked up at him. He was standing now, pushing in his chair, all ready to leave. He was going to leave her there as well.

"Of course I'll be in tomorrow. You think I traveled all this way from Toronto just to have dinner with you? Listen to your charm and attempted seduction while all the time you know I'm happily partnered? Listen up Michael. We have a deal. You promised. I did my part and now you had better do yours. Believe me. You wouldn't want to get on my bad side."

"What's this, a threat?" Michael laughed uneasily.

"No. More like a promise," said Dorrissa.

"Alright damn it just this one last time. I want your word. This will be the very last time you come to my repository."

"Michael, Michael, Michael," chided Dorrissa, shaking her curls back and forth all the while thinking 'don't go away mad, just go away'.

With Michael looking like a lit fuse doing a slow burn, Dorrissa continued, "Just kidding, just kidding. My Government, you're so sensitive. This will positively be the last time. I promise. You have my word. We still have to work together even if it will be from a distance. Let's try to get along okay?" said Dorrissa, pouring on the charm and extending her hand with a smile.

"Fair enough," said Michael. "I'll take you at your word. But I don't want any involvement with that," he said, pointing to the screen.

The clip was over. The film had ended.

"You won't," said Dorrissa, knowing he meant Jack. "See you tomorrow at nine."

"What in the Name of Government did you think you were doing?" the network manager asked Jack after forcing the door open to the editing room. The clip had ended and Jack was helping Duncan up off the ground.

"I apologize for that," Jack said to Duncan. Looking up at the overwrought manager, Jack added, "That clip had to be shown. Just because the government deems Family Survival Groups criminal doesn't mean they condone abusive maltreatment of the perpetrators. Those were old ladies that were being beaten. Defenseless old ladies. Is justice being served by that unspeakable display of vulgar brutality?"

"Just the same, the shit's going to hit the fan. And by your indiscriminate action you've placed me in jeopardy. In the direct line of fire," said the network manager.

"I'll take full and complete responsibility for my actions, letting the chips lie wherever they fall," said Jack.

About to fall they were.

"Jack. Garry Taftling's on line five," said one of the men in the studio.

"Jack 1145A12 here, hello?"

"Jack. Have you completely taken leave of your senses? What in the hell were you thinking of man? Running that tape complete and uncut?" said the National Security Advisor.

"I had to Garry. It was more than just a matter of principal. A crowd was forming. There were others that saw what was going on. If I were not to expose the controller's vile, perfidious treatment of this group people would not only think of me as incorrigibly capricious, but be inclined to believe the government is involved in some underlying collusiveness with the law enforcement agency."

"I just got off the phone with the old man."

"Prime Minister Trandlore?" asked Jack.

"Who else?" replied Garry. "He reamed my ass good and solid. It was I who recommended you for this job don't forget. I feel like I'm up the creek without a paddle. He's really mad Jack. He's fit to be tied."

"Sorry Garry. I'll straighten it out."

"The Prime Minister wants you to go directly to your hotel. You're not to talk to anyone. No bloody statements of any kind. You're to remain in seclusion there until I get back to you."

"I trust the people Garry. I'll be vindicated here just wait and see."

"I'll talk to you later," said Garry.

Back in his hotel room, Jack ordered a meal through room service and waited. Steven Laurence was the first to call.

"Hey Jack. You certainly caused a bit of a ruckus this evening I'd say."

"You think?" replied Jack.

"Hey kid. It will be okay. I'm on your side. So it seems are the people. Media stations all over the country have been swamped by callers phoning in and praising your actions. I hear there are even people calling their M.P.'s. Ray himself is even in damage control mode. He's called a press conference for tomorrow at ten. Live, coast to coast and you're going to be there."

"I am?" asked Jack, somewhat taken back.

"That's what I hear. You're a bona fide hero Jack. What do you think of that?" said Steven.

"But I'm supposed to be in Guelph tomorrow?"

"Sorry Jack. I think I'm getting a little ahead of myself here. I had better let you go. They're probably trying to get hold of you as we speak. I just wanted to make sure you weren't down in the dumps or anything. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay Steve. Thanks for calling," said Jack, his elation most evident.

Shortly after came another call verifying exactly what Steven had told him. It was from Garry Taftling.

"Jack. You have to be back in Toronto by eight a.m. tomorrow morning. The Prime Minister is going live on the screen at ten and he wants you to brief him on this whole situation before then. You're to report directly to his office when you arrive. Do you have any questions?"

"What about Guelph," asked Jack?

"Forget about it. It's been postponed. You've precipitated a crisis of sorts here that needs to be dealt with immediately my friend," said Garry.

"I'll be there. May I call Dorrissa and let her know what's going on? She will be worried."

"I don't see why not. Talk to no one else though. The ban on talking about this is still in effect. Better make sure you tell Dorrissa the ban applies to her as well. Until after the Prime Minister's announcement," added Garry.

Jack called Dorrissa at the Empire Hotel.

"Hello," said Dorrissa.

"Don't you know you're supposed to take me with you whenever you go anywhere?" said Jack.

"Jack! I've been going nuts trying to call you. Every time I tried I would get rebuffed. The front desk of your hotel wouldn't put me through. What's going on? How are you?" asked Dorrissa, sounding anxious and a bit frantic.

"I've been better. I guess I went and did it this time eh."

"Never mind about that, I'm proud of you Jack. I really am. What you did took extreme courage. I hope you know that. What's going to happen now?"

Jack went on to describe what both Steven and Garry had told him after first telling Dorrissa they were both not allowed to discuss this with anyone until after the Prime Minister's announcement tomorrow morning. Jack felt strongly that, given the circumstances, he had done the right thing. Whether or not he had placed his job on the line didn't matter to him. The fear of repercussions concerning his rank and his relationship with Dorrissa had not even entered his mind when he did what he did. If it had, he might not have done it. But he didn't tell Dorrissa that. What he told her was that he had taken a stand. If he had it all to do over he wouldn't change a thing.

"So I'm holding up fine. How are you doing?" Jack asked.

"Good," said Dorrissa. "I'm going to the repository in the morning and I expect to be finished by the end of the day. I'll stay here one more night and will fly home Saturday morning. I miss you Jack. I'm looking forward to seeing you. I wish I could be with you now."

"Me too kiddo. I'll call you tomorrow night. Sweet dreams," said Jack, emphatically.

Chapter 7

"Go right in. He is expecting you," said the tall blonde.

Jack knocked on the door.

"Come in."

"Mr. Prime Minister."

"Come in Jack. Close the door and take a seat."

Jack closed the door and gingerly walked across the room which emitted a strong scent of furniture polish and men's aftershave. Papers were interspersed among stacks of files on the Prime Minister's desk. He was starring down at one of those held in his hand when he again said, "Take a seat!"

Jack sat in a plush leather and oak high back chair that, while putting his body at ease had the opposite effect on his mind. The Prime Minister looked up at Jack, eyes riveting over a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles that rested firmly on the bridge of his nose. The moment of truth had arrived. Jack sat posture erect returning his gaze without a flinch. Hot seat or not that man won't see a squirm out of me, he thought. After sizing Jack up the Prime Minister spoke.

"Tell me Jack. What could have possessed you to show that tape? What exactly was going through your mind?"

"It was the injustice of it all. The injustice that was taking place. Though felons they may be you do not treat women, particularly old women, with insurmountable violence. Since when did our law enforcement personnel become a goon squad? The end does not always justify the means. Artic imprisonment encampments already await these people. To inflict needless pain and suffering upon them is tantamount to the cruelest of torture. Surely that is not the purpose or the aim of this government."

"Do you know," said the Prime Minister in all seriousness, "that when I first saw your tape I was ready to hang you out to dry. All the work, all the effort, this government has put in to stop people from forming these groups was to no avail I concluded. Then the phone calls started, first to the media stations and after to their local M.P.'s.

"Right in this Parliament Building itself the phones have been ringing off the hooks. You've struck a common cord with the people Jack. They were outraged by the display of aggressive mayhem taking place before their eyes and rightly so. It has never been this government's intention to do any more than instill a needed justice upon society. Where there is no justice there is chaos. Unchecked chaos breeds carnage. No one wants that. But injustice, as you've rightly coined it Jack, we can't have that either.

"I have prepared a statement that I shall be reading to the Nation at precisely ten o'clock this morning. After which I will bring you out and shake your hand for all to see, in appreciation for exposing the gross ineptitude of this band of rogue controllers. Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Not as yet."

"Well go and get some. Be back here at nine forty-five sharp."

"Yes Sir," said Jack sedately as he got up to leave.

"Oh Jack?" said the Prime Minister.

"Yes Sir?"

"Good job."

"Thank you Sir."

Dorrissa stopped outside the guardhouse at the front gate.

"I have an appointment with Michael, the repository manager, this morning," she said.

"Name please," said the guard.

"Dorrissa 172A12."

"You may pass through. I'll notify him that you are here."

Dorrissa stepped out of the cab and proceeded through the entrance and made her way up to the building. Once inside she was told to take a seat and Michael would be out presently to greet her. Fifteen minutes passed.

"Hello Dorrissa. Right on time as usual. Did you hear? The Prime Minister is addressing the Nation live at ten this morning."

"Yes I did."

"We will be announcing a work stoppage over the public address system so everyone can watch. Follow me and I'll take you down to the storage vault. Rachel is in today and she will spend the day with you," said Michael.

"I like Rachel. She's nice."

After gaining entrance Michael summoned Rachel. "You two know each other I presume."

"Hello Rachel. Nice to see you again," said Dorrissa.

"You too," agreed Rachel. "How were the cell samples we sent you?"

"For the most part they were good. There were some however that I couldn't use. I have an over abundance of factory type profiles already on hand," replied Dorrissa.

"You will be working with Dorrissa today Rachel. Find out what her requirements are so that we can fill them to her satisfaction. She cannot keep coming down here like this anymore. That matter has already been broached between us. I'll touch base with you later. Don't forget. We'll be stopping work at ten to watch the Prime Minister's address to the Nation."

And with that he was gone.

"Thank you Michael," called out Dorrissa, as he walked away. She knew that he had heard her but he hadn't bothered to acknowledge.

"And what can I do for you," joked Rachel.

"Well. Perhaps we can go to the data bank and do a search for samples," smiled Dorrissa. "I'll explain exactly what it is that I'm looking for pertaining to sample characteristics."

"Right this way my dear," laughed Rachel.

At five minutes to ten an announcement was broadcast over the P.A. "Attention workers. Please stop whatever it is you are doing and proceed to the nearest media screen for an important public address by our Prime Minister.

"Come on Dorrissa," said Rachel. "We have to go to the lunchroom."

"Welcome everyone. Thank you for joining us at the P.G.C.A., the Peoples Government Correspondence Agency. With no further ado we bring you the Right Honorable Mr. Q. Raymond Trandlore, Internal Prime Minister of the Peoples Government of Canada."

"Greetings my fellow Canadians. It is with heavy heart and humble spirit that I stand before you today. Last night a shocking instance of pernicious abuse was portrayed right before our eyes, across this great Nation, invading our own homes. The abusive handling of a group of people we commonly refer to as a Family Survival Group, who by and large broke our country's laws, was intolerable and indisputably inexcusable. It has never been and never will be this government's policy, your government, the Peoples Government, to inflict such flagrant, shamefully inhuman punishment on its citizens, be they criminals or not.

"My cabinet members and I are outraged that such an occurrence has taken place. I assure you that all pertinent steps shall be taken to get to the bottom of this and all perpetrators shall be duly punished. The controllers seen on your screen have all been placed on suspension without pay pending the outcome of a full, impartial hearing.

"Since the airing of this tape this government, along with all of its M.P.'s, has been inundated with a bombardment of calls and an outpouring of anger and rightly so. A government known for its heart and compassion, for its servitude and betterment of society, could never, ever, accept or condone what happened in Kitchener last night.

"Some of you have called to urge us to stop the persecution of these people. To let them go. In this I stand firm, fast, and committed. Family Survival Groups are against the law, pure and simple. People caught participating in such groups shall be prosecuted, period. Laws are made for a reason. Any government that stands by and watches a law being broken without lifting so much as a finger to stop the lawbreakers is a government lost in transition. A government not long for this world.

"The Peoples Government is a government of the future. We have a vision. We know you share that vision with us. Anyone who breaks this country's laws will be dealt with harshly but under no circumstances shall we permit personal abuse to take place. Some of you may be aware of an old building in our Central Region, due north of here, outside of the small community of Penetanguishene on Southern Georgian Bay. It was once hailed as a super jail but has not been used for decades. Your government, the Peoples Government, is presently having it brought up to acceptable standards to accommodate Family Survival Group members. They will be held there indefinitely after being arrested and charged as accomplices of these groups.

"I have instructed Mr. Ellis Evenscan, Minister of Farm Centers and Buildings, to make haste with this project. Round the clock work will commence immediately on this structure to have it available as soon as possible. Though just a temporary containment facility until their complete and ultimate banishment to Artic Imprisonment Camps, I believe having a permanent, on location, government penal force to take charge of this holding center shall alleviate any future problems arising regarding mistreatment of these Family Survival Group criminals.

"Now I'd like to bring out before you the one man who had the fortitude, the courage, and the spirited audacity to reveal to us all this miscarriage of justice. Jack. Can you come out here please?"

Jack, looking as modest as possible, came out to where the Prime Minister was standing. Shaking his hand rather profusely, in a grand show of sheer gratitude, the Prime Minister said, "Jack. On behalf of your country, this Nation Canada, I commend you for your visionary display of noble hindsight. May you forever be diligent in the pursuit and performance of your duties."

"Thank you Mr. Prime Minister," said Jack.

Turning away from Jack and back to the camera the Prime Minister said, "I want to thank you all for joining with me today and for your overwhelming support of your government, the Peoples Government. Together with your help we shall build this great country to be even greater. Now to you all, as I'm sure that each and every one of you is anxiously awaiting a return to work, I say thank you and goodbye."

"Did you see that?" Rachel asked Dorrissa.

"I was right here beside you," smiled Dorrissa.

"That was your partner up there shaking the Prime Minister's hand, a bona fide hero in front of the whole Nation. How does it feel to live with a hero?"

Beaming with pride Dorrissa smiled and said, "Now I'll never be able to get him to pick up his dirty laundry."

Away from the podium and the glare of the cameras the Prime Minister spoke more freely with Jack. "You know that business out there in front of the cameras? That was politics. It was strictly for the people. It was what they wanted to see."

"I figured as much," replied Jack.

"How so?" asked the Prime Minister.

"That handshake was a bit too reassuring," smiled Jack.

"Ah. Well let me tell you my boy. In politics face value is everything. First appearances can get your foot in the door but if you loose face with the people you'll find yourself in a revolving door."

"That's only if there was an election and I don't ever recall there being one," said Jack, imprudently.

The Prime Minister stopped dead in his tracks. He drew a bead on Jack and barreled in on him. "Listen mister. You had better climb down from that high horse of yours. The popularity of the people may be behind you now but popular opinion has a way of changing quite drastically. These people have saved your bacon this time boy but I have a mind to pull it out of the frying pan and throw it into the fire."

"I'm sorry Sir. That comment was uncalled for," apologized Jack.

"You're bloody well right it was uncalled for! You'd best remember what side your bread is buttered on. Next time you get anything controversial on camera you run it by Garry Taftling or Leonard Jamling before it airs publicly. Got it?"

"Yes Sir," said Jack.

"Now make like a tree and leaf," said the Prime Minister.

"Jack. Jack," called a vociferous voice. "Hang on."

He turned around to see Steven.

"How are you doing?" asked Steven, slightly out of breath.

"As good as the weather," replied Jack.

"It's cold and miserable outside."

"Is it? I'm kidding. I know. I just finished talking with our magniloquent master. He was talking about bread and butter so now I am hungry. I was just heading off to the cafeteria. Care to join me?" asked Jack.

"Forget that, c'mon. I'll take you out to a good restaurant," said Steven.

"So this is what I need you to look for," Dorrissa explained to Rachel.

By now she had acquired more than half of all the samples she had been searching for. As expected, she included almost two dozen same sex preference files in her choices knowing that Michael would be scrutinizing the entire list. When it was time for lunch Dorrissa begged off. If she was to finish by the end of the day she would need to work straight through.

Rachel, having gotten in trouble for leaving Dorrissa alone last time, refused to budge. Knowing that Michael had given her explicit orders to stay with Dorrissa at all times, Rachel said, "If you don't eat, I don't eat."

Quickly comprehending what Rachel had secretly been told, Dorrissa said, "Well it never hurt me to loose a few pounds."

The women both laughed which helped to relieve a moment of developing tension.

"Could you pull these files for me Rachel? I'd like to continue here and search some more. It will save time," added Dorrissa.

"I guess that would be okay. Just stay put. Above all, stay out of the cell sample area please or it will cost me my job," said Rachel, on her way to the file storage room.

"Of course I promise."

Dorrissa knew she could only request one sample each from the names on her personal list due to government regulations. For this reason she had devised a plan to receive the remaining samples. Phoning Michael the day after receiving them she'd tell him some had inadvertently been left in the transfer unit overnight and thawed out when the unit's batteries ran down. The destroyed samples and their files were already on the way back to him for replacements. Giving Michael the donor names she would ask him to check if there was another sample. If so, could he send it along? If not, a close substitute would do.

In order to accomplish this Dorrissa would need to switch samples from her personal list with existing ones in her birthing lab, switch names on the containers, and leave them hidden overnight to thaw without her lab workers knowledge. When Michael received the ruined samples along with their files, and checked the donors names on the containers, hopefully he would be satisfied that sending the others would be okay. If so, she would have both and could then begin the creation process. She'd make sure the ruined samples would be ones of same sex preference that she didn't want in the first place. In switching the samples she would make a careful note of their new names just as she had done with her own and Jack's, so no mistakes would be made. She would lock all their files together in her desk until the time was ripe for creation.

While Rachel was gone pulling files, Dorrissa checked the computer data base to see if by some stroke of luck there was any information on Steven Laurence, Ruth Riserfish, Charles Jacobstown, Susan Edwardianson and Dr. William Easterman Foxing.

She was not prepared for what happened next. While researching Steven's name, not only did she find detailed information but that information listed pertinent knowledge of his offspring. One sample had been withdrawn in 2104, the other in 2108. That is all it should have said. It was the additional information that was the shocker. The sample drawn in 2104 was given the name Jack 1145T12.

Against astronomical odds, staring her right in the face was the name of her beloved partner. Steven Laurence was his biological father. Not only that. Jack had a half brother, Bruce 187T16. Both of Steven's samples had developed into first generation male Crehus. By some unimaginable fluke of good fortune Dorrissa had breached the gap of forbidden secrecy. She would now be able to tell Jack that Steven was more than just a friend, he was his father. Steven's records did not list the female donors that were used as matches with his cells.

A cell repository currently receives two donor samples and two statistic/picture files from each Crehu. They are withdrawn one at a time by birthing labs. When gone, the only repository records kept are the donor's name & year/years the samples were withdrawn. It retains no pictures and receives no record of the new Crehus that were created. The birthing lab destroys all statistic/picture files upon successful creation so no Crehu can ever determine their ancestry. A new personal file is then created for them. Being Crehus, Dorrissa and Jack's statistic/picture files contained no information pertaining to their lineage. However, natural born donor records happened to show the sex and given names of their offspring. It must have been an oversight by the government who first initiated this program she thought.

Continuing on she found that Steven's, Charles's, and Dr. Foxing's samples had all produced first generation male Crehus. How predominate, she thought. Dorrissa hoped that Jack's were not similar because she rather fancied a daughter. Susan Edwardianson's samples had evolved into one each, male and female. In researching her five natural born human names Dorrissa now had fourteen possible retrieval samples to hunt for. She could find no record of any samples for Ruth Riserfish, Steven's partner.

Dorrissa wrote down the names of their seven first generation Crehus (Jack's having already been harvested) and, in a fevered frenzy, checked for remaining cell samples. Finished in the nick of time, Rachel was returning with an armload of files. Out of a possible full slate of fourteen samples, Dorrissa had come up with thirteen. Susan Edwardian's daughter had only one sample remaining.

By the end of the day Dorrissa's job had been completed. With a high percentage of same sex preference cells interspersed throughout her list she was hopeful of Michael's approval. No need to rock the boat. Dorrissa had accomplished what she had set out to do. She could barely wait for the next step. Creation.

"Have you ever been here?" Steven asked Jack.

He looked at the sign. It said The Gastronome.

"This place is fabulous," said Steven. "The food is exquisite."

"Where have I heard that before?" Jack laughed.

"No really," maintained Steven.

Once inside, Frank, upon recognizing Jack, rushed over to shake his hand. "I saw you on the screen Sir. I just had to congratulate you on a job well done."

Jack smiled and thanked him.

"Dining with the Prime Minister today are we?"

"With one of them," joked Jack.

"Please gentlemen, if you would follow me," said Frank, as he led both men to a secluded table in the rear. "Your waitress shall be here momentarily."

"You would almost think they know you here," said Steven.

"I get that a lot," grinned Jack. "Being on the Crime Channel and all," he added.

After the waitress took their order and brought each of the men a cold draught of beer, Steven asked Jack what Dorrissa had thought of the clip he had shown?

"She said she was proud of me. Proud that fear or intimidation from a higher authority had not suppressed my moral values and made me refrain from showing it to the public."

"It's clearly evident by general consensus that people are almost unanimous in their support of you. Why, just look at the man who led us to this table."

"Their outpouring of encouragement has been enormously gratifying. It's truly touched me. It really has. There were times while doing my job that I wondered if people really cared about anything other than themselves. Or if anything anyone ever does to try to make this country a better place to live really matters," said Jack.

"I know what you mean," agreed Steven. "Sometimes I get downcast and disillusioned by events that occur, frustrated by my inability to do more in way of positive change. Being only the External Prime Minister my hands are tied. Watching Ray this morning, addressing the country, I realize now that I'll never have that opportunity. Recently I've been giving much serious thought toward retiring. Ray is not about to relinquish power. He has set himself a personal agenda that has yet to come to a finish. He'll probably die in office. I'll be entering my sixty-ninth year in the fall. Ruth is not far behind. It's time to step on the brakes and take my bearings."

Steven sees Jack's puzzled expression and laughs.

"Did you think I'd carry on in this capacity forever or are you just wondering why I'm telling you this? A person I have known but for a short while."

"No. I guess I just never thought about it," said Jack.

"When a man reaches my age son he has a tendency to think much more than do. Son, hmm, now there is a superfluous expletive if ever there was one. If natural childbirth had not been banned and the Rod shot not invented I could imagine me having a son much like you.

"Just before my eighteenth birthday I received a notice in the mail ordering me to report to a government health office to receive my Rod shot. Reproductive conscription notices they were called. I remember the tears in my father's eyes when it came. My mother was beside herself with grief. That is when my father first told me of the personal horror they both had been through.

"When the Rod shot was first implemented I was two or three at the time. My mother was five months pregnant with what would have been my brother or sister. Not only did that shot destroy their reproductive ability, it also caused my mother, along with thousands of other Canadian women, to miscarry.

"It was only a few years later when they found out the cell samples they had submitted to the repository, which could enable them to have additional children, would not be conceived and returned to prospective parents. The terrorist destruction of one of the country's cell repositories had precipitated a governmental decision to take over child rearing. I would have no siblings.

"Their only consolation in life, they had said, was having been blessed with my birth. But with me now of age to receive my Rod shot, all those terrible memories came rushing back. They were both resigned to that fact and forlorn in the sadness they felt. My dad looked at me that day, tears streaming down his cheeks, and said that he would never ever be able to look into the eyes of his grandchildren.

"He hugged me firmly almost taking my breath away. I remember smelling the distinctive scent of his cologne, feeling the roughness of his whiskers against my face, the salty taste of his tears on my lips."

Now, with voice breaking, Steven continued, "I'll never forget the taste of those tears. The smell, the touch, and the closeness of that moment we shared. My dad has been gone for a long time now. It's funny how much I still miss him."

Jack had watched intently as Steven bared his inner thoughts and feelings. The recollection of such a heart rendering moment had caused Steven's eyes to well up with tears.

"Here, take this," said Jack, passing him a table napkin. "It's best not to draw attention to yourself. I envy you, you know. How wonderful it must have been to experience the love of a father, the love of both your parents. In trying to create the perfect Utopia the government has destroyed the one thing that gives a person a sense of purpose, a sense of belonging. It destroyed the family unit. It's no wonder we see the prolific rise of Family Survival Groups in our present society."

"Keep your voice down," said Steven, even though oblivious to his own he had been. "That announcement Ray gave this morning; it was no mere, 'whatever comes to mind', address. The government is on a very straight and narrow path and he intends to keep it that way. It will not be long before all natural born humans in this country perish from old age. The youngest of us will be in their mid sixties this year.

"Once we're gone there will be no one left to remember what families meant to each other. First generation Crehus may have an idea, a concept of it by talking with people who are natural born. But as time progresses that concept will first blur and then diminish until it disappears entirely. As long as the government stays the course they will ultimately win the battle.

"And believe me it is a battle. You can see it taking place with these Family Survival Groups. The last breath of life before that life is extinguished. That is why these groups are deemed so detrimental to the government and why they want them eradicated. You see, Ray never knew the warmth or the love of a family. That is why he was selected for his position. He holds a personal enmity towards Family Survival Groups. It's really no surprise why I've been the External Prime Minister as long as I have. I'm just a puppet," Steven paused, "and he is the puppeteer."

Jack sat fascinated by what he was hearing, emotionally enraptured in the presence of a man so inspiring as Steven was. Not because of his position or influence but because of his true, down to earth goodness. He was impressed with the whole package of the man. What a man should be. What Jack wished he was, or would become; a great man.

"Listening to you I can't help but feel that positive changes in the country would occur if you were the Internal Prime Minister. It almost sounds to me, if my ears don't deceive me, that you are pro Family Survival Groups," whispered Jack.

Steven looked at Jack with a lingering hesitancy. It really didn't matter anymore. The beast had already been let out of the bag.

"I would give people who wanted the chance to raise families exactly that; a chance. In a secluded neighborhood setting much like the old fashioned suburban community my grandparents told me about. Ah yes. I had grandparents also. Don't get me talking about them or I'll keep you up all night," Steven laughed, dabbing his eyes before continuing. "A dozen or so communities set up on a trial basis, away from cities, much like farm and child rearing centers are situated today. Children would be constantly evaluated as they grow. The results would determine the feasibility of continuation."

"You know Steven you explain things so well. What if you suggested something of that effect to Mr. Trandlore?" said Jack.

"Are you daft man? Not on your life. Or mine either for that matter. That is the last trial balloon I'd ever be floating," said Steven.

"Say by some miraculous chance you got to become the Internal Prime Minister and implemented your trial plan. What if the number of people applying to become parents was more than the government could handle?" asked Jack.

"Applying? Now there's a fine word for it. Demand outstripping supply? I guess they would have to draw straws," joked Steven.

"No. In all seriousness the government would have to develop some form of lottery. They used to have them at one time you know? There were many different government lotteries. People used to buy tickets hoping to win vast amounts of money. Now they could win children. Wayne Turnmore, our Tax and Revenue Minister, would absolutely love the idea. Let us talk no more of fantasy and facades. It is all irrelevant and immaterial. Tell me Jack. What time is Dorrissa expecting you home this evening?"

"Actually she's not. Dorrissa's in Ottawa on a business trip."

"Splendid. You must dine with Ruth and me tonight. She'll be thrilled to see you. I won't take no for an answer. I believe you said you had your car with you. Where did you leave it?"

"I'm not familiar with the west end of the city so I drove back and parked in my normal spot. I certainly 'rised and shined' early this morning," said Jack.

"Perfect," said Steven. "You weren't planning to go back to work this afternoon were you?"

"No. Since the raid in Guelph had been cancelled I was intending to play hooky and take the rest of the day off, providing I had the rest of the day. I wasn't sure what Prime Minister Trandlore had in store for me."

Looking at his watch, Steven said, "Well it is half past two now. Why don't we just go over to my place and surprise Ruth. Waitress, check please," called Steven, holding up his hand to catch her attention.

Dorrissa got back to her room shortly before six. Putting a do not disturb sign on the door, and double locking it for good measure, she made her way over to the desk. There she pulled out her list and sat down. With marked excitement, Dorrissa began her task of matching up the various cell donors that she had found on file. The Support Group Members, as Susan called them, that Dorrissa had met at Susan's residence almost all had at least one cell sample still on file. As there were more female samples than male ones from that group, she would need to do some juggling of names.

All effort would be taken to match partnered couple's cells. They may not be able to raise their own children but comfort could be taken in the knowledge that they had children.

Dorrissa made up her match list to include both of the cell samples from the donors she requested, keeping her fingers crossed that in the end all the samples would arrive at her birthing lab safe and sound. She especially wanted both of Bruce's samples since he was Jack's half brother and Steven's other natural son. There was a chance that Michael might not send out second samples to replace spoiled first ones. But if that were the case, at least she would have one sample from everyone. Just to keep him off his guard and less suspicious of her intentions, she would add some same sex preference names to her list of ruined donors for Michael's perusal to show she was on the level.

When Dorrissa was finished matching her personal list of cell samples she sat back and admired her handiwork.

Cell Matches Compilation Date Friday January 12, 2150.

# 1. Ken 1124 ( Jack ) + Betty 1230 ( Dorrissa )

# 2. David 129 ( Jack ) + Jacqueline 158 ( Dorrissa )

# 3. Howard 1173 + Meg 138

# 4. Howard 1173 + Meg 138

# 5. Timothy 143 + Elaine 1216

# 6. Timothy 143 + Elaine 1216

# 7. Ryan 159 + Wendy 1249

# 8. Ryan 159 + Dolly 151

# 9. Paul 163 + Hope 172

# 10. George 178 + Dolly 151

# 11. Bruce 187 ( Steven's son ) + Becka 2114

# 12. Bruce 187 ( Steven's son ) + Becka 2114

# 13. Jason 1137 ( Susan's son ) + Alice 1246 ( Susan's companion )

# 14. Jason 1137 ( Susan's son ) + Rhonda 282

# 15. Philip 1158 ( Charles' son ) + Eloise 227

# 16. Philip 1158 ( Charles' son ) + Eloise 227

# 17. Rodney 183 ( Charles' son ) + Monica 213

# 18. Rodney 183 ( Charles' son ) + Monica 213

# 19. Alex 1211 ( Dr. Foxing's son ) + Ava 281

# 20. Alex 1211 ( Dr. Foxing's son ) + Ava 281

# 21. Matthew 1126 ( Dr. Foxing's son ) + Shelly 1346

# 22. Matthew 1126 ( Dr. Foxing's son ) + Shelly 1346

# 23. FUTURE CELL MATCH + Sophia 196 ( Susan's daughter )

Dorrissa had made twenty-two complete matches including her and Jack's. One remaining sample belonging to Sophia, the only one there was, needed pairing. With blissful contentment she folded the list, touched it to her lips, and tucked it away in a safe place inside her handbag. She would now order something from room service and await Jack's call. He would call for sure as she hadn't heard from him all day. All she could do in the meantime was to dream of Monday and being at work when the cell samples were delivered. And that is what she did.

Jack and Steven left The Gastronome and leisurely walked along on their way to the subway. Steven and Ruth occupied a lavish downtown apartment in a building that had at one time been expensive condominiums owned by very wealthy people. When it, along with everything else, had reverted to government ownership, the building and the suites in it were kept for the exclusive use of the uppermost elite in the government.

Almost at the entrance to the subway, they were passed by two controllers walking their beat. Recognizing Jack instantly, they both gave him glowering sneers. A short distance away, both Steven and Jack heard one of the men yell out, "You're a dead man Jack."

Wheeling around, Steven shouted out, "Who said that?"

Both men continued walking, neither of whom turned around.

"Idle threats, don't worry about it," Jack said, to Steven.

"Yellow bellied cowards," Steven replied.

Once at the apartment, Ruth was delightfully pleased to see Jack.

"You didn't tell me you were bringing home a guest for dinner, Dear? What a lovely surprise. Where's Dorrissa?" asked Ruth.

"She's in Ottawa on a business trip. She won't be back until tomorrow," replied Jack.

The three of them sat down in a beautifully appointed living room and discussed the day's events over before-dinner cocktails.

"Steven has been telling me that he is seriously considering retirement," said Jack.

"Oh he always says that. I'll believe it when I see it," said Ruth. "So tell me Jack. I saw you shake hands with Ray Trandlore this morning. In your opinion is he, or is he not, a limp-wristed, sweaty-palmed, fiendish faggot."

"Ruth!" exclaimed Steven. "I told you before just because the man is unpartnered does not mean that he is gay. In all the time I've known him I've never seen any exhibited tendencies that would lead me to believe that Ray is queer. Please excuse Ruth's preposterous outburst Jack. She is not too fond of Ray."

"I haven't quite been able to put my finger on the fiendish part as yet," said Jack, with furrowed brow and whimsical smile.

Ruth threw her head back and laughed uproariously while all Steven could do was roll his eyes in defeat as he watched Jack play into her amusingly. What fun they both were to be with, thought Jack. After a bit more light-hearted banter, Ruth excused herself to go and prepare dinner. When she was gone, Jack turned to Steven and said in a ruminative tone, "Steve. I've been thinking about what you said in relation to Family Survival Groups. I explicitly concur with your point of view. I'm seriously considering resigning my appointment as government media spokesperson."

"Hey. Let's not be hasty Jack," said Steven, rather abruptly. "You do that and you'll draw Ray's ire like there was no tomorrow. Especially since he, himself, would have done it if he wanted you out. Ray's a very shrewd man and he will most definitely suspect, and rightly so, that your feelings for Family Survival Groups have considerably mellowed. Your job, your rank, everything you worked for will be put in jeopardy. What of Dorrissa? What will happen to her if you're lowered in rank? Think about that. Damn it. I wish I'd never said anything to you about my thoughts."

"But how can I go on living a lie knowing how I feel, how we both feel, about these people?"

"You go on because you have to go on, plain and simple. Don't worry about what I think. I respect you all the more for having told me. A man has to do what a man has to do, in order to survive. That is why I have made up my mind to retire. But if I was your age, to resign, it would be unthinkable; political suicide. Please Jack, for Dorrissa's sake, for your sake, for all our sakes, never mention quitting again. Don't confuse your feelings with your job. They are two different things.

"Someone has to be the media spokesperson. A compassionate person such as yourself is much better suited to be in that position for the sake of the people in those groups than someone like Ray for instance. Would a person of his disposition have aired that clip of the beating? Not very likely. And if you did resign you can bet your ass Ray would replace you with someone much like himself. Someone with fewer scruples. I'm thinking that he probably thought you were like him when he offered you the position. Anyway, you chew on that for awhile and I'll fix us another drink."

On Steven's return Jack decided to pose a question of a different ilk. "Steve. Many of these Survival Groups have been tracked down because the government, suspicious of a particular individual, had activated their Dad Chip to monitor their whereabouts. What would stop a person from removing their chip somehow, thereby being untraceable?"

"Don't think that hasn't been tried before," said Steven, sipping on his drink. "Various criminal elements in society have tried and have always been caught. The government foresaw that possibility and made allowances for it. Those chips have tiny thermostats built right into them. A person's body temperature keeps them stable. Even a high fever that comes with an illness does not affect them. But if outside air contacts them, even for an instant, the temperature drops and a warning buzzer highlighting that Crehus personal D.N.A. is sounded at the monitoring station.

"When that happens, government regulation officers swoop down and make an arrest. Any tampering of a person's Dad Chip will result in them going to prison. It is a law that is strictly enforced. The criminal element needs to be monitored and that is something I myself firmly believe in."

Jack thought it best not to continue this line of questioning. It was possible that Steven didn't know about the fatal dismantle part of the chip. The part that killed you. Yes it was possible...but...Improbable. Maybe Steven didn't want to worry him any more than necessary. Maybe he was afraid that if he let out the secret it could make its way back to expose him. In either case Jack did not wish to pursue the matter any further at this time. The part about the tiny thermostat was very interesting to know.

"Hello everyone," said Ruth, in a chipper mood. "I just have time for one more cocktail before dinner is served."

"One more cocktail and you'll be a cock-eyed cockatoo," said Steven, with a mocking smile.

"Oh get away with you," laughed Ruth, in merriment.

Steven mixed her up a whiskey sour but absent-mindedly forgot to put in the whiskey. Tasting it and making a nasty face Ruth pleaded, "You'd better put a wee drop more of whiskey in my glass if you'll be wanting any dinner tonight."

Steven responded with a prankish grin and in boyish delight said, "Did I forget to add the whiskey?"

Jack was in stitches, convulsed in laughter.

Then came a sound not unlike one would hear if they held a seashell to their ear except louder.

"Hello folks, a fine evening to you both. Steve. I just wanted to......," the voice paused. "Jack. Now this is a surprise."

It was Prime Minister Trandlore inviting himself in via the media screen.

"My, my, what do we have here? Cooking up some devious plot or rebellious scheme no doubt?"

"Right Ray," agreed Steven. "You caught us red-handed."

"Blow it out your ear," said Ruth.

"Mr. Prime Minister," said Jack, holding up his glass in the pretense of a toast.

Ray smiled passively.

"Ah Ruthie, you're ever so charming as always. That's why you are absolutely one of my favorite people."

"Let me tell....." Ruth began.

"Ruth!" said Steven, in an authoritative voice of interruption. "What's up Ray," he continued.

"Just kidding Ruth," said Ray. "The reason I popped in on you like this was to tell you about Monday. You didn't come back to your office this afternoon."

"I took a long lunch," said Steven.

"Uh huh...I see. I need you to go to Chicago on Monday. There has been a significant drop to water levels in the Great Lakes again and I think those damn Yankees are siphoning it off and sending it southward in their irrigation pipelines to feed their drought. You have a luncheon appointment at noon with the American Secretary of the Environment. Your ticket is waiting at the airport and the plane takes off at nine-fifteen.

"And those damn people phoning in. They haven't let up one iota. They've been pestering the folks at the call center all afternoon. I can see the only way out of this predicament will be a severe punishment for that whole group of controllers."

"What are you going to do?" asked Steven.

"They will all have to be demoted won't they? All except for the stupid bugger who inflicted that beating. It's off to the Hotel California for him. See what you're making me do Jack? Maybe next time you'll think twice about what you release to the public. Ah. But there is not going to be a next time, is there?"

"It's not his fault Ray," said Steven. "Walking back from lunch we passed two controllers and one of them uttered a death threat to Jack."

"Who did that?" Ray demanded to know.

"We're not sure which one it was," replied Steven.

"Are you scared Jack? I can have you fixed up with a concealed weapons permit if you like."

"I don't consider the threat serious," said Jack. "I think he was just spouting out frustration."

"Suit yourself. If you change your mind or you feel your life is in danger you let me know," said Ray."

"I will Sir. Thank you."

"Not at all, Jack. We need to stick together. I'm counting on you to help me wipe out this venomous group of survivalists and the scourge they afflict upon us. Speaking of which those fuckers in Guelph, excuse my language Ruth, continued on with their meeting today. Thursday's arrest didn't faze them in the least. Jamling was trying to reach you this afternoon. Now I know why he couldn't. You're to be in Guelph this coming Wednesday and we're going to nail those bitches. After that you're off to Sudbury. You have to be there for Friday afternoon."

"Sudbury?" said Jack, inquisitively.

"Yea, have you ever been there?" asked Ray.

"No. But I've heard about it. That's where Science North is located. It's supposed to be really interesting. Maybe I could check it out on Saturday."

"Knock your socks off. Whatever turns your crank! Don't forget to have your secretary book a flight time for you. Be there by noon at the Control Depot."

"Actually, I've heard the scenery is resplendently magnificent there. I think I'd like to drive," said Jack.

"Resplendent? I should say so. Especially in the dead of winter covered in snow. You've got gumption man I'll give you that, foolhardy or not. Oh, by the way. I heard you drove your own car to Kitchener," said Ray.

"Yes. That's correct."

"There is no need wracking up all that mileage and wear and tear on your personal vehicle. You know the government assesses you for all that additional expense when the time comes to trade it in. Take one of the institute's cars. That's what they're there for. Just make sure to keep the vehicle's mileage log book up to date."

"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir."

"Excuse me," said Ruth. "Do you mind if I serve dinner now or should I wait until everything is substantially ruined?"

"Go ahead. Don't let me hold you back," said Ray.

Ruth sat fuming in her chair.

"Just kidding," said Ray. "Go. Enjoy your meal. Bye all."

The media screen went blank.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish," said Ruth. "That man is infuriating. He rubs me the wrong way," she scoffed.

"I can tell," said Steven, highly amused.

A few minutes later Ruth called out from the dining area, "Come and get it. Dinner is served."

Following Steven in, Jack could not believe his eyes. Ruth had laid out a feast.

"Wow. This is very ostentatious of you," commented Jack.

"Nuts," replied Ruth. "Sit down and eat."

"Some wine Jack?" said Steven. "The flavor is robust. Ruth stomped on the grapes herself in the tub last fall."

"Fat chance," she said. "If that were the case you'd have drunk it all by now."

Laughter and gayety resounded in the room all throughout the meal. When it was over and everyone was taking tea, Steven came up with an idea.

"Jack." said Steven. "Ruth and I are planning a trip next month down to Florida. Just for a week to get away from the February blahs. I was wondering if you and Dorrissa could get away and join us. We'd have a blast."

"Oh Steven, what an excellent idea," agreed Ruth. Please Jack, say you'll come?"

"That's very generous of you. I'll have to talk it over with the boss."

"What's he got to do with it?" asked Ruth, pouting.

"I think he means Dorrissa, Dear," said Steven.

Jack laughed. "Yup, she's the boss."

"Oh? Well. No problem then," maintained Ruth.

"I want to look at some property down there," continued Steven, "for our retirement. You can own property in America you know."

Jack looked puzzled. "How can you take that much money across the border? The government confiscates everything after you die. They don't allow people to have outside investments. It would be impossible for the government to collect on them."

"Don't be so naïve Jack. There are lots of wealthy people in this country that have saved money and spirited it away across the border. How do you think the wealthy exist when they go south for the winter?"

"Good question," said Jack, scratching his earlobe.

"Do you know what third party holdings are?" asked Steven.

"No. I haven't a clue."

"Let me try and explain then," said Steven.

"Consider the Canadian government as the third person or, if you will, your heir. When a Canadian citizen, or couple, goes abroad and purchases something, be it stocks, bonds, property of any kind, or even opens a bank account, detailed information is kept on file and everything is considered held in legality by the Canadian government as heir apparent.

"Now suppose that person dies outside of Canada. Any holdings that they may have are now the property of the Canadian government, which of course we know as the Peoples Government. If the holdings happen to be jointly held by their partner they would not revert to the government until both named partners are deceased. That's the same way it works inside Canada. The only difference being, you have to have enough of your own money outside of Canada to live on because the government will not send payments, pensions or otherwise, out of the country. Also, you need to be in relatively good health or have lots of money because if illness strikes you are on your own in that regard."

"But the government limits the amount of money you can take out of the country," said Jack.

"That's true. I always take the maximum amount allowed each time I go and squirrel it away there. However there have been many times when I've taken much more. Do you really think they would attempt to frisk a Prime Minister? It's not just me though. There are over forty-five million people in this country yet only ten percent of them have a high enough rank to be allowed across the border. The majority of these are usually rich and powerful. They are almost all in high level government jobs. I can guarantee you none of them gets frisked either.

"It's a private club Jack and you're a member. You need to start thinking about your retirement. It's never too early to start planning for it. Hell. I bet Ray has twice as much as I do socked away somewhere. Now don't get me wrong. I don't condone it. It's just the way it is. You go with the flow or you stay put and drown. Besides, like I told you, the government collects every last penny when you're gone. The same as they would here.

"Heck, they even make money sometimes. If any of a person's out of the country holdings, real-estate, whatever, increase in value over time the government comes out ahead. That's everything in a nutshell. What do you think?" asked Steven.

"I think I better take more money with me the next time I go," said Jack.

Both men laughed heartily. Ruth had left long before to tidy up. At the 'let me try and explain' part when they had first begun to talk about money. Money matters tended to bore her at the best of times. She had just returned.

"Steve," said Jack. "Is it okay to use your phone to call Dorrissa in Ottawa? She'll be wondering where I am."

"By all means, help yourself."

Jack keyed in the number for the Empire Hotel and got connected.

"Hi, Dorrissa."

"Jack. Where are you?"

"Over at Steve and Ruth's. Steve invited me for dinner."

All of a sudden two heads, one on either side of Jack, popped up on Dorrissa's phone vision screen.

"Hi Dorrissa," they both said, simultaneously.

"You owe me a Coke," Steven was quick to say to Ruth.

"Hi guys. Jack's not up to any mischief is he?" Dorrissa laughed.

"No. He's been quite the gentleman," said Ruth, rubbing Jack's head in a playful, cajoling manner.

"Too much so," replied Steven. "You'd better get back here on the double before you lose him," he finished.

"So are you coming to Florida with us?" asked Ruth, very excited.

"Florida?" Dorrissa echoed in bewilderment. "What are you guys conniving now?"

"I'll explain later," said Jack. "What time is your plane arriving tomorrow morning?"

"Eight forty-five."

"Okay. I'll meet you at the airport."

"You might as well stay overnight as our guest here," offered Steven.

"That's a great idea. We have a nice big spare room all made up. No sense going home at this late hour," said Ruth.

"Especially to an empty house," said Steven.

"It's silly to come all the way back down in the morning," added Ruth.

Poor Jack. He couldn't get a word in edgewise. Dorrissa was splitting her sides with laughter.

"I think I've just been shanghaied," said Jack.

When the laughter had finally subsided, Jack asked, "What do you think, Dink? Is it okay if I spend the night?"

"Don't be silly. Of course it's alright. I only wish I was there too. It sounds like you're having so much fun. All of you," said Dorrissa.

"We are really. It's amazing," said Jack.

"We're just such good company," said Ruth.

"That's right," agreed Steven.

"And you, you hussy. You better keep your cotton-picking hands off my partner if you know what's good for you," Dorrissa pretended to chide Ruth.

"Of course my dear, don't you go worrying your pretty little head. I promise I'll keep my distance. Not!" Ruth said in delight.

"Don't worry about her," Steven told Dorrissa. "I put handcuffs on her every night at eleven."

"You guys are too much. I've got to go. It's been a long day," said Dorrissa.

"Goodnight. Sleep tight kiddo," said Jack. "See you in the morning."

"Goodnight Jack. Hey Ruth!" said Dorrissa. "You ever notice how much Jack and Steven look alike? They even have the same sense of humor."

"Come to think of it," said Ruth.

"I guess he's destined for great things," joked Steven.

"That's scary. Goodnight Hon', see you in the morning," said Jack.

"Goodnight Ruth, night Steven. Goodnight my prince. Goodnight all," said Dorrissa.

"Goodnight my prince?" questioned Steven. "I'm a king around here," he laughed.

"Don't you wish," said Ruth, smacking Steven lovingly on the back of his head.

"Ruth's a real card isn't she," Jack said to Steven.

"The ace of hearts my boy, the ace of hearts," he replied.

Although Ruth had retired for the night shortly after twelve, the men stayed up. They were immersed in conversation well into the wee small hours of the morning.

"Hey," yelled Jack. "It's ten o'clock."

"Don't yell at me. Yell at the pilot," said Dorrissa. "There was a storm in Ottawa and they had to de-ice the wings before take-off. The storm must have by-passed Toronto."

"How did your trip go? Everything accomplished?" asked Jack.

"It was good. I worked with one of the women there and showed her exactly what I want regarding cell requirements and characteristics. Hopefully I will not have a need for a return visit. What about you? Have a good time with Steven and Ruth?"

"I did as a matter of fact. They are both very fascinating people. I enjoyed myself thoroughly."

"What's this about a trip to Florida?" asked Dorrissa.

"I'll tell you on the way home. I came down by way of the Toronto-to-Airport subway system but we can take a cab back if you like."

"No the subway is fine."

On the way back to the transportation hub Jack told Dorrissa of the proposed trip to Florida with Steve and Ruth and their intention to purchase a winter retirement residence. She asked Jack many of the same questions that he had asked Steven. In the end Dorrissa was left in a dispositional quandary. How could she procreate the cell samples this coming week and then leave them under someone else's care next month while she was away for a week? If anything went wrong all would be lost with only herself to blame.

To wait longer, until she was back from the vacation, was simply out of the question. Time was of the essence. Besides that, her eager expectations of watching them grow to full term prevented her from biding her time any longer. At least she had a specified duration, she thought, to devise and substantiate some formative excuse for not going. She would urge Jack to go along. A son, after all, should spend as much time with his father as he could.

Dorrissa wished she could reveal to Jack her findings, but that would mean telling him of her creation plans also. No one but no one, and that indeed 'meant no one' Dorrissa had decided, would know what she was doing until the Crehus emerged as full term newborns. It was highly imperative for her to be circumspect in all preliminary dangers facing this new collection of Crehus. If she could, she would have arranged for a small apartment to be built in the lab. She would then take up residence for the duration. On the other hand, Dorrissa knew she had to be more careful so as not to draw attention to her significant amount of interest in this cluster of Crehus.

On Monday morning, shortly after arriving for work, Sloan managed to sneak away and place a phone call to Mr. Billarts private line. For the past few weeks he had been watching with growing interest Jack's episodic appearances on the media screen. Although his repugnance to Jack was self-evident he remained powerless in his ability to tear himself away from Jack's presentation of these Family Survival Groups. Some impenetrable force would always take hold, grasping him firmly until conclusion. An idea had been bandying about, back and forth, inside his head. Now in proper perspective it was ready to be heard.

"Why Sloan, my boy, what tidbit of knowledge will you be presenting for me today?" quizzed Mr. Billarts.

"You know that super jail being refurbished to accommodate Family Survival Groups?" Sloan asked.

"Yes. What about it?"

"I've got an idea," said Sloan. "What if cameras were mounted throughout the whole compound? Say a new channel for the media screen was created where anyone at anytime could tune in and watch them in their unmitigated squalor and hopelessness. A reality show so destitute in promise and inspiration it would mortify all who tuned in. Family Survival Group members especially would be intimidated and reluctant to continue knowing the fate that would befall them."

"Brilliant. That's absolutely brilliant. Did you think of that yourself?" asked Mr. Billarts.

"That I did, all by myself."

"You've told no one else?"

"No. Not anyone."

"Perfect my lad. Keep it that way. I've got a feeling the Prime Minister will be very much interested in this proposal. I shall get back to you on it in due course."

"One other thing," said Sloan. "If initiated a channel such as this would make Jack's position as government media spokesperson pretty much redundant don't you think? The Family Survival Group Imprisonment Channel would be a means unto itself."

"Quite possibly my boy, quite possibly. Have you dug up any dirt on our mutual enemy?"

"Not as yet. But I'm keeping my ears and eyes open just as you've requested."

"Good for you. Just keep digging. Sooner or later something shall turn up. You need to ask more questions of people who are close to him. Be subtle but persistent. One day, as sure as the sun shines, you shall end up being that man's nemesis."

"I can hardly wait," said Sloan.

"We'll be speaking," said Mr. Billarts.

A cold wind blew across the tarmac as Steven got off the plane on his way to meet Mr. Livingstone Richwaters, United States Secretary of the Environment. Steven had perused a portfolio of documentation pertaining to the freshwater problem, for which he was sent, on the flight over. He maintained a healthy respect for America and the accomplishments of its people. While many Canadians, such as Prime Minister Trandlore, looked down on Americans as inferior, Steven was not one of them.

His parents had instilled upon him the greatness of that nation as a cornerstone of democracy. In his many travels throughout the United States Steven had found the people to be both friendly and patriotic. He admired that. Sure in a nation of more than six hundred million people you are bound to have problems cropping up. By and large though America was prospering and none of their problems had proved to be insurmountable.

Governments however were not the people. They may serve the people but very often are found to have little in common with the average person they represent. Steven, in his many travels, discovered that to be true with governments all over the world. In regard to Livingstone Richwaters, Steven had dealings with him on two previous occasions. Once in relation to cross border pollution and the other time it concerned a similar drop in the Great Lakes water levels.

In both instances Steven had gone in as the underdog. Canada, a nation of forty-five million people, was a mere pipsqueak in comparison. His favorable negotiations on cross border pollution had earned him a personalized letter of appreciation from the Vice-President, hand delivered by the United States Ambassador to Canada. He did not fare very well on the water issue though. Steven was bound and determined to do better this time.

On arrival at the Northern Constellation, Chicago's finest hotel, Steven made his way to the main floor conference center where a symposium titled 'The Importance of a Sustainable Water Supply to the Future of our Nation' was taking place. This was basically an in-house presentation made up of dignitaries, congressmen, and diplomats from every state in the union. Steven had been assured of a one-on-one meeting with Mr. Richwaters.

A virtual smorgasbord of succulent eatables, prepared and displayed buffet style on lengthy tables in the middle of the room, were being swarmed by the decidedly hungry occupants. With drinks and good cheer, both evidently flowing from all corners of the room, this looked more to be a party or celebration instead of the serious endeavor that he was led to believe it would be.

Roaming through the crowd of indifference that lay before him he finally picked out and made his way over to where the Environment Secretary stood ensconced in conversation.

"Steven. So you found me. I'll have to pick a better hiding spot next time."

Steven smiled a low keyed smile.

"A rather large gathering of accumulative appetites if I may say so," gestured Livingstone with a motion of his arms.

"If you had said accumulative aperitifs Livingstone, I would tend to agree," said Steven, remembering that Livingstone's 'e' was silent.

"Ah, the sense of humor you Canadians have. You should come down some day and do standup. Lord knows in times like these we can use all the comedy we can get. Speaking of which, may I get you something? From the bar perhaps?"

"Possibly after. I'd really like to discuss the reoccurring and seemingly ongoing depletory water levels we are experiencing in the Great Lakes. Michigan and Superior in particular."

"All right Steven. If we must we must. There is a small meeting area over past the bar where we can be alone. I'll just refresh my drink on the way."

"Excuse me gentlemen," Livingstone said to the crowd of men he had been talking to. "Duty calls. I will speak to you all later."

After stopping at the bar and taking care of business the two men sat down in a side room to discuss the issues at hand. Steven said that he was there on a mandate from the Internal Prime Minister to return home with a concrete agreement on water usage. The diversion of vast amounts of water going to the arid Central Mid-Western United States and southern extremities for mainly agricultural purposes was having a detrimental effect on Great Lakes shipping mainly due to inaccessible docking facilities.

Livingstone rebuked this verbal onslaught by saying that a country of nearly six hundred and twenty million people needed whatever resources deemed necessary to feed and sustain their population. The United States, he pointed out, had not been blessed by the enormous water resources that were to be found in Canada.

"Not only does Canada retain a large amount of the world's fresh water but you border on an extra ocean, the Artic Ocean, also giving you Hudson and James Bays," Livingstone said.

It was the President's opinion that Canada should count its blessings and allow the United States to do the same. Livingstone pointed out that America also had shipping problems to be dealt with. Ongoing dredging in some ports of call was, unfortunately, a necessary evil. Hopefully with the spring rains in their parched southern states water diversion could be curtailed and the lake levels will start to rise.

"I cannot return home with that bit of wisdom," maintained Steven. "I need something more tangible, more specific."

"How about this?" said Livingstone. "What if the president puts forth a proclamation to customers of the Great Lakes Pipelines for voluntary water restrictions?"

"Voluntary?" questioned Steven, with a frown.

"All right then. What about this? All above average users, whether they're agricultural or industrial, pay a surtax of 'x' amount of dollars. All monies raised through this surtax shall be reinvested into the Great Lakes Sustainment Program."

"What the heck is that?" asked Steven.

"I don't know. I just made it up. We can develop a program that fights pollution, replenishes fish stocks, helps with dredging costs, whatever."

"What else can you give me?" asked Steven.

"That's it buddy. That's a start. I'll set up the program, maybe change the word program to commission and get representation from both countries to sit on a committee. That should pacify your Prime Minister Landbore," said Livingstone.

"Prime Minister Trandlore," corrected Steven.

"Whatever," remarked Livingstone.

Just then there was a knock on the door.

"Ya, what's up?" cried out Livingstone.

"Excuse me Sir. Just to let you know, the food has all been cleared away and they are about to begin the presentation. Oh yea. Last call before the bar closes."

"Good man. Say no more, say no more. Come and watch this Steven. It is supposed to be very informative. Anyway, I still owe you that drink."

Back at the Wycliffe center Dorrissa was just checking out the cell samples that had arrived by express government transport. Earlier in the day she had performed a Crehu search for Jack's half brother Bruce 187T16. Dorrissa found out that he was a former teachmaster who had worked his way up to Superintendent and was now in charge of the Morningside Child Rearing Center just outside the city of Barrie. That was not very far away at all.

Bruce had an A rating. Although previously partnered on three different occasions he was unpartnered last year, at the time his records were updated. Four years younger than Jack, he bore a striking resemblance to him. Steven definitely had dominant genes she thought.

With all the samples checked and verified, and everything stored in its proper place, Dorrissa retreated to her office with the files. During lunch hour she would return to the lab, switch the samples from her list, and leave out the replacements hidden in an out of the way spot to deteriorate. She would phone Michael with the bad news first thing Tuesday morning.

Jack had spent the day making arrangements and taking care of the preliminary steps needed for his excursions to Guelph and Sudbury. He made an appointment to tour Science North, a government mining museum. The tour would be finished by noon, allowing him time enough to go and check out the vacant storage building that was built to store nuclear waste. The mine tour would be a perfect alibi for staying an extra day. Jack had the copy of the article from Dr. Foxing's office and there was a map of its location. He was all set.

It was late in the evening by the time the symposium had run its course. In depth and interesting, Livingstone had been correct in his assessment of its intrinsic value. "Steven. There is a marvelous floor show in the hotel's peppermint lounge. What do you say we have a beer and catch a set? I would assume that your return flight is not until tomorrow?"

"I have an open ticket. I didn't realize the extent of my visit and I failed to make a reservation for overnight accommodation. I should really go to the front desk and do that now."

"With the size of this political delegation? Forget it. They're booked solid. Listen. I have a two bedroom penthouse suite all to myself. I'd consider it an honor if you'd accept my invitation to join me for the evening. You'll have your own room so I don't even care if you snore," laughed Livingstone.

"That's very generous of you indeed," said Steven.

"Na. Think nothing of it. Just being a good neighbor. And," Livingstone smiled, "I kind of like you. I can honestly say, without reservation, that there have been many Canadians I've met that I didn't like. So how about that beer?"

"On one condition," said Steven.

"What might that be?" enquired Livingstone.

"You let me pick up the tab."

"You're on," smiled Livingstone.

Both men proceeded to the lounge where they were given a V.I.P. table right in front and center of the stage. They made a conscious effort to refrain from any type of political conversation. That was passé. It was now a time for relaxation and personal enjoyment.

Livingstone, at least a good ten years younger than Steven, was a pleasant, easy going fellow of good character. A few inches taller and broader in the chest, his appearance was rounder and less rugged than Steven's. Upon mentioning his upcoming trip in a month and possible search for retirement property in Florida, Livingstone gave him a good tip on a hot location.

There were some waterfront lots south of Clearwater, on the Gulf side, that were going for reduced prices in a bankruptcy sale. He and his wife had just purchased one recently. Livingstone urged Steven not to wait the full month as the development had just come on the market and they were selling like hotcakes. Steven's interest was sparked and he said that he would definitely look into it. Livingstone wrote down the particulars and handed Steven the paper.

"So what is the biggest difference you see between our countries when you come over here?" asked Livingstone.

"The children. Without a doubt. It seems so strange to see them in the general population. It reminds me so much of growing up. That was a long time ago."

"Back before the Rod shot administration. That must be weird," said Livingston. "I remember thirty maybe thirty-five years ago, I was sent up there on business. I never made it though. They wanted to administer that damned Rod shot to me! Can you believe it? I said 'Screw You' and turned around and came home. I've never been back since."

"There was a time when it was required by law to administer it to everyone, visitors as well as immigrants. Not anymore though. It's just for immigrants now," said Steven.

"It doesn't really matter does it? Most of us have families and we all know kids are barred entrance. We don't want to go there anyway," said Livingstone.

Wishing to change a very tense and touchy subject, Steven motioned to the waitress and said, "Another round please." Looking over at Livingstone and comically wincing he said, "If I'm stuck buying, you're stuck drinking."

Their 'beer-bottle-neck' now broken, laughter resumed and both men returned to enjoying each others company as the night drew to a close. Next day, after a shower and shave, Steven thanked Livingstone once more and headed for the airport.

Early Tuesday morning Dorrissa entered the birthing lab. While everyone was involved in their normal workday routine, and no one was watching, Dorrissa retrieved the containment unit from the spot where she had hidden it and carried it out to mix with the others. "What's this?" she said, upon opening up the unit and pulling out a cell sample container.

"How did that get there?" asked Cliff, in bewilderment.

"You tell me," said Dorrissa, in feigned anger.

"There isn't just one sample here. There must be close to three dozen that have completely thawed out. They are of no use to anyone now."

"I could have sworn we put them all away yesterday. You were here with us Superintendent," said Cliff, quite scared.

"You're right Cliff, of course. If anyone is to blame it's me. I'll get right on the phone to the cell repository and tell them what happened. I take full responsibility for this tragic oversight. Perhaps they'll be able to send us some matching samples if any remain. Give me a scanner so I can record the file numbers of these ruined samples," said Dorrissa.

When she had finished gathering the information Dorrissa retreated to her office to phone Michael at the repository with the particulars. Clearly exasperated by what had happened, Michael received the news ostentatiously and said that he would send out replacement samples at once. They should be there by late afternoon and the delivery personnel must bring back the spoiled samples along with their files for verification he stated.

"Of course," said Dorrissa.

When the replacements arrived as promised and everything checked out A-okay, Dorrissa told the lab workers that everyone, including herself, must be very careful that this never happens again.

Jack had just left his office when he encountered David in the hall.

"Hi Dave, what's happening?" he said, in an upbeat mood.

"Hello Jack. Can't stop to gab, I've got a rank hearing to attend."

"Rank hearing? No one informed me."

"You're going to have to bow out of this one old chum. It's for those controllers you put the finger on last week. The top brass have given it number one priority."

"Oh, I see. Do me a favor Dave?"

"Sure thing."

"Can you drop by my office when it's over and let me know the outcome?"

"No problem," said David. "But from what I hear, it's already cut and dried."

Jack went back to his office to contemplate the outcome while David continued on to the hearing. Not only was Philip Elkvander, the Committee Chairman, presiding over the hearing but Mr. S. Herbert Smithington was in attendance which was a rare sight indeed. Eight uniformed controllers sat in the offender's booth while the hearing docket, containing the names of the charged, was read out.

"Will the offenders please stand," said Mr. Elkvander. "You men standing before me have all been found guilty of dishonorable conduct unbecoming of a controller. There is no question about it. The video taken at the time clearly attests to that fact. We are gathered here today to determine whether or not your rank standing in the community should change as a result. The Rank Committee before you, made up of your peers and sanctioned by the government, shall determine your fate. This Rank Committee is prepared to listen to any testimony that you might have to offer on your behalf. We shall start with Calvin 2253C31. You may begin."

One by one, the men spoke in defense of their actions. All were afraid to protest the cruel and unwarranted punishment being inflicted upon the two old ladies lest their fellow controllers take offense. The person responsible for striking the women in such an erroneous, ireful manner maintained that government contempt, coupled with his own personal loathing of these groups, had combined to fuel his rage and he had temporarily lost control of his emotions. He further went on to say that nothing would have gotten out of hand had the women not started shouting and screaming and trying to run away. They were resisting arrest and he just over reacted that's all.

At the end of the controllers' submissions Mr. Elkvander excused the Rank Committee so that they could deliberate. After returning from a short departure a slip of paper was handed to Mr. Elkvander by David and the offenders were again asked to rise.

The first seven Crehus, the ones who stood around heckling and allowed the violence to take place, were all demoted in rank, stripped of their jobs, and banished to different cities throughout the country where they would take up menial employment for the duration of their lives. Rodger 249C26, the Crehu directly responsible for the brutality, was sentenced to Artic imprisonment.

"No. No your honor. I won't last a week in there. I'm a controller. The other prisoners will kill me for sure," Rodger cried out in protest.

"I am not a magistrate, only a chairman. Your inexpiable guilt must be punished. The forthright contrition you have shown has no bearing on the heinous crime you committed. The government demands accountability from its employees and By Government you shall be held accountable. Guards, take him away!"

"No. Please. Mercy, have mercy I beg of you!"

The guards removed Rodger from the hearing room. Kicking, screaming and crying, it was a sight not soon to be forgotten. Cameras had been recording the proceedings for the evening viewing on the Crime Channel. The outraged citizenry had to be shown justice meted out. Prime Minister Trandlore believed it the only way to quell their clamorous outcry. The seven remaining offenders, although wallowing in their own grievous sorrow, were reminded by Mr. Elkvander of the age old proverb.

"Former controllers remember this," he said, pointing to Rodger as the guards struggled to drag him away. "There but for the Grace of Government go I. You are all now on two years probation and you may or may not be monitored. You have lost everything in your lives that you have accumulated thus far or ever valued, including your partners. From now on I'll trust you to think twice before taking any action that could result in your negative return to a Rank Review Board hearing. Guards, you may take them away. This hearing is adjourned."

On the way back to his office, David dropped in to see Jack and told him what had happened. The rank hearing had all been filmed and would be aired that evening on the Crime Channel. He thanked David for letting him know.

Jack was filled with commiseration for the men even though, by all accounts, they had received their just desserts. Mr. Trandlore, true to his word, had exacted a veritable, consequential punition. Jack still had a gnawing anguish inside of him even though he was glad that this episode was now over and done with. He couldn't forget the threat made upon his life by one of the two controllers he had recently passed on the street. He now had to remain wary and be on guard whenever in their presence until this whole unsavory episode blew over.

After dinner that night, Jack and Dorrissa turned on the Crime Channel to view the film of the controllers rank hearing. He had told Dorrissa of the verdict but never had he mentioned the death threat on his life. When Steven had informed Mr. Trandlore in front of Ruth, Jack had made both of them swear to secrecy never to divulge it to Dorrissa. They both understood Jack's reasoning and vowed to respect his concern and abide by his wishes.

"Hello all you fans of unmitigated justice out there. This is Ryan 1342N20 your Crime Channel host reporting live from the Rank Institute-Hillcrest Division for your viewing pleasure. We've got some ground breaking news for you tonight. All you fine upstanding people out there looking for deserving retribution by a government that listens, the Peoples Government, has tuned in to the right channel. The eight controllers convicted last week seen right here on your favorite channel have all been suspended in rank. The drama unfolded this morning here at the beautiful country location of this Rank Institute. It's a jewel in anyone's eye. But that's not all. Watch and see. This is your host Ryan 1342N20 bringing you all the great events to your media screen."

"That was pretty dramatic. Are you guys in competition or something?" Dorrissa asked Jack.

He laughed. "What can I say? He's a quick study."

The two of them watched as the drama unfolded. Shortly after it was over, Steven phoned.

"I heard about the verdicts handed down this morning to the controllers. Ruth and I just finished watching it on the media screen."

"Dorrissa and I just finished watching it also. I wasn't at the hearing," said Jack.

"I know. Conflict of interest rules. You weren't allowed to be there. What did you think?" asked Steven.

"Well. What's done is done. Let's hope it all blows over and we can get on with our lives," replied Jack.

"That's not the reason I called," said Steven, changing the subject.

Explaining his hot tip that he had received from Livingstone Richwaters, Steven wanted to move his Florida week vacation to next week and wondered if that would be a problem for them. Jack didn't foresee any but this was the perfect excuse that Dorrissa had been searching for to let her off the hook.

"I'm sorry Steven but it's out of the question for me right now," said Dorrissa. "Jack is more than welcome to go if you and Ruth will have him. He has been working quite hard and I should think a stress free vacation would do him a world of wonders."

Dorrissa explained to all three, since Ruth had now jumped into the fray, that she was on her own next week as Gail had been committed to working directly in the birthing lab to renew and upgrade her hands-on experience in the creation process. And no she couldn't change it as she herself had made such a big deal of its importance.

"Listen," Dorrissa added, "you take Jack along with my blessing. I'll be fine. I honestly will."

"But Dorrissa," pleaded Jack, "we've never vacationed separately before. I won't go without you."

"Jack. We'll have plenty of other vacations together I assure you. Just think of it as a working vacation. Pretend you're off across the country somewhere tracking down one of those Sup...Survival Groups. Maybe if those lots are such a good deal, as that man claims they are, you can put a deposit down on one of them for us. We will be retiring in a few years you said. It would be nice to have a place on the water near Steven and Ruth wouldn't it?"

"I suppose," murmured Jack.

"Of course it would silly. You go ahead. I have tons of work to catch up on. You have to promise me though, you will be good. No naughty behavior," Dorrissa winked, with a smile. "And you have to phone me each evening and let me know how your day was. That is a must. Okey dokey?"

"You know I will," said Jack, matter-of-fact.

"Then it's settled," said Steven, who along with Ruth had been watching and listening all the while. "We'll miss you Dorrissa. But I understand it can't be helped. Jack. I'll book the flight for a Monday departure and call you on the weekend to confirm. I guess you're off to Guelph tomorrow and then on to Sudbury right after?"

"Yes but I've booked a tour of a nickel mine on Saturday morning so I'm not exactly sure if I'll arrive back home by Saturday night or sometime Sunday."

"I'll call you around noon on Sunday. Good luck with your trip. I hope everything goes smoothly," said Steven.

"So do I," said Jack, repeating it in his head, so do I.

"Goodbye Dorrissa. Nice talking with you," said Steven.

"Goodbye Jack. Goodbye Dorrissa," said Ruth. "Don't worry Dorrissa. I'll keep an eye on him for you. Or two if need be."

"Thanks Ruth," said Dorrissa, smiling. "Bye now."

"Bye guys," said Jack.

"Why don't we turn in now," said Dorrissa. "I've got an itch that needs scratching," she laughed, enchantingly.

"And who's going to scratch it when I'm gone?" asked Jack.

"Well, Dear," Dorrissa said, enticingly. "If you do a good job tonight, I don't expect it to get itchy again until you're back."

Both laughing in the joy of each others company, they held hands, turned out the living room lights and retired for the night.

On Wednesday morning Jack got up and packed for his trip. After a light breakfast shared with Dorrissa he passionately kissed her goodbye as she left for work. With so much passion she almost didn't leave.

Jack had left his vehicle at the Rank Institute and brought home one of theirs the previous day. RANK INSTITUTE, in bold black capital letters, Peoples Government of Canada, in red, emblazoned both doors on either side of the automobile. It pays to advertise he thought disdainfully. He would rather be indistinguishable driving his own car. After what Mr. Trandlore had said, that was no longer an option.

Placing his suitcase in the trunk of the vehicle Jack made a mental checklist of what else he may need. Some tools from the garage just in case the storage building has a locked access. A flashlight, latex gloves (mustn't leave any fingerprints behind), winter boots in case of deep snow, shovel to dig out if I get stuck, towels to dry off, garbage bags for soiled laundry, roadside emergency kit (hope that's not needed), bag of energy food and bottle of Crown Royal for personal emergency. That should do it he thought.

Jack hopped in the car and headed to Guelph. He didn't pass many vehicles on the road. The majority of the population lived in city centers and had low ranks which prohibited them from having driving privileges. The traffic that he did see was almost all public transportation vehicles or government transport trucks.

The government was responsible for all movement of goods throughout the country. When Jack was a small boy, all borders to Canada were closed to non- citizens. Imported goods from the United States were off-loaded from American transport vehicles and re-loaded onto Canadian government trucks and carriers. Rail transport was far easier. After a thorough search of the freight, Canadian locomotive engineers would replace their American counterparts. This procedure would be reversed on the return trip. Although long distance American truckers were now allowed entry into Canada at border points, few crossed over. The remembered stigma of mandatory Rod shots for non citizens entering the country years earlier had not been forgotten. Canada had become the leper society of the western world. Half way through his journey Jack pulled into a hydrogen refueling station to tank up. Noticing a transport with New York plates he approached the driver.

"Hi, you American?" said Jack.

The man looked at him as if Jack was a few bricks short of a load. "Canadian," said the man. "I'm a contract driver and I get paid by American firms to deliver their goods. Why?"

"Looking at your plates I thought you might be American and I was just trying to be friendly," replied Jack.

"I don't see too many Americans crossing the border in my travels," said the man. "Most of them don't like it here. Say. Don't I recognize you from somewhere?"

"I don't think so. Well. I better go tank up. I've got a long drive ahead of me. Nice talking to you," said Jack.

Dorrissa called Gail into her office. It was Wednesday morning, January, 17, 2150. Dorrissa decided that today would be the day. "Gail. I'm going to be spending the better part of the next few days in the lab with the afternoon shift in a working environment. I'm going to roll my sleeves up and pitch right in. It's been quite a while since I took part in the birthing process from start to finish and I think that now is as good a time as any to get reacquainted with it."

Noticing the canny, scrutinizing look on Gail's face, she quickly added, "When was the last time you were involved in the creative process?"

"It's been a long time," said Gail, trying to recollect.

"Exactly. It's not a good thing to be so distant from the operation of your subordinates. We must be able to jump right into the waters and pitch in if need be without giving it a second thought. We're both getting a little rusty in that area I'm sure. I want you to take care of the day to day operation of the front office while I put some time in the trenches. Notify me only if a matter of utmost urgency crops up and you feel unsure of how to proceed. I can't recharge my memory banks if I have to keep coming out here. We'll touch base in the mornings and at the end of each day. The following week will be your turn to spend some time in the birthing lab, testing the waters and rekindling your creative skills. Any questions?" asked Dorrissa.

"No. It's actually a very good idea," said Gail.

"Thanks," said Dorrissa. She resisted the impulse to add, 'that's what they pay me the big bucks for'.

Dorrissa needed Gail to be onside more than ever now and no snide remarks or snarky snubs would benefit her goal. At precisely 11 a.m. Dorrissa called Cliff, the birthing lab afternoon shift supervisor, into her office. She gave him the exact same spiel that she had just given Gail. When finished she handed him a list of names and their files to be the day's creations. These were the files she had been safeguarding in her office and included the ones that were the matches for her and Jack's samples. Looking over the list Cliff replied, "These names don't look familiar. This isn't the list that I submitted for your approval."

"No. You're right. I'm running a bit behind and I haven't had a chance to go over those files. Gail will do them. This is a previous list that was compiled by Tom, our morning supervisor. We will do his list today. When Gail finishes checking your list she will leave that out for Tom to do at the start of his shift. I don't think that should be a problem. Do you?"

"No. No problem," said Cliff.

"Good," said Dorrissa. "I've just a few more things to take care of here and I will join you momentarily. Don't start without me."

"I won't. I'll see you in the lab," said Cliff, on his way out.

Dorrissa inhaled and exhaled deeply in a sigh of relief. Everything was starting to come together. She spent the rest of Wednesday in the lab carefully monitoring and taking part in every aspect of the creation process. She had made sure that this week's afternoon shift was made up of all seasoned professionals. There could be no room for error.

Everything progressed as planned. By day's end all twenty three of Dorrissa's hand picked matches, forty six samples in all, had been cultivated and inseminated. They were placed in life containment ventilators inside artificial wombs that received regulated nutrient sustenance. These were properly labeled with the donor names and dated appropriately. Dorrissa did this part herself. Now it was just a matter of monitoring them and watching them grow and develop, and see what sex this new batch of Crehus would result in.

Jack resumed his journey, arrived in Guelph, and made his way to the designated meeting place. It would be an understatement to say that the controllers gathered there were not overly enthused to see him. Never the less, they pacified their grouchy grumblings with fresh coffee and freshly thawed donuts.

In due course the command was given to proceed with the raid. Following the control vehicles and a camera crew in a van, Jack was taken through a plethora of back alleys amidst a maze of factories finally stopping outside of what looked to be a rundown warehouse on the city's east side. Donning protective gear, as if to face armed insurgents, the controllers broke into the building with shouts of, "Freeze, you're all under arrest!"

A group of people, mostly middle aged, were led from the building at gunpoint. With filming going on and Jack about to announce this latest government find, a man upon recognizing him yelled out, "Jack. Jack you bastard. May you rot in Hell."

One of the controllers trying to restrain him, but well aware the cameras were rolling, held in check an almost overpowering urge to beat him into submission. "You don't recognize me do you Jack? It's Don. Don from the child rearing center. How could you Jack," he hollered, "do what you're doing? May God smite you down in all his glory."

"Shut the fuck up," yelled the controller as he shoved the man into a containment vehicle. A book fell from the man's hands. Others were being forced into the vehicle and it became full. Another one was needed. In all the struggling and commotion, Jack bent down and picked up the book. It was a bible. He had heard tell of them but had never actually seen one. He opened it up and looked at the words.

Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor siteth in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is the law of the Lord and in his law doth he meditate day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper. The ungodly are not so but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away. Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgement, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous. For the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous but the way of the ungodly shall perish. Why do the heathen rage and the...

"Gimmie that," said one of the controller's grabbing the book from Jack's hands. "That's evidence buddy and illegal contraband to boot."

A different controller approached Jack. "That guy over there," he pointed to a prisoner looking out from the bars of the vehicle as it was leaving, "the one that called you a bastard. They hate you as much as we do. You're supposed to be on our side not theirs. What you did to our brother controllers was unconscionable. Sleep on that," said the controller, before he turned and walked away.

"How many did we get?" asked another.

"Twenty-three," was the reply.

"Sure as shit we hit the damn mother lode," he laughed copiously.

The rest of the controllers stood around looking ineffably pleased with their conquest.

Jack went back in his mind. Back to when he was a young boy. The barrage of animosity flung in his face had enabled him to recollect. No. Jack didn't recognize him. Not as a man. But the boy, yes, he remembered the boy. Just as if it were yesterday.

He had first met Don when he was in his tenth or eleventh year. He was a fun-loving, freckle-faced, tousle-headed boy with a huge toothy grin. With all the moving around of children, a constant hustle and bustle done exclusively to keep them totally reliant on the government for nurturing, very few friendships were formed. None of them were long lasting. Not when you were a young boy or girl. The only possible exception might be older children who may happen to graduate together.

Jack had taken a shine to Don the very first day he met him. With his goofy faces, humorous outlook, and constant practical joking, who wouldn't like Don, Jack wondered. Only together for six months, they had taken an oath of allegiance to last forever. An everlasting alliance Don had termed it. Through thick or thin, feast or famine, they would reunite when they were grown up and remain close friends forever. Jack had forgotten all about it. Until now that is. As he grew to be a man he had put childhood thoughts away with the child. That was what the government had taught their Crehus to do. Now, feeling as though he had been whacked over the head with a club, robbed of his youthful innocence, stripped naked of his values and virtues before this hyena-like mob of controllers, he was riveted in despair. It was all he could do to keep from breaking down in tears at the sheer desolation of it all.

"Hey Jack. I'm talking to you," said a voice, shaking him from his past.

He looked over to see a cameraman motioning him over. "We got it all on film man. Are you going to do a commentary or not," he asked.

Jack did a short commentary that was bereft of his usual boisterous bounce and replaced by a rather placid, benign bravado. When he was finished the cameraman came up to him and said, "That was the most lackluster commentary I've ever seen you do. Are you feeling alright?"

"Must have been something I ate," said Jack, as he turned and walked away. More than likely my self-esteem he thought to himself.

That night a vivid portrait of Don etched in the depths of his mind and the words that he had spoken came back again and again in reoccurring, haunting dreams. Enmeshed in an onslaught of carefree childhood memories, beseeching his sub-consciousness to help Don in some way, Jack awoke in a cold sweat. It was four a.m. Unable to sleep and filled with an inner throbbing agitation he decided to pack and head out on the road. He would call Steven later in the morning to see if there was some way he could help Don.

One advantage, Jack believed, of having the institute car was that it had given him access to the inner city depths. With his own vehicle he was required to park on the city's outskirts and make his own way in from there. This entailed him to travel with the camera crew prohibiting him to come and go as he pleased. With the Rank Institute's vehicle he was at the beck and call of no one.

Driving on the highway and now out of the city he was beginning to feel more at ease. Pulling over later that morning at a truck stop to refuel and grab something to eat he phoned Steven from a call booth. Explaining every detail of the events that had taken place and the personal torment he was feeling, Steven said that it was impossible for him to intervene. The transgression that Don had committed was most serious in the eyes of Prime Minister Trandlore. In a show of consolation, Steven had told Jack that in all likelihood Don would not seek refuge for himself while leaving his friends to suffer their fate. He also told Jack it was admirable for him to try and help and that he would personally speak with Don to let him know this. Steven asked Jack to phone him later that evening at his home. Jack thanked him and then continued on his journey feeling better about himself with a more defined sense of benevolent charitableness.

Jack arrived in Sudbury late Thursday afternoon. Checking into a motel this time, he unpacked his things and went out in search of a meal. After dinner and a few glasses of beer, he returned to the motel and called Steven.

Steven told Jack that he did speak with Don and told him of Jack's attempt to help him. Steven told Don his hands were tied. There was nothing he, as External Prime Minister, could do. The government laws were quite clear. By the time Steven had finished talking to Don, complete knowledge of the circumstances regarding Jack's job and the reasons for doing it were known to him. All former hostility that Don had felt and exhibited towards Jack had been entirely erased.

Don asked Steven to relay to Jack a message of sincere apology and to thank Jack for trying to help him in his predicament. It was too bad, Don said, that Jack and he could not have met after all these years under better circumstances. Perhaps in the next life he had said.

Jack thanked Steven for everything. They talked a while longer about things in general. Steven had already arranged for Monday's flight to Florida, but did not broach the subject feeling it was an inappropriate time to do so. Jack did not think to ask either. They exchanged amiable goodbyes. Jack, his head flopping down upon the pillow, immediately fell into a deep and contented sleep.

Friday afternoon proved uneventful much to Jack's welcome relief. The Survival Group raid did not pan out as intended. Unbeknownst to the controllers, the usual Friday night meeting in a private dwelling outside of the city had been cancelled. Only the two occupants residing in the home were there at the time of the raid. A thorough search had turned up no incriminating evidence.

Jack drove back to his motel to mull over his options. Taking the article he had obtained from the medical journal at Dr. Foxing's office, he again read it over. It was too far he determined to drive there and back in the daylight remaining. With few cars on the road, especially at this time of year, would his chances of checking out the building be better tonight or tomorrow afternoon? Both scenarios had their drawbacks but most important was the requirement of not being noticed. What was the most practical solution? Why a flip of a coin, of course. It was Heads. He would go tomorrow after the mine tour.

Chapter 8

It was Friday night when Dorrissa received a call from Susan Edwardianson. She was wondering if Dorrissa and Becka would like to come for dinner at her house the following evening. That was the sign there was to be another group meeting. Susan never divulged more than necessary when talking on the phone. Jack had phoned just a little before to say he would be home very late Saturday night or early Sunday morning. Dorrissa accepted the invitation for herself. She would have to inquire regarding Becka.

Jack rose early Saturday morning and checked out of his motel room. After a quick bite to eat at a nearby pit stop he made his way to Science North. When the tour was over he hopped into his vehicle and proceeded on his way to the nuclear waste storage building. It was two-thirty p.m. when he pulled up to the entrance gate.

Jack got out of the car and walked over to take a look. The facility was a gated, barbed-wired, fenced compound, which ran the entire perimeter of the building. The gates were chained and locked. He took a pair of latex gloves from his coat pocket, put them on, and examined the lock closely. It was very old and rusted. He went to the trunk of his car and came back with a hammer and a crow bar. After a few attempts the lock was broken.

Jack looked around. He was a good one hour Northeast of Sudbury. An inch of fresh snow had fallen over top of the two or three inches that had previously covered the ground. He passed no other tracks on the mile it took to drive in from the highway. This was a remote road and he felt quite safe.

Pulling the gate open, hammer and crowbar in hand, Jack walked over to the entrance door of the building. It had a large sliding door with a place for a padlock but there was none. With a good bit of force, pushing on the handle, he managed to slide the door partially open. The building was very large, two stories in height. Concrete on the outside, as well as inside, the magazine article said that it was used to encase a structure made entirely out of lead. There was no live power connected to the building. Jack walked around the entire structure with his flashlight checking on the interior. It looked to be completely sound and in good shape.

As he reached the entrance door, about to leave, he saw a car pull up and park beside his own. It was a control car. Quickly placing the hammer, crowbar and flashlight on the floor, Jack stepped outside and pulled the door shut as the controller stepped from his vehicle. He saw Jack's tire tracks leading in from the highway and came to investigate.

"Hey! What are you doing here? This is a prohibited area," said the controller in an authoritative voice.

"I was checking on this building for the government. They're thinking of using it to store radioactive medical waste. I've got the article right here," said Jack, reaching into his inside coat pocket.

"Hold it right there. Don't move," said the controller drawing his weapon. Taking a bead directly upon Jack, he said, "Hands in the air. Walk over here, slowly."

Jack did as he was told. When he reached his car he was ordered to face it, lean over with his hands resting flat on the roof, and told to spread his legs. After frisking him the controller stepped back, gun in hand, and commanded Jack to turn around.

"Hey. I recognize you," said the controller.

Drawing a sigh of relief Jack told him his name, rank and occupation while flashing his identity card. He pointed to the Rank Institute vehicle and said that he was on government business.

"That's who I thought you were. The fucking prick on the media screen," said the controller. He hacked up a phlegm-filled spittle of sputum and launched it sideways from his mouth like a missile to the snow covered ground below, without batting an eye. The controller stood there sizing Jack up with a mixture of revulsion and suspicion. He couldn't help but notice the latex gloves Jack was wearing and had forgotten to remove or the broken lock on the ground.

Seeing him stare at the broken lock Jack quickly said, "It was rusted solid. The key wouldn't work so I had to break it."

"You look like a fuckin' thief to me. Maybe I should just shoot you where you stand. I've got a lot of friends who would thank me for it."

"What.....do you mean?" asked Jack, considerably nervous.

"That controller you sent away to prison. He was a personal friend of mine. We went to the Control Academy together. Most of the boys think you're a prick and would be very upset with me if they knew I blew a perfectly good chance to waste you."

"The Prime Minister knows I'm here. You'll never get away with it," said Jack. He hoped his bluff would hold out. At the same time he mentally kicked himself for not taking up Mr. Trandlore's offer to him of a concealed weapons permit enabling him to carry a gun.

"No one would have a clue it was me, asshole. It's not like I haven't killed anyone before you know," he said with relish. "Someone has to get rid of the vermin and garbage in society today. That's why the government hires people like me. To do their dirty work," he said with a sinister, sardonic smile.

Jack looked at the man intently. He meant what he said. Eyes cold as steel, sneer on his lips, he moved his thumb to pull back the hammer on his revolver. He was definitely going to kill him!

The controller cocked his weapon and told Jack to step away from the car. In mind seething panic Jack blurted out, "I'm not alone. My cameraman is here with me."

"What? Where?" asked the controller, a bit unsure.

"Chuck's inside the building shooting footage. He might even be filming you right now. You'll never get away with it."

"Bullshit. Turn around," demanded the controller, violently jostling him as he said it. "See that door over there? Start walking. Move!" he ordered with a push.

Jack felt the gun press hard against his spine. He had bought some extra time, but only seconds. He knew he'd have to struggle for his life.

"Open the door. Easy!" said the controller. Jack pushed the door part way open. He grabbed Jack by his sleeve at the shoulder. Cautiously stepping inside he pulled Jack in beside him. Straining to see, the controller spoke up. "Hey. It's dark in......."

Jack didn't let him finish his sentence. Gun off his back, it was now or never. Coming down hard with a chop on the controller's hand the gun fell to the floor and discharged. With a tight hold on his collar, Jack punched him twice in the face in rapid succession and pulled him to the ground. In the midst of the struggling slugfest, Jack reached over and frantically felt for the hammer. Grabbing it, he delivered two swift blows to the controller's head. He stopped struggling.

The door having been left open in the scuffle, Jack could see that blood was oozing from the wounds in the controllers skull. Only breathing faintly, he could see that he was dying. He will have killed a man. It was in self defense though. It wasn't murder. But how could he explain it? How could he explain being at this building? Mr. Smithington, already suspicious of his previous detective ploys as he called them, would most certainly do all in his power to convict him.

Jack was in a haze. A million questions played havoc with his brain. What if, what if, what if? There was no way out. He would have to get rid of the body and wait until dark to do it.

Jack went to the trunk of his car and came back with some towels and plastic garbage bags to clean up the blood. His flashlight was still in the building. Not far from the turnoff to this entrance road he had noticed a sheer cliff beside the highway. He would put the body in the passenger seat of the control car, drive to the spot, and then placing the body in the driver's seat he would put the car in gear sending it over the cliff. He would have to make his way back on foot, almost two miles, to retrieve his car.

Thankfully it was a season of shortened daylight hours. The wait for darkness itself would be nerve wracking enough. He returned to where the controller lay when the last breath of life ebbed from his body. As Jack knelt beside the corpse a horrible thought took hold of him. It wouldn't be long before the body temperature dropped setting off the alarm in the Dad Chip. He had to get rid of him fast, before dark, right away. Then it hit him. Here he was sitting beside the body of a dead Crehu controller in a lead-lined building that he had come to investigate for the purpose of Dad Chip removal. He could not pass up a golden opportunity like this. Quickly turning on his flashlight Jack pushed the door so it was tightly closed.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a small pen knife he carried with him everywhere. So small in fact, that the controller had missed it in his search. Jack knelt down beside the body. Spreading some plastic garbage bags and a towel underneath the left shoulder he shone his flashlight on the man. Still wearing his latex gloves, Jack made an incision into the armpit.

"Now for the moment of truth," he said out loud. Reaching in with thumb and forefinger, feeling around, finding and removing the Dad Chip, Jack waited. Nothing happened. The chip remained intact. The lead-lined building worked and he was ecstatic. It was all true. Everything he had been told. If he opened the door now surely the chip, sending out an alarm, would soon be disintegrated by incoming microwaves and his location would be found out. Jack wrapped the chip in a towel and smashed it with his hammer. He opened the towel to look at the remnants. He swore he could see a small trace of moisture reflected from the flashlight's rays. It must be the poison he thought.

Jack leaned back to reflect on it all. He pulled out a much needed energy booster from his pocket that he had retrieved along with the towels and garbage bags earlier from the trunk of his car. Munching on a Crispy Crunch chocolate bar, with intermingling gulps of Coke, he replayed everything that had happened back in his mind. It was a little later when Jack opened the door and saw that it was near dusk. Now feeling refreshed, he proceeded to drag the body through the snow to the control car. He had been a stocky fellow and Jack fell more than once, slipping in the snow on his way over. A garbage bag had been placed over the upper body of the dead man so traces of blood would not be left at the scene. The hole in the armpit had been stuffed with the towel.

With the body now inside the car Jack went back to clean the floor of the building. Snow was brought in for a final cleaning. All soiled towels, tools and plastic garbage bags, including the ones used for the body, were double bagged and put into the trunk of Jack's car. The gun was put back into the controller's holster. After a final check inside the building Jack closed the door and retrieved a snow brush from his trunk. He walked backwards from the building to the car brushing the snow back and forth as he went. To remove, as much as he could, the visible signs of footprints. After closing the gate he replaced the chain and lock as best he could.

It was at this time that Jack made a slight change to his plans. Rather than push the control car over the cliff and return for his, he would first drive the institute's vehicle almost to the cliff, hide it discreetly and come back for the control car. That way he surmised, he could make a quicker getaway. It was always about quick getaways where Jack was concerned. Now dark enough to leave, he made sure the keys were in the ignition and the doors were unlocked in the control car before he left.

Within ten minutes Jack had come to the cliff. He passed by slowly looking for a good place to pull off and be out of sight. His had been the only car on the highway, much to his relief. After finding a nearby spot and locking the doors, he pocketed the keys.

Running and walking, mostly running, Jack made his way back to the service road cutoff. Twice, because of oncoming headlights, he had to dive into the ditch to keep from being noticed. He laid face down in the snow with wishes of invisibility darting through his mind. Not sure if it was the cold or the 'Nervous Nellie Jitters', as Dorrissa liked to call them, that made him shiver and shake, Jack ultimately made his way back to the control car. He put on a new pair of latex gloves, opened the door, and climbed in.

A sometimes, superstitious feeling would take hold of him and this was one of those times. Rapping his knuckles three times on his head, Jack said out loud, "Knock on wood." Closing his eyes, and scrunching his face, he turned the key. It started up. Throwing on the headlights he made his way slowly back to the highway. When not too far from it he killed the lights completely to make sure no other vehicles were on the road. Satisfied, he pulled out onto the highway and turned his lights back on.

Almost within sight of his destination Jack could see vehicle lights approaching. Reaching over to the body he grabbed the dead man's hat. Placing it on top of his head Jack slowed his car down. He had to look like a controller out on patrol. As the lights got closer Jack could see that it was a large truck. The other driver put on his flashing lights and pulled over to the side. Jack would have to do the same. A control car passing by without stopping would not only exasperate anyone in need of assistance but would also send up a red flag. The truck was a government transport. It was a good thing he did stop. He would have to talk his way out of this somehow. Jack came to a full stop on the other side of the two lane highway directly across from the transport driver and lowered his window. "Are you okay?" asked Jack, pulling down the peak of his controller's cap.

"Fine controller," said the driver. "I just stopped to stretch my legs for a minute. I was feeling a bit drowsy."

"You can't stop there. The curve in the road is too dangerous. Someone coming along behind you wouldn't see you until they were right on your ass. There is a side road on your right about a mile ahead. You can pull off there. And grab some shuteye if you know what's good for you."

"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir," said the driver, before starting up his truck and pulling away. Jack waited until he was out of sight. That was as close as they come.

Driving on a bit farther Jack pulled a u-turn and came back to almost where the transport had been stopped. He pulled over by the edge of the drop-off and placed the vehicle in park. Perfect he thought. He would make it look like an accident.

Jack got out and pulled the controller's body over to the driver's seat, placing the hat back upon his head. He unscrewed the knob from the end of the turn signal and placed it in the dead man's right hand, squeezing his fingers tight, thus locking it into his fist. Placing the controller's left hand on the turn signal stick, Jack pressed down hard to snap it off. He placed the end of the stick into the incision in the body's left armpit. He had previously replaced as many of the pulverized Dad Chip fragments as he could back into the armpit cavity.

Jack wanted the crash to look like an accident. The controller, while driving along, put on his turn signal to pull over. The knob came off in his hand. Preoccupied trying to replace it, he apparently looses control and veers off the road and over the cliff. The signal stick penetrates his armpit on the way down shattering his Dad Chip.

Jack wedged the dead man's foot between the brake pedal and accelerator in such a way as to rev up the engine. Closing the door and leaning in through the window he put the car in gear. Snapping back and out, over it went. Watching it traverse down, just for an instant, he quickly made his way back to where he had stashed his vehicle. Taking off his gloves and throwing them into the trunk Jack drove nonstop, except to refuel, all the way home.

"Hi. Come on in," Alice said to Dorrissa and Becka upon opening the door. "Everyone is in the parlor. Follow me. Susan will be pleased to see you both."

Dorrissa and Becka followed Alice into the parlor. Everyone they had met at the last meeting was there.

"Becka. I wasn't sure if you would make it. How nice it is to see you both," said Susan.

"An armed control force couldn't keep me away," kidded Becka.

"You must not joke like that!" said Wendy, standing upright and very distraught.

"It's okay Wendy," said Ryan, getting up and placing his hand on her shoulder in a show of comfort. "She never meant anything by it. The poor girl just got here. Please Honey. Sit back down with me."

Becka, quite taken back, did not know what to say.

"Please excuse Wendy," said Susan. "She has been through quite an ordeal. One of the people arrested in Guelph on Wednesday was a very close friend of hers."

"Oh I'm sorry," said Becka. "I had no idea."

Wendy looked up and could see that Becka was truly pained.

"I'm sorry for flying off the handle Becka, she just......" Wendy paused, tears in her eyes, "it's just that I miss her so much," finished Wendy, now starting to cry.

"We must be strong Wendy," comforted Monica. "Kate would want you to be strong," she added.

"We were just talking about those arrests before you girls came," said Susan.

"And the ones last week in Kitchener," said Elaine.

"They are all becoming so prevalent, these arrests in general," said Timothy.

"I know. It's getting quite scary," said Hope.

"I'm getting too afraid to come here anymore," volunteered Meg.

"That's just what the government wants you to think," cried out Susan. "Are you going to let them win? Should we all just throw in the towel and give up?"

"It's that government guy, that bastard Jack. Ever since he's been around the number of Support Groups being caught and prosecuted has gone up dramatically. Somebody should take him out," said Howard.

Dorrissa bristled at the accusation. She knew better than to speak up in his defense. They wouldn't listen. Not knowing Jack personally they were ignorant of his honest-to-goodness true character. One day they would all know the truth. She would tell them. Until that day came however, it was imperative for her to keep on track and stay tuned to the bigger picture.

Becka on the other hand had no personal agenda to be careful with. Speaking with a ring of obstinacy to it she said, "Jack is just a spokesperson there to do a job. If he didn't do it someone else would. He doesn't even want the job."

All faces were now on Becka. You could have heard a pin drop. Too late, she realized what she had done.

"What are you talking about? How would you know that?" asked Paul.

Moving quickly into damage control Dorrissa spoke up. "We were just talking about the guy the other day. I said to Becka after the Guelph interview, do you see that guy? There's a guy who really doesn't like his job. You can tell by the way he's talking. I can see it in him more and more. Anyway, that's what I told Becka and I firmly believe it. You saw the interview Susan. He certainly wasn't enjoying it. Don't you agree?"

"Dorrissa has a good point Paul," said Susan. "I think that if the man has a conscience it may be starting to take its toll on him."

"Then he should quit," said Timothy.

"I believe I read somewhere that he was personally appointed by the Internal Prime Minister because he looked good on camera. It was the image that the Prime Minister was looking for to bring the media screen audience on side. Do you think you would, or even could, quit an appointment made by the Prime Minister, Timothy?" asked Dorrissa.

Timothy looked down at the floor.

"And if you did resign Timothy what do you think the Prime Minister might do about it?"

"How do you know so much about this guy Jack, Dorrissa?" asked Rhonda.

Because he's my partner Dorrissa wanted to scream out. Because I know him and I love him she ached to say.

"I saw a documentary on him this past week on the media screen. Everyone has been talking about Jack. Not just you but the whole country. He's becoming, to some extent, a celebrity. It's just what the Prime Minister had in mind," said Dorrissa.

"I never saw any documentary," replied Rhonda.

"I saw it. I think it was on Tuesday," piped up Becka, valiantly coming to Dorrissa's rescue.

"I think I might have read something about that in the government media guide," said Susan, coming to her former pupil's defense. "I think we're missing the point here," continued Susan. "In lieu of all our bickering over this Jack fellow I think it only proper that we read a few words of prayer on behalf of Kate and all the unfortunate souls from the Family Support Groups that were caught recently."

Getting up from her chair Susan went over to the fire viewer and removed two bricks from under the mantelpiece. Reaching in, she pulled out a family bible.

"My partner's father was very religious," said Susan. "He made this hiding spot near the chimney when the government ordered the confiscation and burning of all bibles. It was the closest to a fire it was ever going to get he had said at the time. It's a King James Version and I'll wager that in this country they are as scarce as hen's teeth. Most Support Groups do not have access to one. I'd like to read you one of my partner's favorite passages. It's the twenty-third psalm."

Susan read the verse and then asked everyone to bow their heads in prayer with her. Dorrissa and Becka had never prayed before. They didn't know the meaning of it. Dorrissa, not really knowing why, had somehow found it quite comforting. When she had finished leading them in prayer Susan got up and returned the bible to its place of concealment.

"Listen up everyone. I have a treat in store for you this evening. I told you how my partner's father had been religious. It just so happens that he put away in hiding a copy of a once famous evangelist named Reverend Billy Graham. It is an old fashioned televised sermon that was recorded for posterity. I viewed it the other day and it's awesome. Thank God for posterity," said Susan.

How odd thought Becka. I always say Thank Government.

After the viewing in the upstairs attic the Support Group members returned to the parlor for coffee and brownies. Susan made a toast. "On behalf of us all here today I would like to formally welcome Dorrissa and Becka as new full and equal members into our group."

Everyone drank the toast and applauded. Both women were appreciatively flattered.

I have a request to make," said Dorrissa. "I thought we might play a little game before you all leave."

"What kind of a game?" Eloise asked. She had been rather quiet for most of the night.

"It will be a fun game, perfect for a Support Group like ours. I'm going to hand out a piece of paper and a pencil to everyone including myself. I want you to write your name at the top and underneath it write your two favorite names for both males and females. Make sure the first name you write of each gender is your major preference. Don't let anyone see the names you write. When you are finished, fold the paper in half and give it back to me."

"What's the purpose of this?" asked Ryan.

"You haven't let me finish," replied Dorrissa. "When I get them back I'm going to compare them and see if anyone has similar favorite names, especially partners. It will be fun."

"Why write down names for two males and two females? Why not just one?" asked Wendy.

"Think of it this way. We all gave two samples to the cell repository before being given the Rod shot. If those samples were matched and created, and the babies were given back to us to look after, we could possibly have two boys or two girls," said Dorrissa.

"That will never happen in our lifetime. Not in hers either," stated Howard, pointing to Becka.

"Isn't that what we want to happen, Howard? Isn't that what all Family Support Groups want to happen?" asked Dorrissa.

"Come on let's do it," Susan said with a show of support. "It sounds fun Howard. We can see how in tune you are with Meg," she added.

"It sounds silly if you ask me," said Howard.

"Please Dear. Let's play," Meg coaxed.

"C'mon Howard, where's your sense of adventure?" asked Monica.

"Fine, I don't care," surrendered Howard.

All in agreement, Dorrissa handed out the pencils and paper. "Make sure that the first name of both boy and girl on your list is your first choice," said Dorrissa.

When they were all returned to her Dorrissa opened them up. "Here's something interesting. Meg and Howard both picked the names Lisa, Linda, Derrick and David in that order."

Howard, looking very self-conscious, said nothing.

"We've discussed it before," chirped Meg. "He's just embarrassed to say anything about it that's all."

"Am not."

"Are so."

"Am not."

"Are so."

"Oh. Look at what we have here," said Dorrissa, breaking up their little verbal tit for tat. "Ryan and Wendy have picked girls names of Maddy and Lindsey with different spellings. Ryan likes Davis and Douglas for boys and so does Wendy but in the reverse order. Get it together guys!"

Dorrissa continued to read out the names that everyone had picked including her own. While reading the names out she was also copying them onto another sheet of paper. After a bit of playful teasing, but making sure no one felt picked on, Dorrissa stood up. "See. I told you that would be fun. I guess we don't need these anymore," she said, as she walked over to the fire viewer. Opening the viewer door and throwing the pieces of paper into the fire she secretly tucked the master list she had made between her blouse and skirt while pretending to straighten her pleat. With her back to everyone at the time, she was certain no one had seen.

After a bit more casual conversation everyone was now starting to leave. Since Becka and Dorrissa had been the last to arrive they felt it was only proper to be the last to go. On the way out Susan called Dorrissa privately aside. "Just what are you up to?" Susan asked with a sly, subtle smile.

"Now Susan, whatever do you mean?" asked Dorrissa, innocently.

"That game with the names and all. This old nose of mine smells something fishy. I feel there is more going on here than meets the eye."

"It was just a fun game that's all. Don't read too much into it," said Dorrissa.

"You know I didn't read any article about Jack in the media guide," said Susan.

"It seems no one else did either. Perhaps the guide didn't have enough notice to include the documentary in its listings," maintained Dorrissa.

"So who really is this Jack guy?" enquired Susan.

"I don't know and I don't care. Just so long as he doesn't show up at any of our meetings," Dorrissa joked.

"Don't even think such a thing!" said Susan, horrified at the thought.

"Just kidding, knock on wood," said Dorrissa, knocking on her head three times.

"There," said Susan, pointing to the hallway coat stand. "You had better use real wood."

Dorrissa knocked three times again and Susan walked her to the door. Exchanging short pecks on the cheek and a lingering hug, Dorrissa was off. She arrived home shortly after midnight with Becka in tow. Once again, Becka spent the night.

It was well past daybreak by the time Jack reached his driveway. After such a long drive it was a sight for sore eyes. Climbing out of his vehicle, he popped open the trunk and removed a green garbage bag. Walking to his garage he went inside and carefully buried it amongst a clutter of accumulated junk in the corner. He was tired and would deal with it later. Going back to the car he removed his suitcase and again checked for any visible signs of trunk contamination, such as blood. Thankfully there wasn't any. Slamming the trunk closed he heard a car drive in behind him. Quickly turning with a quirky nervousness, he saw it was just the morning delivery of the government newspaper. He walked over and picked it up. There in boldface type screamed out the headlines. CONTROLLER MISSING, FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED.

Jack went on to read the story. It basically stated that Kevin 135C14 had disappeared, control car and all, while out on patrol. A search of the immediate Sudbury area was being conducted. Fellow controllers were all in agreement that this was most unusual for Kevin. The story continued on, covering the entire front page.

Jack tucked the paper under his arm and went into the house. Walking into the kitchen he was startled to see Becka sitting at the table having coffee with Dorrissa. Thank Government music had been playing over the radio or they might have heard him, catching him off guard, going into the garage. Seeing the dubious look on his face Becka blurted out, "Surprise!"

"Gosh Jack!" exclaimed Dorrissa. "You look like death warmed over."

"What do you mean by that?" queried Jack, brusquely.

"You look so," Dorrissa paused, "so haggardly disheveled. Have you been up all night?"

"I'm tired. I drove straight through."

"Sit down and I'll fix you a coffee," said Dorrissa.

"No thanks. I'm really beat. I need to get some sleep. How come Becka's here?"

"I invited her over to spend the night. It's so much nicer than being alone all the time while you're off gallivanting."

"Gallivanting? I think not! Anyway, I'm going to bed. Goodnight ladies," he said giving Dorrissa a quick peck on the way.

"Good morning Jack," they both replied.

Jack went off to bed while Dorrissa and Becka continued with their verbal intercourse. After awhile Becka inferred it was time she should be leaving. She helped Dorrissa tidy up and then Dorrissa drove her home. They heard about the missing controller on the way to Becka's.

"Sudbury? That's where Jack was," said Dorrissa. A chill went down her spine.

"Just a coincidence," said Becka.

"Of course it is. Oh no. I forgot to ask him how his trip was. I always ask," said Dorrissa, somewhat peeved.

"That's okay. He was really tired. You can ask him later. Thanks a lot Dorrissa. I had a swell time," Becka said as she got out of the car in front of her host's house.

"I did too Becka. Have a good week. I'll talk to you soon," said Dorrissa.

When she got back home she quietly crawled in beside Jack who was sound asleep. It had been a late night for her also. A perfect time for a nap she decided.

Shortly after noon they were both rudely awakened by a ringing in there ears. That infernal contraption thought Dorrissa as she grabbed for the phone. "Hello?" she mumbled.

"Dorrissa? Don't tell me I woke you?"

It was Steven.

"Alright, I won't tell you."

"Is Jack there?"

Looking over at Jack and seeing him in a semi-muddled state, said, "Steven's on the line."

Taking the phone from her grasp Jack said hello.

"Jack. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"No. It's okay. I just got home late that's all."

"I wanted to let you know that I have our flight confirmation. We leave tomorrow morning at ten-fifteen. Get there early for the security check," he reminded Jack.

"Sure thing."

"How was Sudbury?" asked Steven.

"A waste of time," Jack said trying to sound indifferent.

"Did you hear about the missing controller up there? It's front page news."

"Yea, I saw the headlines in this morning's paper. He'll probably turn up," said Jack.

"How was Science North?"

"That was the only good part of the trip. Listen Steven, can I get back to you later?"

"No need. I just wanted to tell you about the flight. See you tomorrow."

Jack passed the phone back to Dorrissa after saying goodbye.

"What did he want?" she asked.

"Just to let me know the trip to Florida is all set. We leave tomorrow morning at ten-fifteen."

"I'm going to miss you a whole lot you know," said Dorrissa, cozying in on him.

Smiling, and now much more awake, Jack said, "I think I miss you already." Taking Dorrissa in his arms he kissed her passionately before ravishing her completely.

Later that evening after dinner and momentarily relaxing in front of the media screen the program they were watching was interrupted for an important update. The missing Sudbury controller had been located. It appeared that he had lost control of his vehicle and had driven over a cliff outside of the city limits. The controller was killed but the investigation is continuing. Recent tracks in the snow, their distinctive markings showing it to be from a government transport truck, were found just ahead of the accident scene. Government dispatchers were going to be notified to find and question the driver of this vehicle. Any new information regarding this terrible tragedy would be forthcoming as soon as it was available.

"That place you visited, Science North, do you think that's close to the location where the accident occurred?" asked Dorrissa.

"I have no idea," pretended Jack. "I'm not at all familiar with the area. Dorrissa, do me a favor?"

"Your wish Sir is my command."

"There is some old junk I want to toss out into the garbage tomorrow. It's in the garage. I was wondering if you could run me a nice hot bath. I shouldn't be too long."

"Do I get to join you?" she asked, with anticipated delight.

"Tell you what. I'll meet you in it."

"Deal," said Dorrissa, getting up to go to the bathroom.

Jack went out to the garage. He meticulously cleaned off the tools and put them away. The bloodied towels and plastic garbage bags were placed in a small cardboard box by the inside entrance door. After piling a small amount of garbage by the curb he went inside the house with the cardboard box. Walking over to the fire viewer Jack opened the viewing door, threw the box inside, closed the door and turned up the fuel intake. Being an automated wood pellet stove, it would burn fine. Watching it disintegrate he was reminded of the resulting serendipity that had brought him to this moment in time. All that remained was the safe removal of their Dad Chips.

As the flames died down he left to go have his bath. Walking into the bathroom he saw Dorrissa swallowed up in a bevy of bubbles, eyes closed, as if sleeping. She looked so beautiful. Opening up one eye, sort of smiling, she said, "What kept ya?"

The next morning Dorrissa got up early to fix a nice breakfast before she left for work. In all the years they had been together they had never been apart for the length of time that they were about to be. She knew she would miss Jack something awful. At the same time she relished the idea of him spending time with Steven. Dorrissa wished she could reveal Steven's true identity to Jack. She also wished she could go along. But deep down she knew she couldn't. She was a mother now and maternal instinct would not let her.

Over breakfast they talked about Jack's trip and the possibility of him purchasing a lot on the water. Only a fantasy he thought. Dorrissa joked and mentioned that a group of Family Support, or rather Survival members, heard he was leaving and were going to the airport to see him off. They were safe in the knowledge that there would be no further raids for at least a week. Though uneasy at that statement, Jack managed a small chuckle.

"Do you think you'll have to go back up to Sudbury when you return?" asked Dorrissa.

"Not unless those people are complete fools," Jack answered. "They can thank their lucky stars they weren't caught. I personally don't think you'll see them getting together again. The government wouldn't have even known of their existence if it wasn't for that lady in Montreal."

"What do you mean?" inquired Dorrissa.

"She was a member of a Survival Group caught a few months back. Under excruciating interrogation, individuals are forced to inform on people and name names. One of those named was a woman in Sudbury. She was immediately monitored and has been under surveillance all this time."

Dorrissa sat bolt upright in her chair. Her dire look of concern was not lost on Jack.

"What's wrong Dorry?"

"You mean they torture them? The government tortures these people?" she asked in mixed fear, alarm, and indignation.

"I'm not sure what they do. All I know is by the time they are finished with them they have the information that they want."

Unable to control herself any longer Dorrissa burst into tears. "It's all so hopeless," she cried. "These people, trying to change everything, trying to make a difference, it will never happen," she said. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Jack went over and embraced her, holding her close to him, trying to comfort her.

"You know Honey. I feel for these people too. There is nothing more I'd rather do than quit this job. They can stick it where the sun doesn't shine. You know that Guelph raid I did last week?"

Dorrissa, blinking tears, pulled back to look at him.

"There was a man there, a Crehu that I was friends with once, so very long ago."

Jack went on to tell her everything that Don had said and all that had happened during the Guelph raid.

"In the aftermath of it all I phoned Steven to ask if he could help with some form of intervention. There was nothing he could do other than relay my profound sadness to Don in the whole affair."

Tears were now welling in Jack's eyes also. "You know what he said? What Don said? He apologized for his profane manner. He wanted Steve to let me know. Can you believe it? A man being sent away to Artic imprisonment for the rest of his natural life apologizes to me. The person that helped put him there. His one time, supposedly best, buddy."

"You did nothing of the sort Jack," said Dorrissa, kissing his tear-stained face while holding him close in a rebirth of reinvigorating strength. "All you did was report on the events. He understands that and that is why he apologized to you. He knows you're still his friend."

"Look Dorry. I'll call Steven. I'm going to bail on this trip. I just want to stay home with you."

"You'll do nothing of the sort," demanded Dorrissa. "You go and enjoy yourself and that's an order. I'll be fine and so will you once you arrive. It's just what the doctor ordered. I'll look forward to hearing from you later this evening."

"But....."

"No buts about it. Go get your things. Your bags are packed and you've just been given your marching orders," smiled Dorrissa, putting on a brave face.

"I'll call you tonight Hon'," said Jack, getting into the company car. He had to return it to the institute and pick up his before driving to the train station.

"You bet your britches you will," said Dorrissa, smiling and waving goodbye as he drove away.

Once out of sight, Dorrissa turned around and ran back into the house. In a rather hectic and frantic state she quickly keyed in Susan's number. Already up and about, Susan answered the phone.

"Susan it's me, Dorrissa. I have to talk with you. It's most urgent. Not now. Can I see you tonight? Somewhere public."

Listening intently Susan answered, "Do you know The House on the Hill in Bradford?

It was an old fashioned pub and dining establishment.

"Yes I do," answered Dorrissa.

"Meet me there at six-thirty," said Susan.

"I'll be there. And Susan, don't talk to anyone today. Not anyone. And come alone."

"All right Dorrissa. I'll see you then."

Something drastic has happened Susan thought. What could it be?

Dorrissa locked up and drove to work. It would be a very long day and she couldn't wait until it was over.

About the same time Jack, Steven, and Ruth were boarding their plane, Sloan got a phone call at work.

"Sloan my boy, how are you doing this fine day?" asked Mr. Billarts.

"Very well Sir. And you?"

"I'm fine. The reason I'm calling is to let you know the good news. The Prime Minister liked that idea of mine. The one about placing the cameras throughout the super jail. It should be ready for use before the end of the month."

"Your idea Sir?" inquired Sloan, clearly vexed by his imprudence.

"You know what I mean boy. What did I tell you? You play ball with me, I'll play ball with you. Get my drift?"

"Sort of," said Sloan.

"I've got a break for you kid. I'm sticking my neck out now in offering you this."

"Yes Sir," said Sloan.

"There is an opening on the Teachmasters Review Board. It's a junior position. A learning position but it is a foot in the door. I would have to fast track a rank change for you to an 'AT' meaning an A in Training. The Teachmasters Review Board is located in Downtown Toronto so it will be a lot closer to your space and much more convenient. Of course it comes with a raise in salary. What do you say?"

"What exactly is a Teachmasters Review Board?" asked Sloan.

"Where you bin kid? Living in the dark ages? The Teachmasters Review Board reviews teachmasters that have been referred to them for some disciplinary reason. It is the board's right to raise or lower their rank, to determine if they get to continue working, and where they will work. I dare say you would shine in such a position. It's somewhat similar to a Rank Review Board but deals exclusively with teachmasters. Part of the job also entails inspections of local child rearing facilities to view teachmasters on their home turf."

"When can I start?" asked Sloan, exuberantly.

"Next Monday. I'll notify your boss about your new position this morning."

"I...I don't know what to say."

"Forget it kid. Just remember who your friends are. One hand washes the other, right? You stick with me and I'll take you on a ride that's indescribable."

"Thanks Mr. Billarts. Thanks a lot."

"I'll be talking to ya kid."

Sloan sat in transitory splendor as he tried to envision his new position. Just after spending an entire momentous but intoxicating (in more ways than one) weekend with Trent, this new job was the icing on the cake.

Dorrissa arrived at work and the first thing she did was to check on the developing fetuses in the birthing lab. Everything seemingly in order, she left Gail to reacquaint herself with the creative process and returned to her office. As the hours slowly slipped by and the working day came to a close Dorrissa dashed off to meet Susan at The House on the Hill. She was waiting there when Susan arrived.

"Dorrissa. What's going on? What is it that's so urgent?"

"Not here. Let's get a table first."

After they sat down in a sparsely congregated section of the restaurant Dorrissa looked solemnly at Susan and said, "We have to disband the Support Group right away. Everyone's in danger."

"What are you talking about?" said Susan. Lines of grave concern furrowed her brow.

"I was talking to a government worker this morning. He told me that the rising increase of Support Group raids are the direct result of coercive methods used to make people previously arrested in similar raids, name names. Once divulged, the government monitors these new people and puts them under surveillance."

"But no one knows of our meetings," maintained Susan.

"What about Wendy?" replied Dorrissa. "Remember how upset she was about her friend being caught in the Guelph raid last week? That person, Kate I believe her name was, could have given up Wendy's name under interrogation and the government could be monitoring her right this instant as we speak."

"That's preposterous. None of our brothers or sisters would put one of us in danger. We are made of sterner stuff than that," said Susan.

"Are we?" replied Dorrissa. "That man said that the government has ways of getting any information it wants. We are all in danger if we continue to meet. Please believe me."

"Who is this man you speak of and why did he tell you this? What methods are being used by the government to obtain this information?"

"The man is a friend. His name is not relevant. He did not elaborate on the methods used, only that they worked. The increased number of raids is the proof."

"For the life of me there is something that you are hiding Dorrissa. If you want me to take you seriously you must level with me."

"Trust me Susan. I beg of you. I cannot say anymore," Dorrissa implored.

Susan pondered Dorrissa's unflinching, staunch request. "What do you want me to do?" she finally said.

"You must get hold of everyone, Wendy and Ryan first. Tell them what's going on. Don't contact them from your home and under no circumstances convey this message over any phone."

"How long must we wait before we can meet again?" asked Susan.

"That's anyone's guess. Three months? Six months? One year? I have no idea. We just have to sit tight and see what develops."

"Button up, here comes the waitress," said Susan.

After a light meal the two women departed for home. Neither of them knew how long it would be before they could see each other again.

Jack phoned Dorrissa that evening to tell her all about his fun day. After checking into a nice motel outside of Clearwater they went and spent the afternoon on the oceanfront beach. He had a real porterhouse steak for dinner. They would go looking for vacation properties in the morning. Jack told Dorrissa that he loved her and missed her and would phone her tomorrow evening.

Later, as Dorrissa was about to go to bed, an update on the dead controller came on the media screen. She turned up the volume to hear it better. The government transport driver that pulled over to the side of the road just ahead of the site where the fatality occurred had been located. He gave a statement to the investigative team stating the controller had spoken to him from the other side of the highway. He did not get a good look at the controller's face because it was getting dark. He also remembered the controller had pulled the peak of his cap down over his eyes. The investigation is continuing.

The next few days passed by for Dorrissa in a humdrum routine. Jack phoned each night like clockwork to give her a chronology of the day's events. Steven and Ruth had looked at some properties but nothing had jumped out at them. The three of them went deep sea fishing and Ruth caught a shark. Steven and Jack both took turns helping her land it. They were going sightseeing on Friday at the Everglades National Park. On Saturday they had an appointment with yet another real estate agent.

Although he was enjoying himself immensely, Jack reiterated his longing to be home and back in her arms. After their conversation ended Dorrissa daydreamed of Sunday when Jack would be returning.

On Friday morning Dorrissa phoned Linda, superintendent of the Morningside Birthing Lab just outside of Barrie. "Linda. Hi it's Dorrissa. Long time no see."

"You're telling me," agreed Linda. "I haven't heard from you in ages. What have you been doing with yourself?"

"Same old, same old," said Dorrissa. "The reason I called is that I was thinking of dropping by for a visit on Monday. Compare notes so to speak. Perhaps take a tour of your complex. I see you have a new superintendent of the child rearing center over there."

"You mean Bruce. What a dreamboat. He transferred over from the Peterborough Center last fall," said Linda.

"Good looking eh?"

"I'll tell you girl. If only I was single. He's a real catch."

"I was thinking maybe we could do lunch?" said Dorrissa.

"That sounds great. Is Kevin still the superintendent of the child rearing center there?" asked Linda.

"The last time I checked," laughed Dorrissa.

"You should see if he wants to come too and maybe we could make it a foursome."

"Let me check with him and I'll phone you back this afternoon," replied Dorrissa.

"Okay. I'll check with Bruce and I'll talk to you later."

By late afternoon it was confirmed that Kevin would come along and all four would have lunch together on Monday. Dorrissa then called up Becka to invite her out for dinner that night. She had not told her about the end of the Support Group meetings.

Becka was overjoyed to hear from her and said she would be ready for six. That evening at dinner Dorrissa explained the apparent danger of continued meetings involving the group members. Although Becka would miss them, and the thrill they entailed, the scare of what could actually happen was more than enough to gain her agreement. After dinner Dorrissa invited Becka back to spend the night. She could not describe the closeness she felt to Becka. There was a definite bond between them. This is what it must feel like to have a sister she thought. Looking at Becka, Dorrissa believed she must feel the same way. Becka was still at Dorrissa's on Saturday afternoon when Jack called.

"Quick Becka. Go over there, out of the way of the monitor."

"Dorrissa," Jack said in very high spirits. "We're land owners."

"What!" exclaimed Dorrissa.

"We are land owners. I put a down payment on a beautiful lot right on Tampa Bay. It goes out to the Gulf of Mexico."

"You didn't!"

"Oh yes I did. Steve and Ruth bought the one next door. They are with a developer right now picking out house plans. Can you believe it? Even after the fact, I find it still hard to comprehend," said Jack.

"But Darling how? I figured you were just teasing with me when you first mentioned it. Oh wait. I've just got to see it. How big is it? How much did it cost? How will we pay for it?"

"Hold on, one question at a time," laughed Jack. "We've taken pictures of the property and surrounding area. You shall see them tomorrow. It's a waterfront lot backing right onto the bay. It has an eighty foot frontage with a two hundred and twenty foot depth and is all reclaimed swampland that used to sit under water. Trees and flowering bushes have been planted and it's truly beautiful, as is Steve and Ruth's."

"And?" questioned Dorrissa.

"And they cost one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars American."

"JACK! Where are we going to get that kind of money?"

"We'll pay it off over time. Don't worry. I've got it all figured out. Think of it as an investment for our future. Land prices are continually rising here so there is no way we will lose on it. I'll explain it all in detail when I see you tomorrow. One more thing," said Jack.

"I'm listening."

"No one must know about this. It's our personal business and must remain personal okay?"

Well aware that Becka had possibly been listening to their conversation from the corner of the living room, Dorrissa said, "Okay Jack. What time does your flight arrive tomorrow?"

"One p.m. Meet us at the airport and we'll all go out for a late lunch and fill you in."

"I'll see you then," said Dorrissa.

"I miss you doll face."

"I miss you too."

"Tomorrow then," said Jack.

"What was that all about? What did Jack buy?" asked Becka, being her usual nosey self.

"He got me a present. It's a secret though so I'm not allowed to say."

"No fair," Becka said with a pout. "I'm just dying to know."

"Really Becka? Tell you what. When it isn't a secret anymore you'll be the first to know."

"Deal," said Becka, laughing.

Becka stayed over again Saturday night playing games and yakking, each enjoying the other's company to the hilt. Dorrissa dropped her off at her residence the next morning on the way to the train station where she would continue on to the airport.

"Yoo-hoo, Dorrissa," waved Ruth frantically. "Over here."

Dorrissa looked up from the periodical she had been browsing through to see Jack, Steven, and Ruth coming towards her. Getting up to greet them slowly, as not to draw attention, Dorrissa leaned over and whispered in Jack's ear, "Darling. How I've missed you so."

Jack smiled and said, "Come on. We're going to get our luggage and then we'll blow this pop stand."

The four of them proceeded by cab to a mid-sized restaurant not far from the airport. What purported to be an afternoon luncheon, turned into an evening dinner engagement with the time passing by ever so quickly. They told Dorrissa of the previous week's events which included swimming, fishing, sightseeing and real estate hunting. She looked at all the pictures they had taken. Steven had prints made from his digital camera. Although the majority of people who still took pictures entered them directly onto their computer, Steven (being an old fashioned guy) was one of many who still enjoyed colored prints and refused to succumb to the inevitable demise their detractors and pretend soothsayers had predicted.

"Oh it's beautiful," said Dorrissa on seeing their new lot. "I just can't wait to look at it in person."

"You should have come," enticed Ruth.

"I couldn't," maintained Dorrissa.

"I know. Next time Dear. Our house should be ready by the end of the summer," Ruth continued. "We can all fly down and stay there together. It will have two separate guest bedrooms, three in total." Ruth clapped her hands in unraveled excitement.

"That sounds marvelous," said Dorrissa, joining in with Ruth's exuberance.

"I've come to a decision," said Steven, putting down his wine glass. "Tomorrow I make it official."

Everyone at the table stopped talking to look at him.

"Tomorrow I tender my resignation, effective immediately."

"Steven Darling you're serious," said Ruth, in awe.

"I most certainly am. I'm on the threshold of my seventies and it's time for an old codger like me to be put out to pasture. I certainly haven't accomplished everything I had hoped to. But at this stage in the game, with Ray still holding onto the seat of power, there is nothing more I can do."

"Are you sure about this Steve?" asked Jack.

"I couldn't be any surer. I've been thinking about it seriously for months now. An old workhorse like me needs to realize his limitations. Ruth and I can now finally begin to enjoy the last of our years together in serenity and contentment. What more could anyone ask for?"

"Congratulations Steven. And you Ruth, I wish you both the very best," said Dorrissa feeling saddened by a perceived loss of their new-found friendship.

Catching her melancholy mood right away Steven quickly spoke up. "Hey. Don't you be forecasting our eulogy just yet," he said with a smile. "You can't get rid of us that easily. In fact, I was hoping you would both come up to our cottage for Spring Day weekend. It's the third weekend in May of course you know."

Brightening up immediately Dorrissa beamed. "Really? We'd absolutely love to. Wouldn't we Jack?"

"That goes without saying. So Steven," said Jack, pun intended. "When are you going to spring it on your old nemesis?"

"First thing in the morning. I'm going home to write it up tonight and I'll submit it directly upon my arrival."

"What do you think Mr. Trandlore will say?" asked Dorrissa.

"Not much he can say is there?" replied Steven.

"Never mind, I'm really glad you're packing it in Dear," said Ruth. "You should have heard what that bastard had to say to him when he came back two weeks ago from America."

"The trip you went on about the low lake levels?" inquired Jack.

"That's right," answered Ruth. "He told Steven that only a spineless weakling would return home without a firm commitment on their part to reduce water usage in the Great Lakes. Imagine the gall of the man."

"Go figure," said Jack.

"It doesn't matter Ruth. I'm through with all that now. We'll close that chapter and get on with our lives. Our years ahead may not be many but I guarantee you they shall be the best," promised Steven.

"A toast to your retirement," said Jack. He held up his wine glass wishing it was champagne instead. "May it be a long, healthy, and happy one."

On the way home from the restaurant Dorrissa told Jack of the trip she would be making to the Morningside Center on Monday with Kevin. Depending upon how everything went she should be home at her regular time.

On Monday morning Steven submitted his resignation to Ray Trandlore as planned.

"This is certainly short notice Steve. Effective immediately it says?" questioned Ray.

"What's the point of hanging around? I'm sure you'll have no problem replacing me," said Steven.

"What are your plans?" asked Ray.

"Just some R&R for the time being. I think Ruth and I will take a trip. Go away for a month or so to a warmer climate, come back, relinquish our apartment and move up north."

"To your cottage? In no man's land? You'll go stark raving mad in no time at all."

"We'll see," said Steven.

"Everything the city has to offer you and you're moving up north?"

"It's time for a change of pace. If we find we're going bonkers we'll make different arrangements. You surprise me Ray. I didn't think you cared about our well being."

"Listen here Steve. We've been together a long time. I find a statement like that to be quite offensive and a touch hurtful."

"Don't tell me I detect a hint of jealousy in that comment," said Steven.

Ray looked at him and smiled. "I never could fool you could I."

"You put on a good show Ray but it's over. For me anyway."

"I will schedule a press announcement for this afternoon. You can hang around until then can't you?" Ray asked.

"Sure thing. I've got to go clear out my office anyway," said Steven.

Sloan went into the building and took the elevator to the thirteenth floor. My lucky number he thought to himself. He was introduced to his new associates who would be sitting with him on the Teachmasters Review Board. The chairman, Corey 132A+10, said in truculent assertion for all to hear, "Are you sure someone did not make a mistake? You look to be a bit young for this job."

Walking up to Sloan he raised his hand and said, "What's this?" Flicking his finger by the side of Sloan's head he pulled it back to look. "Just as I thought. Still wet behind the ears."

Everyone laughed. Everyone that is, except Sloan. They were all laughing at his expense, the butt of an office joke. He could feel the rage building inside of him but said nothing. He would not give this impudent asshole cause for satisfaction in humiliation at his expense.

"How old are you boy?" Corey asked.

"Old enough to kick your ass old man if you touch me again."

"Spunk eh? Good for you. That's what we need more of around here."

"I'm in my twenty-first year and a fast learner. Maybe by this time next year I'll have your job," said Sloan, abrasively.

Now the tables had turned and the office personnel were this time laughing at Cory. Sloan, who had firmly put the chairman in his place, noticed the enormous offense that had been taken. It made him smile.

"Well you are a snot nosed little bugger I must say," laughed Cory, after recovering from his momentary lapse of composure. "I'll definitely have to keep my eye on you. Karen. Take Mr. Sloan here to where his new cubicle is located. She will show you what your job requirements are. We shall talk later."

Karen took Sloan to a small area enclosed by room dividers and pointed out his desk. She stayed with him the rest of the day to explain the job details to him.

When Jack entered his office on Monday morning he was greeted with a big hug by Becka.

"What's this?" he asked, taken by surprise.

"Oh nothing. I just missed you that's all. How was your trip?"

"Fantastic. Couldn't be better," he replied.

Jack went on to tell her about everything except the real estate purchase he had made.

"Aren't you leaving something out Jack?" Becka asked tauntingly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I heard you purchased an expensive gift for Dorrissa," she joked.

"What!" Jack exclaimed. He was rather thrown for a loop.

"Relax silly. She didn't tell me. I was there when you called. I guess I might have overheard a bit but I wasn't eavesdropping. I promise. I asked Dorrissa but she said it was a secret surprise. Did she like it?"

"I don't know. She hasn't seen it yet," said Jack, stretching the truth. "I'm waiting for a more appropriate time. You'll just have to wait until then to ask any more question's you nosy naughty," said Jack, kindly admonishing her.

Just then the phone rang.

"Is Jack in yet?"

It was Mr. Smithington.

"He's right here Sir. Just one minute please," said Becka. "It's the boss," she whispered giving him the phone.

"Hello Sir."

"Jack. I want you to come down to my office right away."

"I'll be right there Sir," he said hanging up. "I wonder what the old man wants now."

"Maybe it's about the two Law Enforcers that were here last week," said Becka.

"Two Law Enforcers?" asked Jack. A nauseous feeling erupted in the pit of his stomach.

"Yes. They were here looking for you."

"What on earth did they want with me?" he asked, reaching out for support from a chair in front of him.

"Something about the dead controller who was found in Sudbury a couple weekends back. It happened when you were up there. Did you hear about it before you left?" asked Becka.

"Maybe vaguely, I don't recall. It's got nothing to do with me," lied Jack.

"Of course not," said Becka. "You'd better not keep Mr. Smithington waiting."

"Right, I'll see you later."

Jack could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His week of vacation had all but erased the terrible memory of that event from his mind. Now it was all coming back to him in waves of indigestion. He went into the washroom to wipe his face. As the fear and dread built up inside of him Jack rushed to a cubicle where he immediately regurgitated the contents of his stomach. He grasped hard, with both hands, the seat of the toilet. Get a grip on yourself man, he thought, they don't know anything. If they did he would have been arrested at the airport. At the very least they would have been waiting for him when he arrived home.

Jack flushed the toilet, washed his face, and rinsed his mouth. After taking a few deep breaths to stabilize his senses he continued on to Mr. Smithington's office.

"Come in," said the usual loud gruff voice. "What in Government's Name kept you?"

"Sorry Sir. I was just telling Becka about my vacation."

"You can bloody well do that on your own time Jack!" said Mr. Smithington, in a red-faced, greatly cantankerous mood. "You're on my time now and I'm a busy man."

"Sorry Sir."

"Jack you're in a lot of trouble."

"Excuse me Sir?"

Jack was so glad that he had thrown up already. He wouldn't have been able to make it through this if he hadn't.

"There were a couple of Law Enforcers here last week looking for you. They wanted to question you about a dead controller that was found in the Sudbury vicinity the weekend you were there."

"Question me Sir?"

"That's right. I told them you were on a week's vacation and they wanted to know where you lived so they could perform an intrinsic search of your vehicle."

"A search of my vehicle?"

"That's right. For Pete's sake stop repeating everything I say."

"Sorry Sir."

"I told them you made that trip driving one of our vehicles and it was parked right here, just outside. To cut to the chase, they went and gave it a good once over. I was with them. That's when we found it."

"Found what Sir," Jack gulped. He could feel his head spinning.

"That damn logbook Jack. You forgot to fill out that damn logbook. You're going to get a citation in the mail. There is a two hundred and fifty dollar minimum fine for using a government vehicle and not filling in the logbook.

"And I'm sorry but this department cannot help you with that. I tried explaining to them that it was your first time using a government vehicle on business, unfortunately to no avail. You will still be held accountable. They assured me that since it is your first offense the minimum fine would prevail. You can plead no contest and remit the sum by mail or you can fight it at a tribunal if you wish. That could cost you more than minimum if you lose however. It's your decision."

Jack could not believe what he was hearing.

"Did I have you a bit scared Jack?" laughed Mr. Smithington. "Serves you right for all the things you put me through from time to time. That dead controller they found up in Sudbury, by the way, had his death ruled suspicious by nature. He was not belted in and he should have been even though his injuries are consistent with the way the crash happened. All out-of-towners registered overnight in the surrounding area were paid visits by controllers and asked if they had seen any suspicious goings on. I gave them my utmost assurance that in no way did you know anything or you would have reported it. When they checked your logbook and found no entries, and seeing the large amount of mileage that had accumulated, the Law Enforcers became quite concerned. Then we did the math. Guelph and back, Sudbury and back, and then we found a parking stub for Science North on the dash.

"The enforcers checked with the museum and it was verified that you had taken a tour there on Saturday morning. That would account for the additional miles that were racked up on the vehicle. Those enforcers were pissed though. They said they would write you up for a citation and send it in the mail just the same. I haven't heard anymore in the news about that dead controller though. With no clear cut evidence it will probably go down as death by misadventure or something like that. So anyway, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Jack smiled broadly. "Can you lend me two hundred and fifty dollars?"

"Get the hell out of my office! And don't let me see that ugly mug of yours back here anytime soon," shouted Mr. Smithington.

Wiping the smile from his face, Jack said, "Yes Sir. No Sir," and left in due haste.

Dorrissa and Kevin pulled up in front of the Morningside gate. "We have an appointment with Linda the birthing lab superintendent," said Dorrissa.

The guard took their names and confirmed their appointment. After a thorough vehicle check, which included the trunk, he allowed them entrance to the compound. Linda had been notified and she came to meet them.

"Dorrissa, Kevin, so nice to see you both. How was the drive?"

"It was quite serene. The roads were great and there was very little traffic. So tell me Linda. What have you been up to?" asked Dorrissa.

The girls exchanged typical gossip for a few minutes and then Dorrissa, realizing that Kevin was feeling like a third wheel, included him in the conversation.

"Kevin is looking forward to meeting Bruce the new child rearing center's superintendent," said Dorrissa.

"And you're not. Right?" kidded Linda.

"Of course we both are," confessed Dorrissa.

"He's expecting you two. Why don't we go meet him? We can tour his center, break for lunch, and then tour my birthing lab," said Linda.

"Sounds good," said Kevin.

Linda led them through the winding corridor to Bruce's office. His senior assistant buzzed him of their presence and he bid them to come in. Bruce took Dorrissa's breath away at first glance. The same build, the same strong features, only the eye and hair color were different. Instead of brown hair and green eyes Bruce had blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Nice to meet you," said Bruce, with an amiable grin.

Amazing thought Dorrissa. He is so alike, even down to the smile.

"Where would you like to start?" he asked.

Bruce took the three of them on a complete tour of the center. On the way he pointed out some new innovations in the methods of child learning that he had implemented. For children under five the usual procedure in child rearing centers for half of the day, at intermittent periods, was to congregate kids in large groups and have them partake in interactive play. The other half saw children, babies and infants included, being strapped in seats and placed before learning screens that carried different programming depending upon the age of the child. No more than two teachmasters would be on hand for monitoring purposes. In almost every center teachmasters new to the task were utilized for this purpose.

Bruce however, made sure that one seasoned professional was always on hand thus maintaining a general calm and calculated discipline in the classroom. Many younger children in other centers had no structured day to day schedules or methods of preconceived learning other than what they received from learning screens. At Morningside, for two hours a day every morning, no less than four teachmasters would be present and a vigorous curriculum of events would take place. In the older classes much of the instruction at other centers relied on virtual reality lessons. Children would don their own headset and visions of their lessons would broadcast through their brains. Roving teachmasters, as they called them, would go from room to room doing random checks on the pupils.

This left more free time for teachmasters to socialize, attend seminars, professional development days, group functions, prepare lessons, grade students or any other excuse that could permit them to be anywhere else but inside the classroom. At Morningside, Bruce had made this teachmaster attitude strictly forbidden.

A teachmaster was required in class at all times. Since teachmasters were required to live in and on the compound property they were always keen to get away whenever possible. Bruce would suspend a teachmaster's leave indefinitely if caught away from their classroom. Only an emergency washroom break, in a true emergency, was permitted.

Also, in order to get more student feedback, reality headsets were only used two days a week maximum three hours a day. Teachmasters at Morningside were required to teach by talking, with students learning by listening. Although no student textbooks existed the teachmaster did have a teaching text. This was enlarged and viewed from a big screen on the wall for the benefit of all students. Bruce had seen some of these techniques first developed by his superiors at the Peterborough Center where he was formerly employed. He added his own creative touch to improve on them.

It was not just the child's mind that Bruce focused on. Every day after breakfast, everyone, teachmasters and children alike, had to perform thirty minutes of calisthenics. All forms of physical contact sports had previously been banned as the government believed they promoted violence amongst children. Bruce had initiated a new game called rag ball.

Using a basketball, children would run down the field passing it to members of their team with the purpose of crossing their opponent's line and scoring a goal. If the other team pulled a rag from a ball carriers pocket the play was stopped and the other team took possession of the ball. This was played a minimum of twice a week in all but thunder storm weather. The kids loved it and requested it daily.

To say Kevin was impressed would have been a colossal understatement. He couldn't wait to get back and implement some of the changes in curriculum that he had seen there today. Dorrissa was also impressed. Impressed and inspired. And over lunch she told Bruce. The four of them shared lunch on site in the rearing centers cafeteria. It was Kevin that first broached the subject that was to prove so invaluable to Dorrissa later on.

"Bruce," said Kevin, pausing to choose his words correctly. "You know how the government transfers students back and forth between rearing centers to keep them from becoming too familiar with their surroundings and also from forming too strong of a bond with their teachmasters?"

"And discourage close friendships with other students of their own age I might add," said Bruce.

"Correct. That being the case, the Wycliffe Center has never done an exchange with you here at Morningside because you are deemed to be in a different district. There is nothing to my knowledge that would prohibit such an exchange and I was wondering if perhaps we could devise one together," said Kevin.

"For the purpose of?" inquired Bruce.

"I'd really like to implement some of your ideas at Wycliffe. I thought that by having some of your kids familiar with their routine it might help to speed up the process."

"Do you know that the Peterborough Child Rearing Center for the past five years has produced the highest academic level of graduates in this part of the country? My personal goal as an administrator is to equal and surpass their achievement," said Bruce. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to steal any of your thunder. I was thinking of exchanges only with some of the younger kids to help out with the introduction of your programs and such. After six months, or a year say, we could switch back," said Kevin, making his point of view clear for everyone to see.

Dorrissa watched as Bruce seemingly brooded over the idea. Thinking of it as a possible way of getting to know him better, perhaps having him meet Jack some time in the future, she said, "You know Bruce. Kevin's idea might have some merit. At the end of the allotted time each group of children could be tested with the results documented and compared as to whether or not there were any differences in academic performance."

"Hmm," murmured Bruce. "It could have possibilities."

"Once a month or once every two months you could visit each other's rearing centers to monitor ongoing results," said Dorrissa.

"We would have to get Thatcher's blessing for such a radical change," said Bruce.

"I don't think it's too radical," said Dorrissa.

"Not at all. Leave it to me. I personally know the Minister of Creation and do not anticipate any problems whatsoever," said Kevin.

"Then I'll leave it with you Kevin and you can get back to me. Now if all of you would excuse me I must get back to work. It was nice meeting you Kevin. You too Dorrissa, and I look forward to seeing you again sometime," said Bruce.

The words 'my sentiments exactly' echoed repeatedly inside Dorrissa's brain.

With lunch now over, Dorrissa and Kevin toured the birthing lab. Dorrissa explained to Linda that the same high standards Bruce was after in his rearing center she wanted to obtain in her birthing lab. She did not mention the fact that she had gone to the cell repository herself and picked out samples nor did she say that she sent back many same sex tendency samples. Dorrissa didn't have to. It was Linda who brought it up.

"I've been noticing Dorrissa, that we've been receiving an overabundance of similar sex tendency cell samples disproportionate to our heterosexual ones. Is it just our birthing lab?" she asked.

"No Linda. The repository has been doing it to us too."

"It's not just me then," said Linda. "I was worried we had been singled out in some anti-heterosexual discriminatory conspiracy."

"No conspiracy," said Dorrissa. "I hope not anyway. It's just government preference. If you think about it Linda, the more homosexuals that are created the more similar sex tendency cell samples they will produce for repository storage. That's been happening for some time now and I think the increase could partly be attributed to that."

"That's too bad. I guess there is not much we can do about it is there?" said Linda. "We straight people will soon be outnumbered."

"I've been sending those cell samples back," said Dorrissa, emitting a hint of unbridled arrogance.

"You haven't!" exclaimed Linda. She was genuinely shocked.

"Oh, but I have. If I receive a repository shipment that I consider to be substandard I send part of it back. I now look at the files personally and check for everything from intelligence to probable future job placement. Not just similar sex tendency files mind you, I check all donor files. Anything higher than a fifteen per cent average in undesirable characteristics and they go back."

"You mean I myself could send samples back?" asked Linda.

"Of course you can. As we say in the trade, it's your baby," laughed Dorrissa. "Shh, here comes Kevin. Let's keep this conversation to ourselves. The inner workings of a birthing lab are of no significance to outsiders. The less anyone else knows, the less they can interfere."

"I'm with you," said Linda.

"Well if we're going to get back by a half decent time we should be leaving," said Kevin.

Just then Linda's senior assistant Bernice came running into the lab. "Have you heard the news?" she said. "The Prime Minister is retiring effective today!"

"Prime Minister Trandlore?" asked Kevin, his face a portrait of surprise.

"No. Prime Minister Laurence," said Dorrissa, smiling.

Chapter 9

Prime Minister Trandlore took to the podium at precisely two p.m. Gathered in front of him were a collection of the country's media representatives.

"I have called you here this afternoon to make a formal announcement. As of today the Right Honorable Mr. Steven Laurence, our External Prime Minister, will no longer be a part of this government. At ten o'clock this morning he submitted his resignation to me effective immediately, which I reluctantly accepted."

"Why Mr. Prime Minister?" shouted a voice.

"Why did he resign?" yelled someone else.

"Was he forced out?" continued yet another.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Ladies and Gentlemen please," shouted Mr. Trandlore holding up his arms. "You haven't let me finish. This is a resignation without malice of any sort. Mr. Laurence merely wishes to resume his private life; to retire and live out the rest of his years in a relaxed and carefree manner. Steven has devoted his whole life to public service, always with the best intentions for our country and our people in mind. His has been a never ending and always vigilant voice for our nation. And for that, we as a country owe him our deepest debt of gratitude. With no further ado, may I present to you, Mr. Steven Laurence."

As Steven walked to the podium everyone rose from their seats to give him a standing, thunderous ovation. Prime Minister Trandlore always knew Steven was the more popular of the two and he resented him for it. Standing and shaking his hand, Ray congratulated Steven for all his past endeavors on behalf of the country and himself. He said it had been a pleasure working with him, that he would be sorely missed and wished him continued health and happiness into the future.

"Mr. Prime Minister...err...Mr. Laurence. What are your plans for the future?" asked a well dressed woman in the front row.

"For the immediate future my partner and I plan to take an extended holiday someplace warm. Maybe go on a cruise. When we get back there is a rented cottage up north that we have a hankering to settle down in. Personally I hope to catch up on my reading. But mainly just relax."

"Who will be the new External Prime Minister," hollered a fat man from the rear.

"I have no idea. You will have to take that up with Prime Minister Trandlore. Next question."

"Is it true you're leaving because you never got the chance to become the Internal Prime Minister?"

"Preposterous hogwash. You need to find yourself a more reliable source of information," said Steven.

"Will you be leaving politics for good Mr. Laurence?"

"That's the plan."

After a few more questions Steven thanked them all for coming, said it had been a great honor serving them and bid his farewell. It was finally over. Alone in the next room Steven extended his hand in friendship to Ray. It was just the kind of guy he was.

"So long Ray. It's been a slice. A hell of a ride."

"So long Steve. Take care. You never know. I just might......," Ray hesitated, "pop in on you one day." He laughed accordingly.

"Beep me first. We might not be decent," chuckled Steven.

That evening Jack and Dorrissa received a phone call from Steven.

"So you did it after all," said Jack.

"Of course, I said I would. Still, it seems strange though. But in a good way. A relief really," said Steven.

"You said that you were thinking of taking a cruise?"

"It's something that we've always talked about, Ruth and I. I'm going to check into it further tomorrow. I'll let you know if it pans out," said Steven, before saying goodnight.

Dorrissa and Ruth chatted for awhile after the men finished talking. Jack, feeling tired, had turned in for the night.

The next day at work, after meeting Bruce the day before, Dorrissa wondered what the other Crehus were like. The ones she had procured samples for. There was Philip and Rodney, first generation Crehus created from Charles Jacobtown's cell samples. Alex and Matthew from Dr. Foxing's samples and Jason and Sophia from Susan's samples.

Philip lived in Regina while Rodney resided in St. John's. Alex lived in Belleville and Matthew in Brantford. Jason had resided in London but he was shown to be presently in transit. Sophia however, lived just outside of Peterborough. In fact, she was a teachmaster at the Peterborough Child Rearing Center. What a coincidence thought Dorrissa. She made note of their addresses and phone numbers for future reference and locked them away in her desk.

Steven called on Thursday evening. Jack was out of town in Victoria on assignment. Steven told Dorrissa they were leaving for Australia for a two month stay. They had decided to forgo a cruise until another time and would be leaving Friday morning. Dorrissa said she would miss them and wished them well. After talking with Ruth a bit longer, she bid farewell.

Sitting back in her chair, feeling somewhat lonely, Dorrissa's mind gradually started thinking about Becka and the conversation that took place between them the day before. Becka had called to say her host family was moving and she had to find a new place to stay.

"Why not come and live with us?" said Dorrissa. "It's only a matter of time before the government sends us a new boarder anyway."

"Do you mean it?" Becka asked excitedly. "What would Jack say?"

"He wouldn't mind in the slightest. He'd be as thrilled as me to have you with us," said Dorrissa.

"Oh, we'll have so much fun together," said Becka, overjoyed at the prospect.

"It will have to be approved by the Minister of Migration and Habitation but that should not be a problem. I'll check it out," said Dorrissa.

Jack called to say Hi, both on Wednesday and Thursday evening. Thursday night's call was just before Steven's but Dorrissa never mentioned the possibility of Becka moving in with them. It was something she would leave unsaid until she could talk to him in person. He was due back Friday evening.

It was mid Friday morning when Mr. Billarts received a call in his office.

"Mr. Billarts Sir," said his secretary. "You have a call on line two from Sloan 2168AT36."

"All right Stella. You can put him through." What does he want now he wondered?

"Hello Sir. It's me, Sloan."

"Yes Sloan. What is it? No, don't tell me. I think I've got it figured out. One week on the job and you're ready to head the review board right?"

Sloan laughed. "How did you guess? No, actually I've come up with another idea."

"Let's hear it then." Mr. Billarts sighed.

"I've sat in at five hearings this week and in every case the teachmasters have either been returned to their jobs or transferred to a new child rearing center with no change in rank. They were only put on probation."

"That's correct," said Mr. Billarts. "If a teachmaster was to receive a rank change, which in fact does happen in extreme cases, they are removed from their teaching position and given a rudimentary, menial job elsewhere. But this is not my portfolio. Don't forget, I'm the Minister of National Defense. You need to be talking to Thatcher, Minister of Creation and Education."

"You liked my last idea. But if you don't want to hear it I'll......"

"No. You're right," interrupted Mr. Billarts. "Go ahead, I'm listening."

"You know when a Crehu reaches an A level and in order to signify a higher rank they receive a plus sign or signs. Such is the case of cabinet ministers like the Honorable Minister Thatcher whom you just mentioned, who is an A triple plus."

"Yes," replied Mr. Billarts.

"What if the government brought in a negative ranking system? As it stands right now when a teachmaster is put on probation not everyone knows. If he or she were given a negative rank or a double negative for two indiscretions everyone would know. It would be on their identity card. People would shun them for fear of their own rank being jeopardized. It's like they would be guilty by association."

"So you're suggesting giving teachmasters negative ratings?"

"No. I'm suggesting giving everyone on probation negative ratings. Only after their probationary period ends, with no further incidents, would their rank be reinstated."

"How original," said Mr. Billarts.

"There would be no third negative allowed though. It would be pretty much like baseball," said Sloan.

"Three strikes and you're out?"

"Precisely," replied Sloan.

"Interesting concept. People with negative rank identity cards would be stigmatized or ostracized by the general public," offered Mr. Billarts.

"Negative rankings would give people more than just a subconscious incentive to reform their ways," said Sloan. "They should also be penalized financially with a downgraded paycheck."

"I like it. It's a great idea. I'm glad you called me with it my boy. I thank you."

"You're welcome Sir."

"You shall hear back from me after I have spoken with the Prime Minister. Have yourself a great weekend."

"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir. You too Sir," said Sloan.

Quite full of himself, Sloan was a literal pain in the ass to his co-workers for the rest of the day. That evening he and Trent went out to celebrate the first week's completion of his new job.

"So what do you think of my increased rank?" asked Sloan, ostentatiously fingering his new identity card. "Mr. Billarts said this rank was unprecedented in Crehus of my age group. Not even a full year in the workforce, not bad eh?"

"If all you are going to do tonight is brag about your higher rank and the fact you now make more money than me you can kiss my ass. I'm not going to sit around here and listen to you rub my nose in it."

"Sorry Trent. I didn't mean it. I wouldn't mind kissing your ass later though," Sloan added laughing.

"That's a sexist remark if I ever heard one," snickered Trent.

"How's the doctoring going?"

"Dr. Hampstead says I'm coming along splendidly."

After dinner and more drinks the two of them left for a neighborhood bar. A little later, with a few too many pitchers of beer under their belts and not having much of a tolerance for alcohol, Sloan started banging his hand on the table to get his companion's attention. Using body language, Trent had been checking out the table directly across from them where three gorgeous young male studs were sitting. One of them had been eyeing him since he sat down.

"Hey," yelled Sloan, in a pissed off tone. "Member me? I'ma fuckin' guy you cum with."

"Sorry. It's nothing," replied Trent. He didn't realize Sloan had been watching him. "I was just horsing around."

Sloan, starting to slur his words more frequently, said, "You jus' wash me. I'm goin' right ta da top. I tol' Billarts 'bouta new idea t'day. He taught it twas fuckin' fabulous."

Sloan muttered along trying to tell Trent about his new idea. It took him three times longer than it would have normally. His stupefied demeanor was becoming an embarrassment to Trent since Sloan's loud and rude mannerisms were beginning to draw attention to their table.

"Ya betta stick wit me buddy erelse ya gonna git screwed," said Sloan with a swipe of his hand knocking over a full glass of beer right into Trent's lap.

"You son of a bitch," yelled Trent standing up. "It looks like I've pissed myself. You're not only a braggart but what's worse, you're a drunken braggart. I'm splitting. Don't bother to follow."

"Awn sorry. Twas a accident," said a bleary-eyed Sloan.

It was too late. Trent was gone. Sloan was not too drunk to notice that Mr. Stud, the odd man out at the next table who had been giving Trent the eye, had gotten up and followed Trent outside. As he was leaving, Sloan stared long and hard at the man's face through his own inebriated fog. It was a face he'd be sure not to forget.

Sloan made his way from the table, staggering out the door. Of course Trent was nowhere to be seen. Not far from his own building space he headed for home. With only a short way to go Sloan stumbled and tripped, hitting his head on a metal signpost and opening a gash on the brow above his left eye.

Blood was streaming down his face, congealing on his neck and shirt collar. He made his way into his building and leaned with his back to the wall by the elevator. Slowly, he slid down the wall coming to rest in a sitting position. That is where Sharon found him three hours later. It was six-thirty a.m. and she was just getting home from work. A nurse at Blake Central Hospital, she was working nights.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, bending over and squeezing Sloan's shoulder and giving it a gentle shake.

Sloan opened his eyes to a beautiful buxom blonde. "Am I at the hospital?" he asked, seeing her in uniform.

"No. But you should have been. You've got a nasty gash to your forehead. Are you able to stand?" Sharon asked him.

"Ya I think so," said Sloan, pushing off from the floor.

Sharon helped him up. Once on his feet and still feeling a bit woozy he fell into her arms.

"Hey. You're heavy. Easy does it," she said.

"You smell like a hospital," said Sloan.

"That's preferable to what you smell like, I assure you," said Sharon.

"I've got to get home," said Sloan.

"You're the new guy that moved in onto the tenth floor not too long ago aren't you?"

Now, slightly more agile on his feet Sloan answered, "How did you know that?"

"Oh, I've seen you around," smiled Sharon.

What a beautiful smile she has, thought Sloan; who was obviously still a bit tipsy from the night before, if he thought that, he thought.

"Here. Let me help you to your space," said Sharon pressing the elevator button.

Once there Sloan removed his identity card and inserted it into the slot. The green light went out and the door opened.

"Thanks for all your help."

"Do you have any bandages?" asked Sharon. "I should take a look at that."

"In the medicine cabinet," Sloan answered.

Once inside Sharon closed the door.

"Washroom's over here," said Sloan.

"I know. My space is on the seventh floor and they are all identical. Take off your shirt," she ordered.

"What?" Sloan protested.

"Relax silly...I'm a nurse. You need to get cleaned up."

Taking a towel and soaking it with warm water Sharon wrung it out as Sloan removed his shirt. Slowly she wiped the dried blood from his face and neck.

"That's bad. You should have gone to the hospital for stitches. It's too late now. I'm afraid you will be left with a nice big scar as a memento. Do you have any iodine?"

"There, in the cupboard."

Sloan flinched when she put it on. "Ouch!" he cried.

"Oh, shush. Don't be such a big sissy. This has to be taken care of. We mustn't take a chance on it getting infected."

"So, your name's Sharon?"

"Yes. And I see yours is Sloan."

"Ya, without an e."

"Well we're both S's," said Sharon.

"Ya, S&S. I guess that's better than S&M," Sloan laughed.

Sharon followed along.

"So what do you do for a living?" she asked.

"I sit on the Teachmasters Review Board. Say. Can I fix you a cup of coffee or something in a show of appreciation for what you've done?"

"Yes that would be nice," Sharon replied.

For the next two hours they sat and talked. Both managed to learn a lot about the other. Sharon was definitely attracted to him sexually he could tell. Why was he feeling similar he wondered? It was all so very confusing for him. Finally Sharon said, "Well, it's getting late. I really should be getting home and hitting the hay. Don't get that cut wet now for at least three days."

"I really want to thank you for fixing me up," said Sloan, moving closer to her. She was beginning to smell less like a hospital and more like a woman.

"I was more than happy to help. I'm a nurse and can't actually ignore injuries you know. I guess I'll see you around sometime," she said

"Wait. Don't go yet," said Sloan, grabbing her hand, all the while feeling the growing erection in his pants.

Pulling her closer to his naked chest Sloan placed her in a bear hug and kissed her lips. Trying at first to break away, Sharon eventually succumbed to his advances. After a few minutes of passionate kissing he whispered in her ear, "You don't have to go home. I have a bed right here that's big enough for both of us."

Trent looked at his watch. It was almost two in the afternoon. He took out his identity card and placed it in the slot. The green light was already out. Sloan had previously programmed Trent's card for access to his space.

"Hey I'm sorry about last night. I guess we were both a little drunk," said Trent as he passed through the threshold. "Hey Sloan you're going to sleep your life away." Trent laughed as he crossed the room.

"What?" said Sloan groggily as he turned over on his side and propped himself up onto one elbow.

An unfamiliar pair of eyes peeked out from under the bed sheet beside him.

"Who is that?" uttered a distinctly feminine voice.

Trent stood overpoweringly paralyzed by the eclipsed shock of what he was seeing.

"Trent?" said Sloan still half asleep.

"I don't believe it! I fucking don't believe it! You're sleeping with a bitch?" said Trent, eyes wide, filled with revulsion.

"Wait. I can explain," said Sloan unnerved.

"Screw you and the whore you came in with," shouted Trent, storming out of the space as Sharon sat up in bed startled, clutching the sheets to her bosom.

"Who was that," she asked, wary of the answer.

"A friend. Just a friend I was supposed to meet for lunch," Sloan lied. He looked at his watch.

"He seems more than a friend," replied Sharon, envisioning a moral turpitude. "I recognize him from the hospital. He hangs out with the gay crowd. Is he your lover?" Sharon asked point blank.

Sloan looked at her with a sneer of disgust.

"Are you bi-sexual? By Government I don't believe it," Sharon cried out.

"Believe what you want. It's no concern to me. I'm going to take a shower. You'd better get dressed and leave," said Sloan, with his back turned to her as he walked to the washroom and closed the door.

Stepping into the shower he turned on the water. Were those tears running down his cheeks or was it just the water cascading down upon him?

Fuck her he thought. Fuck Jack and Dorrissa and Becka and her friends. Fuck them all.

That weekend Dorrissa confronted Jack with the news of Becka's imminent departure from her host home and the offer she had made to her. At first Jack was leery and rightly so. He also harbored feelings, deep down within, for Becka albeit of a completely different nature. She was an alluring woman indeed and Jack had reason to be concerned in the sharing of their home with her.

He tried to tell Dorrissa that living and working with Becka may prove formidable in their workplace atmosphere. Tensions could result by the closeness of their proximity. Dorrissa pooh-poohed his anxiety as nothing more than an imagined foolishness. Trivial nonsense she had concluded.

Jack, realizing the importance to Dorrissa of having Becka with them and the close bond that the two of them had developed while he was often on the road, finally relented. Dorrissa would be much happier having Becka around than she would be if she were alone. He would deal with the demons inside him and make sure that Becka dealt with hers also. It would therefore be left up to Jeff, the Minister involved, for the final thumbs up. Or thumbs down whatever the case may be. Dorrissa was indeed right about one thing. It would be far better having Becka live with them than it would be to take a chance on getting another Sloan. After all, the government did require them to be a host home.

It was Wednesday when Prime Minister Trandlore announced the news. The government would be proceeding with an idea he had devised in regard to the ranking of the country's citizens. People now put on probation, for whatever reason, would receive a negative rank in society. It would become law immediately. Upon hearing this news Sloan became incensed and called Mr. Billarts.

"What the Hell?" Sloan cried into phone. "That's the second time an idea I've had has been stolen."

"On the contrary my young man you should feel pride rather than outrage," said Mr. Billarts. "When an idea is so good that even I cannot claim it for myself, but it traverses to the highest reaches it can climb, shows the merit of its potential. The Prime Minister, I assure you, knows from whence it came. You shall be duly rewarded my fine friend. In fact the Prime Minister asked me to ask you, how your new job was going?"

"Okay I guess. Other than I can't stand the chairman of the review board. His name is Cory and he's a prick. It would be a lot nicer if he was gone. How about giving me his job?"

"My, my, what a wicked, wicked boy you are," laughed Mr. Billarts. I must say I admire your spunk. I shall speak with the Prime Minister on your behalf pertaining to your request. Have a nice day," said Mr. Billarts.

Sloan smiled to himself openly.

The next morning when he arrived for work Cory was nowhere to be seen. Instead Thatcher, the Minister for Creation and Education, was there to greet him.

"Attention everyone. I'm here to inform you that Cory 132A+10 has been transferred to a different department and will no longer be chairman of this review board. In his place I am promoting Anson 1129A14. Anson has served as vice-chairman for more than three years and this ministry has complete confidence in his capabilities. He has more than earned the plus symbol that shall be added to his A rating along with his new title. Please step forward Anson. I shall now formally present you with your new identity card. The Peoples Government trusts we can count on you to rise to the occasion."

"Yes Sir," replied Anson.

"I ask you all to give Anson your complete co-operation in the performance of his additional duties. In the newly opened vacancy of vice-chairman I am appointing Sloan 2168AT36.

A hush went up in the room.

"Sloan, front and center please."

Upon stepping forward Sloan's eyes almost bugged out of his head. Here was a Government Minister about to hand him yet another new identity card, the second in as many weeks.

"Congratulations Sloan. I know you will do us all proud," said Thatcher. He handed him a card with a full A rating. Leaning over to whisper in Sloan's ear Thatcher said, "John wanted me to tell you that you can't expect to take control of the whole department after only a week on the job."

Pulling back Thatcher smiled and shook Sloan's hand. Sloan smiled back. Yea, but I came pretty damn close, thought Sloan.

Before the week had ended, Becka had heard back from the Department of Migration and Habitation. She would be allowed to move in with Jack and Dorrissa. Jack was out of town again, this time in Woodstock. Becka phoned Dorrissa with the good news. It was decided she would move in this coming weekend.

Kevin, the superintendent of the Wycliffe Child Rearing Center had also received some great news that week. The Department of Creation and Education had said it would be okay to exchange students with the Morningside Center. He had phoned Bruce to inform him. Bruce made tentative plans with Kevin to come down and tour the Wycliffe Center sometime within the next month.

"By golly don't tell me you've moved in already," said Jack, as he arrived home late Friday night to find Becka stretched out in his chair in the front room.

"I helped her with her things after work," said Dorrissa.

"I feel so at home here it's unreal," Becka said happily.

"I would too if I could get my seat back."

Becka looked up a might flushed.

"I think you're encroaching on my space," Jack added with a smile.

"I'm sorry." said Becka. She quickly jumped up and moved to the couch.

"Jack!" yelled Dorrissa lashing out at him. "That was a very rude and impetuous remark."

"Don't be cross with me Honey. I was only kidding. Didn't you see me smiling when I said it," explained Jack, feeling a bit chagrined as he sat in his favorite chair. "All this traveling is just becoming so...so...Vapidly monotonous. Having itchy feet should be a prerequisite for this job and mine are far from that."

"Yes. It is a tedious and formidable position Jack. How I wish you never got that job," stated Dorrissa.

"Enough about work," said Jack. "What's the chance of conjuring me up some grub? I feel an averring need for some sustenance before I corporeally fade away."

"Ha, fat chance," mocked Dorrissa. "Your waistline exemplifies that improbability."

"Hey, what d'ya mean?" said Jack, sucking in his gut.

"I'm staying out of this," laughed Becka.

Joining in her laughter, Dorrissa rose and said teasingly, "I'm sure I can rustle up something to oblige your palate."

"Hey Jack," said Becka. "Did you hear about Sloan's big promotion?"

"What big promotion?"

"We just got wind of it today."

"Did it come with a foul odor?"

"Hey, that's funny. No seriously, he's been promoted to Vice-Chairman of the Teachmasters Review Board. Go figure?"

"That's beyond my comprehension," said Jack, partially stunned by the news.

"We heard he was given an A rating also."

"Unbelievable. Inscrutably uncanny. Whose ass did he....err....He's been there at the review board for what? Two weeks? Less that that? It's Billarts. It's got to be. Billarts arranged for him to get that job. What a crafty finagler Sloan has turned out to be. I'm sure glad I'm not a teachmaster. I pity them for sure."

"You hate Sloan don't you?" asked Becka.

"Hate? That's a strong word. Mistrust yes. Dislike would be better. Don't you ever underestimate him Becka. He's a very devious and dangerous person. I shudder just thinking about it."

Dorrissa rounded the corner and entered the room with some dinner for her man. "Here's your sustenance," she jokingly said. "Enjoy!"

Dorrissa sat back down and joined in the conversation. "They say the old super jail building is nearing completion. It should be ready in a few weeks. Just think, no more traveling," Dorrissa gushed.

"I'll believe it when I see it," said Jack.

"Did you hear about the Prime Minister's negative ranking system?" asked Becka.

"I watched it on the media screen in Woodstock," said Jack.

"What do you think of it?

"You mean personally? I think this government is clamping down on people more and more. When I was in the United States with Steve and Ruth, it was so...Refreshing. The environment surrounding people there is much more positive. It's people friendly. But that's like comparing our apples to their oranges I guess. We have to work with what we have."

"How true," agreed Dorrissa.

"Did Steve and Ruth get off okay?" asked Jack.

"I'm sure they did. I told you they decided to go to Australia. They're going to send us a postcard from 'Down Under' as Ruth called it," Dorrissa laughed.

"It sounds like they'll have a great time. I wish we were with them instead of 'Up Over'. They were indescribably fun to be with in Florida."

"I can imagine. It will be nice to have them back home again. Unfortunately that won't be until the end of March or near about," said Dorrissa.

"That was really good," said Jack upon finishing his meal. "Thanks."

"You're welcome my Lord," said Dorrissa with a glint in her eye.

"Well it's been a long, exhausting and arduous day. If you ladies will excuse me I think I'll hit the sack," said Jack, standing up.

"Come to think about it," said Dorrissa, with a pretend yawn as an accompaniment.

"Oh go ahead you two. I'll turn out the lights before I go to bed," said Becka, underplaying the moment. "Don't wake me I'm sleeping in tomorrow," she added.

"For shame," said Dorrissa with feigned haughtiness.

"Naughty, naughty. Don't you know it's the early bird that gets the worm?" chided Jack.

"Tell you what. You fight him for it. I'll settle for a bowl of cereal and a cup of java at a more respectable hour. Goodnight you two."

"Goodnight Becka," they answered.

On February 14th.National Heart and Wellness Day, Prime Minister Trandlore organized a media scrum for the opening of the new Family Survival Group Containment Center in Penetanguishene. He arrived by chauffeured government limousine followed by a cavalcade of automobiles carrying his entire cabinet, including all junior assistant cabinet ministers.

The spectacle, complete with an extravagant luncheon, was due to take place precisely at noon. All Survival Group members had been transferred from their respective holding centers in various parts of the country prior to the staging of this monumental event. A one time only national holiday had been declared so that people could watch the grand elaborate ceremony take place on their media screen. Jack was at the presentation by necessity rather than by choice. Dorrissa had declined to accompany him for obvious reasons.

Ministers and media were given a guarded tour throughout the compound. There was no need for a camera crew. Permanent cameras had been mounted in every nook and cranny. The prisoners were contained in barred cells which presented to them a festering squalor unknown and unimagined by the ordinary everyday citizen.

They were tiny cramped spaces holding four to a room with walls painted a drab melancholy grey. Cells windows had been replaced by brick and mortar leaving only a tiny slot for fresh air and sunlight. On any given particularly cloudy day the prisoners would be enveloped in darkness if not for the interior lighting. Unbeknownst to these poor wretched creatures the guards who controlled the lighting were under orders to keep them only as bright as the media screen cameras necessitated. Each cell contained four hard steel sleeping platforms, one steel sink and one steel toilet.

Each prisoner received one thin mat, two scratchy blankets and one lumpy pillow. Prison wear included two pairs of underwear and socks, one denim jumpsuit and one pair of sneakers. No books, radios, computers, media screens, or anything else for that matter were made available to the prisoners. These people had broken the law and they would be left to wallow in their own pessimistic, comfortless, despair.

The Prime Minister announced to all who were watching, particularly non-apprehended Family Survival Group Members, that there was more than enough room for them here if they foolishly continued to seek it. He reminded everyone that there was now a Family Survival Group Channel twenty-four hours a day for their viewing horror per se. After all, this was the master plan envisioned by the government. A channel dedicated completely for human suffering. So intense in its repugnance that the average viewer would try and refrain from watching, yet, because of human nature, be drawn back to it again and again. So morbid in its hopelessness that it would make a person think twice before Survival Group involvement lest they become a new star on its channel. Only a sadist would deem it required viewing.

The prisoners yelled out in cries and screams and pleaded for mercy as the passing dignitaries strolled by.

"It's only their first day!" exclaimed Mr. Billarts, leaning over in delight to whisper in the ear of Prime Minister Trandlore.

"I know. Isn't it great? It was a tremendous idea. I compliment you thoroughly," he replied.

Leaving the procession to step outside for a breath of fresh air, Jack couldn't help but notice Sloan laughing and joking with a group of onlookers. Walking over to confront Jack since he had seen him watching, Sloan said, "Jack my man. How's it going? Having a good time?"

Jack could feel a repressed loathing rising inside of him. "I heard you got a new job," he said sternly.

"Yea, how about that? How do you like my new identity card?" bragged Sloan, tapping his finger against the letter A.

"Well it looks like I'm still one up on you sonny," said Jack. He smiled back while tapping his finger on his A+.

Sloan, squinting daggers, sneered and said, "You might be in store for a little surprise today Jack."

"What are you doing here anyway? Isn't this a little out of your league?" asked Jack, refusing to be intimidated.

"This whole camera thing and brand new media channel was my idea," emphasized Sloan.

"Bullshit."

"So you don't believe me eh? I could care less," he lied.

"It was your idea? Really?"

"Damn right it was. But you should take some of the credit Jack. I came up with it while watching you on the media screen. Now doesn't that just bust your bubble? Everyone watching us here today is enjoying this nice fine facility courtesy of none other than you. And me."

"You Bastard. You self-righteous prick. Have you seen those people in there? Their desperate, forlorn faces? Have you even heard their despondent pleas?"

"Gee Jack. Cry me a river I'll build you a boat. No. I haven't seen them. Better still. I hate to be one who procrastinates. Why don't you come show me?" Sloan said placing his hand on Jack's shoulder.

Pushing it off Jack said, "You're an asshole Sloan. Screw you!"

"Why Jack. Are you propositioning me?"

Then, very serious, Sloan steps in front of Jack...Close....Face to face....and says, "You're not my type, Jackoff. And if you don't stop your insulting vulgarity towards me I'll do my damnedest to make your life a complete misery. Those people in there Jack," said Sloan, pointing to the prison, "their life will be one of preferred leisure compared to yours. You'll be clamoring to get in."

Right in the nick of time, with Jack a breath away from clenching a fist and using it purposely, the Prime Minister emerged with his entourage and assorted hangers-on.

"Fellow citizens gather round," Mr. Trandlore called out. "It is time for me to reveal to you the other reason we are gathered here today. This is just not a fortuitous event that you find yourselves partaking in. After long deliberation and painstaking consultation I have decided to pass on the mantle of leadership. With the departure of the External Prime Minister, Steven Laurence whom I'm sure you all greatly admired, I began to give credence to the possibility of it being the end of an era.

"With the opening of this new containment center and a clear vision ahead I see no further reason for me to stay on as your leader. It has come time for me to step aside. To stop and smell the roses as you might say. I have enjoyed being your Prime Minister immensely but I believe I leave you now in good hands.

"The person I have chosen to carry on as your new Prime Minister has my complete and utmost confidence. I would ask of you, Canadians all, to give him your unequivocal and most sincere support. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the new Internal Prime Minister of the Peoples Government of Canada, the Honorable Mr. Jonathan Billarts.

The crowd started to clap approvingly.

"Son of a bitch!" exclaimed Sloan.

"You didn't know about this?" asked Jack, highly suspicious.

"Not this part," replied Sloan, in complete surprise.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I thank the former Prime Minister for the confidence he places in me and I assure him, and you all, that I shall not disappoint that trust. I would like to thank the Honorable Mr. Trandlore on behalf of our whole nation for the diligent, persistent work he has done and the significant accomplishments that he has garnered while in office. Will you please join me in a much appreciated heart-to-heart, on this day in particular, round of applause for Mr. Q. Raymond Trandlore, an awesome Prime Minister indeed!"

After more clapping and a long-winded, loquacious speech, the mixture of media workers and politicians swarmed around a large buffet to gorge their bodies. Especially since many in the audience felt they needed to counter balance the gorging of their brains that had just taken place.

That was the most garrulous piece of pomposity I have ever witnessed thought Jack, careful not to say it out loud as he walked away from Sloan.

"Bye Jack. It's been fun," said Sloan. "Don't be a little piggy now," he added in a sarcastic, disputatious manner.

Before too long Jack found himself being confronted by Mr. Billarts.

"Prime Minister, congratulations on your new appointment," said Jack, taken by surprise.

"And I trust you mean that wholeheartedly," replied Mr. Billarts.

"Well. It is National Heart and Wellness Day," declared Jack.

The new Prime Minister was definitely unmoved by his witty reply. "I want to let you know that your position of government media spokesperson in relation to Family Survival Groups is no longer necessary. This new containment center we have now has made your position redundant. I hope you understand."

"That's okay. I was getting tired of being a screen celebrity anyway," said Jack.

"Are you being impertinent with me?" questioned Mr. Billarts.

"No Sir. Only an impetuous fool of inane and insane mind would do such a thing," replied Jack. Hard to rein in his wise guy attitude once it reared its head, he was not sure where this conversation was leading.

Then with his mouth moving faster than his brain, unable to stop himself with another of his exasperations, Jack made his momentous blunder of the day. His sheer arrogance had blinded him. Just as Mr. Billarts was turning away to leave Jack said, "Sloan told me that the cameras and dedicated media screen channel was his idea. I guess that's why he was given the Vice-Chairmanship of the Teachmasters Review Board."

Mr. Billarts stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around in defiant propensity.

"That was my idea," he bellowed. "Sloan received his new position on his own merit. Don't even begin to try and decipher the events which precipitated it. By the way Jack. Since you are no longer needed here and going back to your old job you can expect to receive your previous salary level," glared the new Prime Minister.

And with this forthright startling announcement having been said, Mr. Billarts turned on his heels and left Jack standing in a veritable quandary. How was he to get by on his old salary, especially now that he had purchased the lot in Florida? He dreaded the thought of breaking the news to Dorrissa. He looked over in his present state of mortification to see Mr. Billarts approach Sloan who was talking with a group of media representatives. With a wave of the Prime Minister's hand, Jack watched as he and Sloan scurried away. By his body language and flailing use of his arms Jack could see that Mr. Billarts was administering a rigorous and disparaging reprimand to Sloan.

"Jack. How are you?"

Jack turned around to see Mr. Trandlore munching on a carrot stick.

"Have you been admiring our handiwork here today?"

Realizing the less said the better, Jack changed the subject. "I was just talking with the new Prime Minister. He informed me that with this new compound in place, cameras, media station and all, my former position as government media spokesperson was no longer required. He also said my salary would be returned to its previous level."

"That's odd. In my conversation with John I was aware that your position would be terminated but he said nothing to indicate that he would be reinstating your former salary level. Did you say anything that might have offended him in any way?"

"Sloan had told me previously that the idea of the cameras and dedicated media channel was his. I guess I sort of mentioned it."

"It was Sloan's idea eh? That's interesting. Well Jack. You've really gone and put your foot in your mouth this time haven't you? My, my, hopefully you've learned a lesson from this little scenario. Use it wisely. Now that I've ended my mandate I think you will find there will be a certain segment of society that will remember me as a bastion of benevolence in comparison to John."

"May I ask you a personal question Sir?" asked Jack.

"Depends how personal," Mr. Trandlore shot back.

"Why did you pick Mr. Billarts to succeed you?"

"As opposed to who? This government has an agenda and John Billarts is the only one I trust to carry it out. You may not like him, damn I don't even like him, but he is the only one available that can get the job done."

"You didn't pick a new External Prime Minister?" questioned Jack.

"I'll leave that to John. He's the one who has to work with him. I only wish that my predecessor had given me the same opportunity."

"You wouldn't have chosen Mr. Laurence?"

"You're on a real fishing expedition aren't you Jack? Never mind that. I know you and your partner have become close to Steve and Ruth. I talked to Steve in Australia and told him of my decision to retire. He called me a bastard," laughed Mr. Trandlore, "for waiting for him to go first. For not giving him the chance to be Internal Prime Minister. Don't get me wrong Jack. I like Steven. The problem is...He's nice. Too nice. Soft. He doesn't have the balls for this job. For the tough decisions that need to be made. We were at loggerheads many times, he and I, over policy issues. It's all water under the bridge now. He knows it wasn't personal. I've got to be going now Jack. Good luck with your future endeavors."

"And you also Sir."

Jack watched as Mr. Trandlore walked over to say his goodbyes to the others who were in attendance. It was time for him to say goodbye too as he walked to his car. There was one bright side, one cloud with a silver lining he thought, as he climbed into his vehicle. There would be no more traveling. Life would return to normal. Although his monetary and financial circumstances would follow suit, that didn't seem to matter anymore. It was like spilled milk. After all it was only money. Things could be worse. He would now remain focused on the big picture. Jack smiled to himself as he drove off to a new beginning.

A few days later Mr. Smithington called Jack into his office. Mr. Berry Gadwinner, the new Justice Minister, was also there. Mr. Billarts had made a cabinet shuffle one of his first priorities after being officially sworn in. Mr. Jamling, formerly the Justice Minister, had been switched to Minister of Health, Welfare and Employment. Many believed that to be a demotion and privately Mr. Jamling tended to agree with them. Prime Minister Billarts had told Mr. Jamling that he needed to have diversified experience in cabinet. Mr. Parker Wiltcoxen, the former minister of that portfolio, was moved to Fisheries and Natural Resources, Mr. Gadwinner's previous position. Mr. Peter Robbuster was the new External Prime Minister. Mr. Wayne Turnmore was brought in from Tax and Revenue to take his place in Transportation (another downgrading). A new man, Carter 162A+++4, was initiated into cabinet as the Minister for Tax and Revenue.

The Prime Minister made it quite clear, especially to the ministers he didn't actually see eye to eye with, that they were all very fortunate to have retained a position in his cabinet. Mr. Billarts also decided that as well as being the Internal Prime Minister, he would retain the duties and position of National Defense. No one in his opinion was qualified for that job at the present time. Any seemingly rebellious attitudes to his views on governing (anyone not towing the line) would be dealt with immediately (harshly).

"Jack," said Mr. Smithington, "the Justice Minister wishes to have a few words with you."

"Yes Sir," Jack answered wondering what it was he had done now.

"This is for you," said Mr. Gadwinner. He reached out trying, not too hard, to suppress a leering, lopsided grin.

Jack took it from his outstretched arm. It was a new identity card. He looked at it. No. It wasn't new after all. It was his old card, the one without the plus sign.

"I'd like the other one back if you please. Since you have been returned to your former position and former salary it's only logical that you be returned to your former rank. Don't you agree?" asked Mr. Gadwinner.

"Seems logical," said Jack coldly.

"You're actually quite lucky. I handed out two negative rank cards earlier this morning," he said, smiling perversely.

Jack said nothing.

"Any questions?" Mr. Gadwinner asked.

"No Sir."

"Very well, you're excused."

"Thank you Sir," said Jack, being very careful to remember Mr. Trandlore's warning.

"Oh don't thank me Jack," replied Mr. Gadwinner, flashing a sinister smirk. "It was my pleasure I assure you."

Jack looked over to where Mr. Smithington was seated. He averted Jack's stare and looked down at the ground.

"Goodbye Mr. Smithington," said Jack.

"Good day Jack," he replied, all the while maintaining his gaze at the floor.

Jack left his boss's office and returned to his own. Screw it, he thought.

Dorrissa was sitting at her desk when the phone rang. It was Kevin. He had heard back from Bruce. He and Linda would be coming next Wednesday February 21st for a tour of the Wycliffe Complex. She thanked Kevin for the information and hung up.

That evening Dorrissa noticed Jack's new identity card with the missing plus sign.

"What happened here?" she asked, pointing to the card.

Jack told her what had taken place at the office that day. It didn't much matter he said. The loss of prestige was insignificant. They had spoken earlier about his reduced salary and decided to keep the lot in Florida. They would just tighten their belts and live a more frugal lifestyle. With Becka now a permanent boarder there was a bit more money in the household kitty.

On the nineteenth of February Dorrissa received a call from Linda. Something had come up and unfortunately she was unable to attend the tour on the twenty-first. She had spoken to Bruce and he, still determined to make it, would come alone if that was okay. Of course it was she had replied.

On the twenty-first, after Bruce had visited all parts of the Wycliffe Complex, Dorrissa enticed him back to her house for dinner. Now knowing that Bruce was definitely unattached, and being the perfect matchmaker she believed herself to be, Dorrissa thought it impossible for him not to fall for Becka's charms. It had been mere coincidence that the cells she had matched for next generation Crehus had both belonged to Bruce and Becka. Well. Not really. There was a certain ring to the sound Bruce and Becka. Other than that she couldn't have known for sure that Bruce was unattached at the time. Almost certain of her persuasive womanly wiles in getting him to accept, Dorrissa had preplanned everything a few days in advance.

Jack would barbecue steaks taken from the freezing unit. A frozen prepared casserole consisting of scalloped potatoes, onions, mushrooms and different grated cheeses was ready to pop into the oven for baking. The asparagus and the crescent rolls would only take a few minutes to cook. With a few bottles of wine, white, or red preferably, good music and good conversation, presto, she would have a recipe for love.

Or at the very least it would help to get them acquainted. Of course she didn't say anything at all to Bruce about Becka being there. That would spoil the fun. And this was definitely going to be fun. Bruce was only expecting to meet Jack. In the flesh. He had already seen him on the screen.

Dorrissa fixed Bruce a drink while they awaited Jack's (and Becka's) arrival. She gave him a tour of the place and to say he was impressed would have been too moderate. When Bruce saw Becka glide into the front room he couldn't believe his eyes. She was by far and foremost genuinely gorgeous. He would learn before the evening was over that her personality matched her looks in every conceivable way.

For their part, Jack and Becka were both flabbergasted by the striking similarity of Bruce to Jack in appearance. Dorrissa however, knew that it was more than just resemblance. Jack and Bruce shared similar quirks and mannerisms that would soon become evident to the other three.

"Jack. Becka. I'd like you to meet Bruce. He is the Superintendent of the Morningside Child Rearing Center up by Barrie," said Dorrissa.

"Pleased to meet you," they both chimed.

"Jack is my long time partner, forever partner if I have my way, and Becka is his secretary. She lives with us as our boarder also. Can I get you both something to drink?"

"I'll have a cold beer," Jack said with a smile.

"A Labatt 50 coming right up."

"You drink fifty?" asked Bruce, with a grin.

"You betcha. When you're out of 50 you're out of beer!"

"How about you Becka?" Dorrissa asked.

"A glass of white wine if you have it?"

"Certainly."

"I used to watch you on the media screen," said Bruce. Probably because people were always telling me that I looked like you. I got great service in restaurants," Bruce laughed.

"No doubt," said Jack. "There is a fascinating resemblance I must say. Other than your eye or hair color I could be looking into a mirror."

"Maybe you're twins," Becka joked.

Dorrissa turned around sharply with an 'oh-oh' look on her face. "What year were you created Bruce?" she asked.

"Twenty one o eight," he replied.

"Nope, guess not. Jack's got four years on you."

"So do you my Dear," said Jack, amusingly.

"Don't be impertinent," called back Dorrissa. "I'm going to throw this casserole in the oven. How about starting the barbecue Jack?"

"If you'll excuse me," said Jack. He went out to the side deck.

Bruce and Becka sat down on the couch and became totally immersed in conversation. Dorrissa peered in at them from the kitchen. It would be obvious to anyone that they were definitely hitting it off. They were meant for each other she thought. After dinner Dorrissa served apple pie alamode.

"That was the best meal I've eaten in a long time," said Bruce, with thorough meaning.

"I'm not surprised, you being unpartnered and all. I'm glad you enjoyed it," added Dorrissa.

"What about that homemade barbecue sauce from my own recipe?" asked Jack, on a personal praise seeking expedition.

"That was really delicious. What's in it?" asked Bruce, in part, being cordial.

"Secret ingredients, my lips are sealed."

"You'll never get it out of him," laughed Dorrissa. "Is anyone up for a game of scrabble?"

"Don't think you can beat this old teachmaster," goaded Bruce.

"I'll give it a shot," replied Jack.

"He's really quite good," said Dorrissa. The others didn't know that out of all the different games available, scrabble is Jack's favorite one.

"I'm in," said Becka.

After one game, which Jack had won decisively and smugly rubbed it in, it was time for Bruce to leave.

"I've got to be up for work early tomorrow but I can't think of when I've had a nicer time. I was wondering Becka, if it's okay with your hosts here, if you'd care to go out with me this coming Saturday? I could pick you up in the morning."

"Her hosts here?" questioned Dorrissa. "First names will do just fine thank you," she said smiling.

"If it's okay with Jack and Dorrissa," corrected Bruce.

"Hey. I'm of age this year. I'll be twenty-five if I'm not already. And I'd love to go out with you," said Becka, brimming ear to ear.

"Just make sure you have her back before the streetlights come on," said Jack.

Becka eyeballed Jack and gave him a dirty look.

"Just kidding," he said, laughing.

"Okay if I pick you up at ten?" asked Bruce.

"Sure, I'll look forward to it."

"Fine, I'll see you then. Goodnight Becka, Dorrissa. It was nice meeting you Jack. You're much more pleasant in person than you are on the media screen."

"Whatever that means?" wondered Jack, looking puzzled.

"It's a compliment. Goodnight everyone," said Bruce.

"Goodnight Bruce," they said waving goodbye.

"Drive safely," Dorrissa added.

That night after Becka had gone to bed, floated to bed would be more accurate, and Jack and Dorrissa were lying in theirs, Jack asked Dorrissa outright, "What do you know about this Bruce character?"

"He is not a character at all. He's a nice guy. I did a complete background check on him before inviting him over. You above all people should know how I feel about Becka. There is no way I would ever take a chance on her getting hurt. I know you also care about her very much. Believe me I had concerns....Afterthoughts about things.....When she first moved in. After all, 'a babe like her' to use your own words. I wondered," Dorrissa paused. "I wondered if it was a smart move to invite her to live with us. But I just brushed those thoughts aside. I relegated them to the back-burner of my mind. I trust you both implicitly."

"You know she's a virgin?" said Jack.

"How do you know that?"

"Remember that night, New Year's Day, when she was here with her two friends, Constance and Ashley? We left for dinner. I set it up for Sloan to get drunk and be bedded by them."

"You didn't," said Dorrissa, alarmed.

"Oh yes I did. I was pissed off by what had happened in the sauna. It was my way of exacting revenge."

"Jack, how could you? I can't believe you would stoop to such a thing."

"The girls thought it was a lark. Anyway, the point is, I asked Becka if she had taken part. She told me no. She said she was saving herself for partnering with the right man."

"No wonder Sloan hates you so much," said Dorrissa.

"Well the feeling's mutual. I don't like him much either. I just want to be sure that Bruce is worthy of her. That's why I mentioned it."

"Bruce is a good person. You have to admit I must be a good judge of character to have ended up with you."

"I'll buy that," said Jack, kissing her on the cheek.

"Don't forget Jack. Becka is entering her twenty-fifth year. She's big enough to look after herself. She will do just fine whoever she ends up with. Now why don't you turn out that light and give me a cuddle."

"I could manage that," said Jack, with a big grin.

Looking at Jack lovingly Dorrissa said, "It's so good to have you back at home."

For the rest of February and all through March, Becka's comings and goings were a flurry of activity. Dorrissa had been right. The more Jack saw of Bruce the more he liked him. He was a good person.

The first exchange of Crehu children, two dozen from each rearing center, had already taken place between Wycliffe and Morningside. It was to be for a six month trial evaluation. Jack was well settled into his old work routine and once a day, without fail, Dorrissa would check on her developing fetuses.

April 7, 2150 started out like any other day. Jack and Dorrissa had both risen to the siren, showered, and Dorrissa was preparing breakfast. Becka was in her room. Jack walked out to the end of the driveway for the morning newspaper. He picked it up and scanned the front page. There in bold print, in two inch headlines, was the shocking news.

"Former Canadian Prime Minister's Partner Killed in Shark Attack"

Jack felt numb. Like all the air had just been sucked out of his lungs. The story read as follows:

Late yesterday afternoon, Australian time, Ms. Ruth Riserfish, longtime partner of Canada's former External Prime Minister Steven Laurence, died tragically in what the authorities seem to believe was an attack by a great white shark. Ms. Riserfish, who by all accounts is said to have been an excellent swimmer, decided to take a last minute dip in the waters of Discovery Bay off the Southeast coast of Australia.

Known for its beautiful coral reefs and multi colored tropical fish, Ms. Riserfish was apparently swimming alone at the time. Discovery Bay, which rests in the small town of Port MacDonnell not far from the city of Melbourne, is not known to be waters frequented by great whites. This seems to have been a random and spontaneous act by a lone straggler. Mr. Laurence, who had been sunbathing on the beach at the time, was taken to the Sunnyvale Hospital in Melbourne where it was determined that he is suffering from an extreme case of severe shock. Ms. Riserfish's remains were recovered and the body is now resting at the Melbourne Downtown City Morgue where a forensic exam and autopsy will take place to make certain in part, the type of shark responsible for the attack. No other news, including funeral arrangements, is known at this time.

Jack, eyes filled with tears, ran back into the house clutching the newspaper in his clenched, white-knuckled fist.

"Dorrissa, Dorrissa!" he screamed in agony.

"What Jack? What is it?" Dorrissa shouted out loud in alarm, running to meet him.

"Ruth is dead!" he blurted out.

Becka, upon hearing the loud disturbance, ran from her room.

"She was attacked yesterday by a shark," said Jack, hurtling the paper to the ground in frenzied sorrow. He sunk to the floor on his knees, head in hands, as his uncontrollable sobbing filled the air. Dorrissa picked it up to read the article. Before she had finished her hands started to tremble. By the last line, she too had become flushed with tears. Dropping the newspaper, she knelt down on the ground putting her arms around Jack to console him. And be consoled.

Becka bent down and retrieved the paper. Although filled with strong sadness, more so for Jack and Dorrissa, she was not affected in the manner to which they had been. This being a Saturday, Jack and Dorrissa could grieve their loss at home.

Bruce arrived shortly after noon to take Becka on an outing. Due to the circumstances Becka thought that she should stay home but Dorrissa, proving to be more emotionally stable than Jack at this time, insisted she go.

That afternoon, somewhat recovered from their initial shock, Dorrissa placed a long distance call to the Sunnyvale Hospital in Melbourne.

"I'm sorry but Mr. Laurence is on medication, presently sedated and sleeping soundly. He is under doctor's orders and no calls are being allowed at this time. If you leave your name and number, I will see that he receives your message," said the voice on the other end of the line.

Dorrissa did as requested and then hung up the phone. They called again on Sunday and received the same reply. Monday through Thursday was no different. By this time, Jack, filled with great concern, wanted to fly down to Australia in person to be with Steven. Although Dorrissa had been feeling the loss very much herself she knew she would be going nowhere. Not while her progeny was in such a fragile state of dependency. It was three o'clock in the morning when their phone rang. It was Steven. Dorrissa answered it and put it on speaker so Jack could talk too.

He had received their messages but had been too distraught to return their calls until now. They were not the only ones to have called. Ray Trandlore had phoned and so had Leonard Jamling, along with an endless stream of media. He had even heard from his old friend Livingstone Richwaters who had found out about the tragedy on the news. Steven didn't want to speak to anyone right now and just wanted to be left alone in his grief. He blamed himself for Ruth's death. She had asked him to come for one more swim but he had declined.

They were supposed to have been in a safe sheltered bay. Never in a million years would he have anticipated such a terrible tragedy. Ruth was an expert swimmer.

Steven said he would be leaving the hospital the next day and going back to the resort they had been staying at to gather up Ruth's things. The autopsy did, in fact, say the shark had been a great white. The authorities had undertaken a search and destroy mission for the giant but it had proven fruitless.

Ruth's body had been cremated and he would be returning to Canada with her ashes. He did not know when. Finally, with his emotions getting the better of him, Steven said goodbye. Jack and Dorrissa deeply felt the pain that Steven was experiencing. Though somewhat relieved and uplifted by hearing his voice they were still very much down in the dumps.

A week had passed since Jack and Dorrissa had last spoken with Steven. Concerned about his welfare and wondering his whereabouts Jack had an idea. "Dorrissa," he called out. "Do you know where the postcard that Steve and Ruth sent us from Australia is?"

"Yes. I believe I put it on the shelf in the kitchen."

Getting the postcard, she brought it in to the living room where Jack was sitting. He took it and looked at the name that was pictured on the front of it. The resort was called The Dream Discovery. Obtaining the phone number Jack placed a call.

"Hello. I'm calling to enquire if you have a guest there by the name of Steven Laurence?"

"I'm sorry Sir. Mr. Laurence checked out a few days ago," said the lady on the other end.

"Would you know where he might have gone?"

"I'm sorry Sir. Mr. Laurence did not leave a forwarding address."

"Thank you anyway," said Jack, hanging up. "Well, it was worth a try," he said to Dorrissa.

"Why don't you ring his apartment," she suggested.

Jack keyed in his home number but there was no answer.

"We can try again in a few days," said Dorrissa, rubbing Jack's shoulder.

That very same afternoon Becka returned from an outing with Bruce. Jack and Dorrissa had been browsing the channels on the media screen.

"Guys," said Becka, "we need to talk to you."

"By all means, have a seat," said Jack.

Both Becka and Bruce looked bashfully nervous but Becka more so. Bruce realizing this, and being the gentleman that he was, came directly to the point.

"Becka and I have fallen in love and we want to live together."

Jack and Dorrissa had been well aware of what was happening but had not anticipated this end result so soon.

"But you can't do that. You are an A and Becka is only a T," said Jack.

"That's right," said Becka, now ready to jump into the fray, "T for Temporary. But now that I am in my twenty-fifth year my rank must be changed."

"To an A?" said Jack. "It will never go through."

"Sloan got an A. And he's only been out in the world for.......Well, not even a year?" answered Becka. "Since I work at the institute and you sit on the Rank Committee Review Board, I was wondering if there was something that might be done to enable me to receive an A."

"Not to my knowledge. Even with your good standing and my recommendation I don't really see any way of getting you higher than a D or C," said Jack.

"What about the section dealing with minor variance?" asked Becka.

"That is just what it is. Minor. It's only used in cases where a person will positively be receiving a rank upgrade and they are only waiting for the mere formality of their hearing to take place. Only in these instances, with the firm knowledge of a matched rank upgrading about to take place, may a lower level Crehu be allowed to reside with a higher level one," stated Jack.

"But we're in love!" Becka blurted out in exasperation.

"We know that Dear. Jack. You must try to do something," Dorrissa pleaded.

Sitting quietly and listening to the conversational crossings Bruce finally spoke up bluntly, "I'll resign my rank! I'll lower myself to whatever level Becka attains. I don't care what consequences may be involved."

So impulsive thought Dorrissa. I could see Jack saying the very same thing.

"Don't say that," warned Jack. "Once you lower yourself of your own accord you will be stuck there for life. Becka's got no where to go but up. She will surpass you in no time and you'll be torn apart for sure."

"Then I shall lower my rank also," countered Becka.

"That's not a solution. When the government gets wind of your commitment to each other they'll break you up just for spite. Believe me I know. Besides, you have to think of the thousands of dollars of potential earnings in your lifetime that you would both be passing up. What about spending the rest of your days doing the lousy menial jobs that you most certainly would receive? No. Your only practical recourse is for both of you to wait it out. With any luck at all, sooner or later, Becka will reach an A by her many virtues," said Jack.

"Say. I have an idea?" said Becka, whose brain had been going non stop. "What if we both moved to Susan Edwardianson's house as boarders? She has a big place. I'm of age shortly and I can live wherever I want. Providing of course I'm not partnered with a different rank."

"The government would be suspicious of such a move. You could well likely be monitored. That's the last thing in the world you would both want to happen," said Jack, thinking about the dire consequences that could result if such an event were to take place.

"No you mustn't consider that to be an option Becka and you know why," reminded Dorrissa.

"What are you talking about?" asked Jack, ears perking up.

"Just the fact of them being monitored," replied Dorrissa. She tried to be as evasive as possible. "You told me how dangerous it is, remember?"

"Yes. But that was in the context of Family Survival Group members."

"All the same, danger is danger, right?" asked Dorrissa.

"That's true. Listen both of you," said Jack, to Bruce and Becka. "You must be patient. I will do whatever I can to ensure Becka receives the highest rank possible. I promise."

Two weeks had passed and it was now the last week of April. Jack and Dorrissa still had no word on Steven's whereabouts. Becka had attended an interview with Mr. Smithington in regard to the changing of her rank. She had been given a C. Although not what she had strived for it was still very impressive for a person of her age.

It had now been more than three months since Dorrissa had begun life for her personal bevy of Crehus. It was amazing to her how their little forms were taking shape, changing every day, in their translucent, artificial wombs. More than just the miracle of life itself evolving, two of those lives would be direct descendents of hers. She would be their actual mother and Jack their father. Nothing in the world could make her happier.

Over at the Teachmasters Review Board Sloan was on his way to a hearing, one that he was excited to attend. It was for his old friend Tim 225S23, the surly teachmaster who had rebuked him so many times but a short year before. Back when he was a resident at the Yorkton Center.

Tim was there to answer charges of physical and emotional abuse towards students. Sloan had been well aware of the emotional side of it but apparently it had escalated to the point of physical.

As Tim watched Sloan walk into the room and take his seat, he was filled with fear. Seeing the scornful and scowling look on Sloan's face, Tim bitterly regretted the scurrilous jibes and puerile antics he had inflicted upon him in the past. The hearing was a foregone conclusion, over in less than an hour. Written testimonies had been taken and read before the board. Entered as evidence, they now confirmed his guilt. Tim's impassioned pleas for forgiveness fell on deaf ears. The only thing that remained was the determination of his punishment.

Once Tim had been escorted from the room Sloan spoke up. "I think he should go to prison."

"But that is highly irregular," said Anson, Chairman of the Review Board. "No teachmaster, nor anyone else for that matter, has ever received such draconian treatment for their ill conceived misjudgments."

"Ill conceived misjudgments?" shouted Sloan. "Highly unlikely I dare say. That man knew exactly what he was doing and an example must be made," argued Sloan.

"But it is not in our power. All we can do is to remove him from his position at the most. Transfer him to a different center along with a negative rank at the least. Only the Rank Review Committee can convey a harsher form of punishment," said Anson.

"Then I think that he should be sent to the Rank Institute along with our recommendation for Artic imprisonment," said Sloan sternly.

All this time the other members on the review board had been listening intently to the arguments taking place. No one had said a word as they were all in awe of Sloan and how fast he had risen in rank along with his behind-the-scenes power they believed he wielded. Anson was also very aware of this fact. Even though he was chairman he was constantly reminded every time he saw Sloan of how fast and furious his predecessor Cory's demise had been.

"In fact, I make a motion to that effect," said Sloan, shrewdly and calculating.

In turmoil and personal trepidation, Anson asked for it to be seconded. A hand was raised and finally the motion was carried...Unanimously. When Tim was brought out to hear the verdict he broke down and wept openly. Sniveling moron; that will teach the teachmaster Sloan thought, grinning like a maniac.

That afternoon, while gloating over his victory, an idea blossomed inside Sloan's brain. From now on he would see to it that the worst offensive teachmasters coming before him would be transferred to the Wycliffe Child Rearing Center. With any luck at all, a bad reflection on the Crehus being turned out there could rebound back into the lap of Dorrissa and her birthing lab. That would please him to no end.

In the evening Sloan went out to celebrate his eventful day. He had not seen or spoken to Trent since Trent's ill timed appearance at his space when Sharon had stayed over. Their stubborn pride was a big factor in their continued estrangement from each other, or so Sloan believed. While he still frequented their favorite drinking haunts and establishments, Trent was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had disappeared off the face of the earth, or the city of Toronto. Tonight would be no different, with one exception.

On his way home after a night of bar hopping and binge drinking, Sloan decided to nip in for a nightcap at a small strip club he had never been to. While sipping on a double scotch on the rocks he noticed a strangely familiar face. Sloan studied the man closely. Then it hit him. Like a ton of bricks. It was the man Trent had been staring at in the bar the last time they had been together; the man that had gotten up and followed Trent outside after he had made a scene and spilled his drink by accident onto Trent. The man that was directly responsible, he believed, for the breakup of their relationship.

Sloan finished his drink and then ordered another. And another one after that while he bided his time. Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, the man got up to leave. He was by himself. Downing his drink, Sloan discreetly followed him outside. The man made his way along the sidewalk for a block and a half, bobbing and weaving as he went, until he came to rest at the top of the stairs to a subway entrance.

The man gripped tightly the side railing to steady himself as Sloan quietly and cautiously snuck up from behind. As soon as he released his grip on the railing and started down the stairs Sloan pounced, pushing him with all his might. The man flew through the air striking his head again and again on the concrete steps as his body tumbled over and over, in a blood splattered mass, until it reached bottom in a twisted pile of flesh. Sloan peered around in the darkness. Only the eerie glow from the streetlights attested to what had happened. Not a soul was in sight.

"I guess you won't be messing with me anymore," said Sloan, in devilish delight, before turning and briskly walking away.

The morning papers announced the accidental death of Ryan 276T35 as drunken misadventure. He had apparently stumbled and fell on his way home from a night of heavy drinking. The smell of alcohol emitted from his body was overwhelmingly atrocious said the controllers who found him.

Sloan smiled at the news. It worked the first time. The second time was sure to be a cinch.

Chapter 10

It was a Friday evening, the eleventh of May, when the phone rang. Dorrissa picked it up. "Hello," she said.

"Dorrissa?" sounded the reply.

"Steven? Steven is that you?" asked Dorrissa, reaching over to switch on the viewing monitor. "Steven I can't believe it. We've been so worried about you. Where have you been all this time?"

"Who you talking to?" asked Jack, walking into the room.

"Jack, it's Steven!" exclaimed Dorrissa, flushed with emotion.

"Steven? He's back?" shouted Jack, running to the monitor.

"Yes, I'm back," said Steven dejectedly. "I couldn't stay away forever. Though I sometimes wish I could. I feel so depressed. This place, with all of its memories..."

"We're coming over. You should not be there by yourself," interrupted Dorrissa.

"No. That's not necessary. I'll be fine."

"I won't take no for an answer," Dorrissa replied.

"Me neither," said Jack.

"Very well then, it will be nice to see you both."

Jack and Dorrissa hurriedly packed a few things and left a note for Becka who was out, as usual, with Bruce. Driving well over the speed limit, they managed to get to the station parking lot in record time. They caught a southbound train just as it was ready to pull out. In just over an hour they found themselves at Steven's building. "We're staying the night," Dorrissa informed Steven as she hugged him tightly.

The three of them stayed up talking all night and watched as the sunrise greeted the day. Steven reminisced about the tragic accident. It should have been him out there he said. The shark should have attacked him. Ruth was an excellent swimmer, and very fast, so it stood to reason that the shark would have gotten him instead of her.

"Why don't we all go out for breakfast?" suggested Jack, trying to change the subject for the umpteenth time. Steven had been continually blaming himself off and on all through the night.

"I'm not really hungry," said Steven, "just very tired."

"Why don't we all get some rest and perhaps go out for something later?" said Dorrissa.

"That sounds better," said Steven. "You can show Dorrissa where the spare room is Jack. I'm going to lie down."

After a bit of a nap and a fresh change of clothes the three of them went out for brunch.

"I'm going to give up my apartment and move to my summer house. I really must get away," said Steven.

"You will be too lonely up there all by yourself," said Dorrissa.

"I'll manage.......Better than I will here."

"When do you think that will be?" asked Jack.

"I hope to be there permanently before the end of this month. You know Ruth and I were both looking forward to you visiting with us on Spring Day weekend. I hope you will still be able to make it?" said Steven.

"We wouldn't miss it for anything," reassured Dorrissa.

"It's on the twenty-sixth this year. That's only two weeks away," said Steven.

"No problem. We'll be there," guaranteed Jack.

"I'll draw you a map so you don't get lost."

"Can you excuse me for a minute? I have to go to the washroom," said Jack.

"We won't order until you return," stated Dorrissa.

Jack quickly made his way to the outside lobby where the washrooms were and found a phone stall situated there. Entering the name Shelly into the electronic name finder he quickly scrolled down the list. If he could only have remembered her identity card number he would have found her at once. Fortunately he remembered her year of creation and the fact that she was number three hundred and something thereafter. Wait. That's it. Shelly 1346M20. Jack keyed in the number and the phone began to ring. Once, twice, three times.

"I'm sorry. I'm not in right now. Please leave a message."

Heck, thought Jack, she's out. Just as he was about to hang up a voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Shelly?"

"Yes."

"Hi. It's Jack."

"Jack? You're kidding. Where are you?"

"I'm in Downtown Toronto. At a restaurant called The Prodigious Palate."

"What are you doing in the city?"

"Dorrissa, that's my partner..."

"Right, I know."

"We came down here last night to visit a friend, Steven Laurence, and stayed over."

"Steven Laurence?"

"Name ring a bell?" asked Jack.

"Of course it does. He's the former External Prime Minister. His partner was killed not too long ago in that tragic accident in Australia."

"That's right. Anyway, I was wondering. You know what? Perhaps this isn't such a good idea. You've probably have things to do."

"What Jack! Spit it out. I was just on my way out the door to pick up a few groceries but nothing of importance. Nothing that can't wait," said Shelly.

"I was wondering if you could come down to where we are and sort of run into us by accident. Steven is really broken up by Ruth's death. I know it's only been less than a month. But that's a long time when a person is so deeply depressed. I was thinking if you bumped into us, had a tea or something, he wouldn't feel so all alone. I think it is worse for him because Dorrissa is with me and he is by himself."

"That poor man, he must be devastated. But what will I say? What excuse can I use for accidentally bumping into you?"

"You'll think of something. Do you know where The Prodigious Palate is?"

"Yes. I believe it is on Adelaide west of Bay, right?"

"Correct," said Jack.

"It will take me at least twenty minutes to get there."

"That's okay. We'll still be here. We haven't even ordered yet. Listen. I've got to get back. I'm supposed to have gone to the washroom."

"Okay. I'm on my way," said Shelly.

"Thanks. You're a lifesaver."

As Jack walked back to their table he noticed the waitress making a beeline, heading straight for it.

"Jack. Where have you been? The waitress has been over here twice already," said Dorrissa.

"Sorry. There was a lineup. I had to wait for a cubicle. You know me. Shy kidney." said Jack, sitting down.

Steven smiled knowingly.

"Are you ready to order now?" asked the waitress, impatiently.

After the waitress left, Dorrissa said to Steven, "You should come for dinner next weekend. You've never been to our house before."

"Thanks all the same Dorrissa but I have so many things to do to prepare myself for my move. Perhaps you'll allow me a rain check on it."

"Nonsense, you need to get out more. We have a new boarder now. Becka, Jack's secretary. She's very nice and she's found herself a beau. He's a very charming man indeed. We can invite them also," said Dorrissa.

"And I'll be odd man out. No. Make that OLD man out. I don't think so Dorrissa. Thanks just the same," replied Steven.

"What do you think of the government's new ranking system Steve?" asked Jack, purposely changing the subject realizing that Steven was becoming uncomfortable.

"I only just heard about it," he replied.

The three of them talked about the ranking system, the new Family Survival Complex and Jack's terminated appointment with his loss of rank and salary. Time passed quickly. It didn't seem long before a very attractive, well dressed woman walked into the room. Passing right beside their table, Shelly stopped and looked down with feigned surprise. "Jack? Jack it is you for crying out loud."

Steven, Dorrissa, and Jack, all looked up to see a beautiful, slender, brown-eyed brunette standing before them.

"Shelly? Well, what do you know? Of all the places to meet up with you.....Oh, please excuse me. Dorrissa, Steven, this is Shelly. You remember me mentioning Shelly, Dorrissa," said Jack. "She was Dolly's friend."

"Hello," said Steven and Dorrissa.

"Mr. Prime Minister. I'm so sorry for what happened to your partner. I heard about it on the media screen," said Shelly.

"It's not Prime Minister anymore. It's just plain Steven and thank you. I appreciate your concern."

"What are you doing here, heavy date?" asked Jack.

"No. I'm by myself, window shopping. Boundless browsing I like to call it. I thought I would take a short break and nip in for a spot of tea. Nice meeting you all," said Shelly, as she turned to walk away.

"We haven't had tea or coffee yet. Why don't you join us if you're all alone? There's an extra seat," said Jack. "You don't mind do you guys?" he asked.

Shelly looked ponderingly at Jack saying, "Thanks anyway. But I shouldn't impose, an ordinary girl like me and all."

Before Jack had a chance to answer he heard Steven bellow out, "Baloney. We are all ordinary people at this table. Especially myself now that I'm retired. You sit right down here beside me before you get my dander up. No ands, ifs, or buts about it."

"You had better do as he says. He used to be the Prime Minister and it wouldn't pay to cross him," smiled Jack. "You don't mind do you Dorrissa?" Jack added.

"Please. Won't you join us?" asked Dorrissa. She was sure that Jack was up to something. She knew him only too well.

"That makes it unanimous," said Jack.

"Thank you very much," said Shelly, sitting down.

After the waitress brought individual pots of tea all around, Shelly said, "It's nice to have finally met you Dorrissa. Dolly spoke of you often. She was a good friend. I hear you are the superintendent at a birthing lab. What's it like?"

Dorrissa told Shelly all about it. In the course of the conversation Shelly talked about working at the morgue.

"I think I'd be a little squeamish working there," said Steven.

"It would give me the willies," said Dorrissa.

"It's a dead end job," cracked Steven.

"You get used to it," said Shelly.

They talked for upwards of an hour. When the last of the tea had been drained from their pots, cups empty, Shelly said, "It's been so very nice meeting you both but I really must be going. Nice seeing you again Jack. Maybe we'll bump into each other again sometime."

Shelly stood up to leave. Both Steven and Jack got up also. She took Jack's hand in farewell and then Steven's saying, "Prime Minister."

"It's Steven."

"Steven. I'm sorry," said Shelly, bashfully.

"Dorrissa," said Shelly, shaking her hand. "Goodbye everyone," Shelly added.

"Nice lady," said Steven, sitting down, watching her intently as she left the room.

That's what I wanted to hear thought Jack. "Yes she is," he agreed.

Back at his apartment Steven thanked them both for coming and said that he had enjoyed their visit immensely. However, there were things that needed doing and he would see them again on Spring Day weekend. Dorrissa reminded Steven of her dinner invitation for next Saturday night and he said he would think about it. Dorrissa could see that he was only humoring her though. After collecting their things Jack and Dorrissa headed for home. On the train ride back Dorrissa spoke up.

"Okay Jack. What are you up to this time? That Shelly woman showing up like that was no accident. I smell a rat."

"What d'ya mean?" Jack protested. He looked like a vision of innocence. "She's a nice girl."

"I never said she wasn't. That's not the point. You can't pull the wool over my eyes Buster. I know you're up to something."

"Like Ducks!"

"C'mon Jack. Out with it," ordered Dorrissa.

"I just thought it would be nice for Steve to meet someone that's all."

"Jack. For goodness sake the man has just lost his lifetime partner. He's still mourning her loss."

"That's all the more reason for him to meet someone new. You saw how he took a shine to her. His depression for the first time seemed to dissipate into thin air. It was Steve, after all, who demanded she join us."

"Just the same," said Dorrissa. "It's so soon after Ruth's death.

"Maybe so," allowed Jack. "But this seemed an opportune time. Who will he meet once he's secluded up north in his cottage? I was thinking of inviting her for dinner next Saturday night."

"No way, we don't even know her," said Dorrissa, adamantly.

"I didn't know Bruce either. I trusted your judgment. The least you can do is trust mine. Remember what you said? You told me you were such a good judge of character because you ended up with me. Well, it's a two way street. I ended up with you. All I'm asking is for you to give me the benefit of doubt. That is, give Shelly the benefit of doubt."

"I don't want to see Steven get hurt. He's been through too much pain already."

"And I didn't want to see Becka get hurt either."

"But there is such an age difference between Steven and Shelly," said Dorrissa.

"And there's not with Bruce and Becka?" questioned Jack.

"That's different."

"Hogwash," said Jack.

"Look. I don't want to fight about it," said Dorrissa.

"Fine, can she come for dinner then?"

"I'll think about it."

On Wednesday evening Dorrissa phoned Steven to ask if he was coming for dinner.

"I don't think so. I've still got so much to do. I'm expecting buyers to come and take a look at my furniture."

"Oh it's so beautiful. How can you think of selling it?"

"Much of it belonged to my parents, handed down from my grandparents," replied Steven.

"You can't sell that Steven. Besides the sentimentality of it, nothing they make today can come close to its sheer elegance."

"What else can I do with it? I have no room for it at the cottage."

"Maybe you could store it?" Dorrissa suggested.

"Well.......There is an abandoned hunting and fishing lodge on my property. It's very old but not in too bad of a shape. I've been inside it a few times. It has old styled metal barn roofing that sounds absolutely delightful when the rain is pelting down on it. Perhaps I could store it there. I just don't know. Listen. You have a good time at your dinner party. Say hi to Jack for me."

"Shelly will be so disappointed," Dorrissa said thinking fast.

"Shelly?"

"Yes. Jack invited her thinking six would be a more rounded number than five. I'm afraid now she will feel left out."

There was a quiet hesitation.

"I dare say I know how that feels. We wouldn't want that," replied Steven. "What time were you going to have dinner?"

"Jack is supposed to pick Shelly up at the train station at four o'clock," Dorrissa fibbed.

"Hmm," sounded Steven. "If I reschedule a few things perhaps I could make it. Four o'clock you say?"

"Yes," said Dorrissa, containing her glee.

"Fine, I'll be there."

"Oh that's terrific. I'll tell Jack. We'll see you Saturday then. Goodbye Steven."

"Jack? Jack?" called Dorrissa.

"What is it?" he asked from downstairs.

"You have to call Shelly and invite her for dinner on Saturday?"

"Shelly? But I thought......."

"Yes. I told Steven she was coming."

"I smell a rat," Jack said with a broad grin.

Saturday afternoon Jack went to the station to pick up Steven and Shelly. Totally caught up in conversation they were both unaware of his arrival. It seems they had bumped into each other on the station platform in Toronto and had been talking nonstop ever since. Bruce was already at Jack and Dorrissa's house by the time Jack arrived with his passengers. After introductions all around Steven said to Bruce, "You know? You look an awful lot like Jack."

"That's what they tell me," Bruce laughed. "But then........So do you. Only an older model," he affirmed.

Everyone laughed.

If they only knew, thought Dorrissa.

"What can I get everyone to drink?" asked Jack.

After fixing and serving drinks, gin slings for the girls and Labatt 50's for the guys, Jack joined everyone and took a seat in the living room.

"A fifty man eh? A guy after my own heart," praised Steven.

"Hey. Guess what? It's two hundred years old this year. We have to celebrate," volunteered Jack.

"That sounds like it would taste pretty skunky to me," offered Dorrissa.

"Like Ducks," replied Jack.

"When you're out of Fifty........" began Steven.

"You're out of beer," finished Bruce.

The girls looked at each other, rolled their eyes and shook their heads back and forth knowingly at such a boyish display of humor. This made the men laugh even more at their superfluous wit.

"You have a nice place here," said Steven.

"Yes it's lovely," Shelly agreed.

"Thank you," replied Jack and Dorrissa.

"Dinner should be ready in about one hour," stated Dorrissa.

"I was sorry to hear what happened to Ruth," said Becka. She wanted to acknowledge the accident in a proper manner but at the same time did not want to put a damper on the enjoyable atmosphere.

"I was also very sorry to hear about it," said Bruce.

"Thank you both. It's something I'll never get over," said Steven, glumly.

"So Bruce," said Dorrissa, taking the hint and changing the subject, "how are the new group of kids adapting?"

"They're coming around slowly."

"Kids?" wondered Shelly.

"Yes. Bruce is the Superintendent of the Morningside Child Rearing Center and he did an exchange in Crehu children with Wycliffe where I work."

"It must be fun to be around children all the time," stated Shelly.

"Anything has to be better than cadavers," observed Jack.

"Yuck," said Becka.

"Shelly works at a morgue in Toronto," said Dorrissa.

"Yuck. How gross," Becka said scrunching up her nose.

"You get used to it," replied Shelly. "I hear you're Jack's secretary?"

"Yes, going on four years now."

"Now that's a nice job. No shift work, weekends off. Wanna trade?" asked Shelly.

"Not a chance! Forget it."

With the ice now broken, the conversation became brisk and bubbly just like the champagne Jack decided to serve before dinner.

"I never did get a chance to properly toast you with champagne before," Jack said to Steven. "To Steven Laurence, on his retirement, may there be many wonderful years ahead."

"Excuse me," said Steven, putting down his drink, eyes glassed over in tears, and getting up and leaving the room.

"Now you've gone and done it you big oaf," said Dorrissa, "always sticking that foot in your mouth."

"Way to go Jack," added Becka, disparagingly.

"Steven. I'm sorry. I didn't think," Jack cried out after him.

"It's not your fault Jack. He's very emotional right now. I'll go talk to him," said Shelly.

Shelly found Steven standing in the kitchen, hands clutching the sink, sort of bent over looking out the window. "Steven. Jack didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know that. It's just......uh......I loved her so much," he said, gasping for breath mid sentence.

Shelly placed one of her hands on his shoulder and rubbed his back in a comforting circle with the other one. "I know you did. We all know you did. I wish I could have known her. Or even to have met her. I'm sure she was a very special lady."

"She was," said Steven. "She was very special."

When Steven had composed himself they returned to the front room.

"I'm really sorry Steven," said Jack, quite emotional.

"It's me Jack. Not you. I know you meant no harm. It will just take time, that's all."

"Dinner is ready everyone," said Dorrissa.

With full bellies all, and an empty magnum of wine to show for it, Dorrissa's dinner had been a well-merited success.

"You should change your name Jack," said Becka.

"What d'ya mean?" Jack asked defiantly.

"Well. We have Bruce and Becka and Steven and Shelly. How about Donald and Dorrissa?" laughed Becka.

"Like Ducks!" Jack said.

"Exactly. Like Donald Ducks," Becka added, now in stitches as everyone else joined in at Jack's expense.

"How about Jack and Jill?" Jack offered joining in on the fun. He wouldn't be the fall guy.

Convulsed in laughter, the room exploded with the sounds of raucous merriment.

"You know," said Steven, "Jack and Jill are coming up to my cottage next week for Spring Day weekend."

"Donald and Dorrissa," Dorrissa interrupted, a wee bit tippled.

Everyone laughed.

"Why don't you all come up?" prodded Steven. "It's beautiful there this time of year. We would have such a marvelous time together. What do you say?"

"That's black fly weekend," Becka said in profound, unmitigated horror.

"What a whimp," accused Jack.

"They all disappear at night. If it's too bad for you in the daytime you can stay inside," said Steven.

"C'mon Becka. If I can endure it so can you," challenged Dorrissa.

"I'm up for it," said Bruce.

"What about you Shelly?" Steven asked hopefully.

"Aw.......I'd love to. But I'm scheduled to work that weekend."

"Can't you switch with someone?" asked Dorrissa.

"No. I'm always getting dumped on whenever there is a holiday."

"How about if I intervene on your behalf?" suggested Steven.

"Could you?" wondered Shelly. Her eyes were wide in anticipation.

"Oh, I think I may be able to pull a few strings," smiled Steven, tongue in cheek.

"That would be fantastic," said Shelly. "I love it up north. I could live there and never, ever return to the city."

Steven raised his eyebrows at that comment.

"I think he's only talking about that weekend Shelly," Jack teased.

Everyone laughed including Shelly.

Steven studied her features. She looked so beautiful when she laughed. He felt a surge of joy cascade through his veins like the rushing of water moving constricted through a rapid. When her eyes caught his there was more than just sparks. Tiny ticklish tingles would traverse up and down his spine. As if he was chilled. At his age he thought? Steven almost felt embarrassed by it. Ruth was watching over him and was truly instrumental in his and Shelly's meeting he firmly believed. Something he didn't openly admit to, Steven always believed deep down in God and the existence of Heaven. He had, after all, been brought up in a religious household.

"Becka," Steven called. "What about it? Are you still undecided?"

"Don't worry about it Steven. She can mind the house when we're gone," Dorrissa joked.

"Like Ducks!" Becka said, to all-round laughter. Four years of listening to Jack seemed to be rubbing off on her. "I'll buy some bug spray."

"Fine, it's all settled then," affirmed Steven. "I guess I'll have to buy myself a car."

"I wondered if you owned a car," said Jack. "I thought you might have one at your cottage."

"I've never needed one before. I've always had a government vehicle at my disposal."

"You know, if it wasn't for your different ranks I would almost believe you guys were partnered and lived together," Shelly said to Bruce and Becka.

Becka blushed. Her blush was not lost on Steven.

"A stunning observation of acute clarity from the experienced eye of the beholder," announced Jack.

"Right," said Dorrissa frowning. "You're cut off."

"The government, in all its asinine self-serving glory......Excuse me Steven, no offense intended......refuses to allow Becka and I to live together. That's true. When we are in public we must be very careful not to draw attention to ourselves. In private of course, among friends, we are able to relax thank goodness. Becka and I," Bruce added looking longingly and lovingly into her eyes and squeezing her hand tightly, "are very much a couple."

"No offense taken. And God speed to that moment when you are both one," said Steven.

All heads were turned, eyes focusing on Steven at the conclusion of his last comment.

"You didn't expect me to say government speed did you?" he laughed.

"Do you believe in God, Steven?" Dorrissa asked sincerely.

"Well. Like Bruce said we are among friends. The plain and simple answer to your question is......I do."

"Have you ever seen a bible?" Dorrissa continued.

"Yes. In the United States I have, but not here in Canada. Not growing up. They had all been confiscated and destroyed. My parents and grandparents would tell me wonderful stories though. Stories that had to be kept secret, they made me promise, for fear of government retribution."

The rest of the evening Steven told them of events, tales he had been told, of the bible and the people in it. How strange it was thought Dorrissa. It felt almost as if she were hosting a Family Support Group meeting and had the ex Prime Minister as guest speaker. At the end of the night Bruce offered to drive Steven and Shelly back to the train station.

"Where do you live Becka?" asked Shelly.

"Right here for now."

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" said Dorrissa. "Becka is our new boarder."

"I thought you had some guy boarding with you. Now let me see. What was his name?" questioned Shelly, trying to remember.

"You mean Sloan?" asked Dorrissa.

"Yes that's it. Whatever happened to him?"

"Whatever happened to him indeed," echoed Jack. "Who knows, who cares," he added.

Sloan, in fact, had turned into a virtual recluse. Not long after proving his perpetual propensity for violence, by once again taking another life, he had run into Trent at an after hours speakeasy. A drunken proposition, with Trent spurning his awkward advances, had ended with Sloan vilely spewing forth his venomous anger.

"That night you walked out on me, you prick, you weren't alone. I saw that fucking asshole follow you out. It was you who cheated on me."

"Bullshit," said Trent. "I was mad, thoroughly disgusted with you, and I reeked of beer. I went home to change and cool off. By myself! I was alone all night. I came over the next day to apologize and make amends. When I opened your door that day I could never have imagined the revolting, disgusting, two-timing sight I was about to see."

"I was drunk. I hit my head. She was a nurse. She helped me," said Sloan, trying to excuse his actions.

"Yea, I could see she helped you," Trent said with a sneer. "Screw off Sloan. I have someone new now," said Trent, walking away.

Sloan was now living the life of a hermit. Bitter and dejected, hurt and confused, he skulked about in the nighttime shadows. At work no one knew of his dual personality and the diabolical course his life had taken. Compulsive eating and excessive drinking had swollen his frame by thirty pounds. His reddened puffy face and bloated belly were the result of his overindulgences. Forced to live with his personal demons, Sloan was now becoming, more and more, a ruthless, dangerous man.

After taking care of Shelly's shift problem for the coming weekend, Steven arranged with movers for the transportation of his belongings to his rental cottage property up north. He also purchased an automobile. On Wednesday he said goodbye to the city of Toronto and drove north to cottage country. The moving van followed from behind. Jack, along with Dorrissa and Becka, would be meeting Shelly at the train station Friday evening. They would grab Bruce on the way up north.

Elliot, the morgue nighttime supervisor, confronted Shelly with some bad news Friday afternoon. Charlie had called in sick. It was unfortunate but she would have to work the weekend. She was told to be there for the Saturday afternoon shift.

"But I can't," replied Shelly. "I'm going away for the weekend. It's all been prearranged."

"Well now. I guess it has just become un-prearranged hasn't it?" said Elliot, uncaring. "Be here tomorrow or else!"

After work, at home and in tears, the embodiment of misery, Shelly packed her things. Unable to contact Steven and ask for his help she decided she would leave regardless of the consequences. She was tired of always being the scapegoat. She had her heart irrevocably set on going. Just before leaving Shelly phoned the morgue and told one of the attendants there that she was ill but hoped to be feeling fine by morning. The call was a mere formality just in case she wasn't better she had said.

Jack was waiting at the station when Shelly's train pulled in. She didn't tell anyone what had happened at her work. Not wanting to put a gloom on the weekend's festivities. Using a map which Steven had given him, it was close to eleven o'clock when Jack pulled up to the cottage. The sounds of crickets and bullfrogs could be heard in the fresh night air as they stepped from the car. Steven had seen their headlights. He had been waiting for them in eager anticipation and stepped out onto the covered porch to greet them.

"You finally made it. I was beginning to think you may have got lost."

"No. It was a good map. I've just never been up in this neck of the woods before," said Jack.

"Get your things and bring them inside. I have a nice roaring fire going and it's quite cozy if I do say so myself."

"I can smell it. It smells divine," said Shelly.

That evening was spent before the flickering fire amidst merry chatter and wholesome laughter. In the morning, after breakfast, Steven took them on a tour of the property. Due to the cold crispness of the early morning temperature, the black flies were few and far between. Much to Becka's delight, she was ecstatic, although she did bring insect repellent with her.

The vicissitude of daylight transposed a vast array of flora and fauna. A hard rain in the middle of the night had left the ground soggy and damp. A nearby freshet flowed into the lake. An almost hyperborean chill in the air, Becka placed her hands in her pockets and compressed her arms against her body for warmth. Steven pointed out vestiges of a once, sparsely wooded marshland with outcroppings of boulders that dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see. Alluvial deposits of granular material rested at the water's edge. This is the spot where Steven privately scattered Ruth's ashes.

"Who brought a bathing suit?" yelled Jack.

"Go in skinny," laughed Dorrissa.

"Dare me?" challenged Jack.

"Don't even think about it," she replied.

"Look a moose," screamed Becka, in glee, as a small rodent scurried along in the scrub underbrush.

"That was a chipmunk," chuckled Steven, shaking his head in disbelief. "See by those bushes, on that white pine," he pointed. "That's a red squirrel."

"What's that building over there?" asked Jack.

"The old hunting and fishing lodge I was telling you about," said Steven.

"Can we look inside?" asked Becka.

"Sure, if you like."

Everyone made their way over to the lodge and went inside.

"The power has been disconnected so there are no lights. But being daylight it's bright enough," said Steven.

"This is all your furniture," said Dorrissa, enthused that Steven had taken her suggestion.

"Yes, and they certainly had a job to move it in let me tell you."

"It's not bad in here at all. It's very spacious," said Bruce.

"When do you and Becka want to move in," kidded Jack.

"It wouldn't take much to fix up. You could use it as a guest house," suggested Shelly.

"You could turn it into a summer resort and charge weekly rates," said Becka.

"No thanks. I enjoy the piece and solitude and the remoteness that this location offers way too much to ever consider doing that."

"You should get a dog now that you're living up here," said Shelly.

"Do you like dogs?" asked Steven.

"I absolutely adore them," replied Shelly.

"I've thought about that. I'd like an English setter or possibly a cocker spaniel. Both those breeds appeal to me," said Steven.

"It wouldn't be easy to find a dog like that would it?" asked Bruce.

"True. I'd probably have to import one."

"How can you do that?" asked Becka.

"Oh, I still have a few contacts out there, a few strings I can pull, right Shelly?" Steven asked.

"Right," she answered, as she shuddered from within thinking about her return to work on Tuesday.

"Who's up for a game of gin rummy?" asked Steven.

"I haven't played that in ages," said Jack.

"How do you play?" asked Becka.

"C'mon we'll teach you," said Steven.

"Hey I'm the teachmaster here. If there is going to be any teaching to do I'll do it," grinned Bruce.

"Especially if it involves Becka, no doubt," offered Jack.

"To be sure," answered Bruce.

Later that afternoon, back in Toronto, the nighttime supervisor waited until six p.m. for Shelly to show up. After calling her space and receiving no answer he phoned the local control station to report her absent without leave. Two controllers were dispatched to her building. They found her green light on. This meant no life was detected inside her space. Slipping a GAC (government access card) into the slot, the controllers entered Shelly's space. No one, living or dead, was found to be inside. A quick look around proved futile in trying to determine her whereabouts.

When Elliot heard back from the controllers he was fit to be tied. He decided to phone the Crehu Monitoring Control Center. Elliot knew Shelly had been given the weekend off by the morgue manager but was not aware of the circumstances behind it. The manager was away himself for the Spring Day weekend. This left Elliot in a quandary. He finally decided that the initial reason for granting Shelly leave did not matter. He had ordered her to come to work and she had directly disobeyed him. The monitoring center was told to find her and report back to him. Within twenty minutes he had received his reply.

"This is the monitoring center, Rick speaking. I'd like to talk to Elliot, the night supervisor please."

"This is Elliot. Go ahead."

"The Crehu you're looking for, Shelly 1346M20, has been located in an area of Lake Joseph bordering the tiny village of Foot's Bay."

"Where in the name of government is that?" Elliot asked in frustration.

"The Muskokas Sir."

"Where is the nearest control center from there?"

"Parry Sound is probably a bit closer than Gravenhurst Sir."

"Great," said Elliot. "This is what I want you to do. Have the Parry Sound detachment dispatch two control cars right away. Give them your monitoring frequencies and tell the controllers to take her into custody A.S.A.P. Anyone else they find with her, putting up resistance, have them arrested also for harboring a fugitive. Do you copy?"

"I hear you loud and clear."

"Call me back when the mission has been accomplished," demanded Elliot.

"Yes Sir," said Rick.

It was ten o'clock at night when Steven noticed the car headlights coming up the drive. Two sets. "Who could that be?" he said. "There is no way anyone can miss the 'private road' sign at the entrance to this property. I'd better go see."

Walking out to the front porch Steven was met by the controllers, weapons drawn.

"You have a Crehu here named Shelly 1346M20. She is under arrest. Stand aside and let us through."

"Under arrest for what?" Steven demanded to know.

"Are you putting up resistance Sir?" questioned a controller with a quivering trigger finger.

"Do you realize who you are talking too Mister?" said Steven.

One of the controllers shined his light on Steven's face.

"I'm Steven Laurence, former External Prime Minister. What's this all about?"

"We've been dispatched to arrest the female Crehu known as Shelly 1346M20 for being A.W.O.L. from her job. The monitoring center traced her to this building."

"You gentlemen better step inside while we sort this mess out. And you can holster those firearms. You won't need them in here. I'll get to the bottom of this in a damn hurry. You can be sure of that," Steven promised. "Shelly. Come here for a moment please. There are some controllers who wish to speak to you."

"Everyone stay in this room and keep out of sight. We don't want the controllers to see us," Jack whispered to the others.

"Why not?" asked Bruce.

"Ever since one of their members was sent to an Artic prison compound, a direct result of my media reporting, I've been on their shit list. Trust me. It will be better for everyone all around if they don't know we're here."

Shelly left the living room and went out to the kitchen to see the controllers and Steven standing in a huddle.

"Shelly 1346M20?"

"Yes."

"You are under arrest for job desertion," said the controller in charge.

"Just one bloody moment!" shouted Steven. "Shelly? What's going on? I arranged for you to receive this weekend off."

Shelly told Steven and the controllers what had happened. She was filled with quivering apprehension as she spoke.

"I wish you had told me this earlier," said Steven. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine. Gentlemen I must make a quick call. It will only take a minute," guaranteed Steven.

Steven grabbed the phone and selected the private number for Mr. Leonard Jamling, Minister for Health, Welfare and Employment.

"Hello?"

"Is this you Leonard?"

"Yes. Who's this?"

"It's Steven Laurence."

"Steven. What in blazes are you doing calling at this government forsaken hour?"

"We've got ourselves a problem here. Remember the woman Shelly I told you about? You arranged for her to get this weekend off?"

"Yes. What about it?"

"Apparently the night supervisor revoked it and told her she had to work. Without even checking into why she was given it off. What a jerk! Anyway.........She disregarded his ultimatum and came up to my cottage as planned. Well that meathead went and had her monitored. Now there is a group of controllers standing inside my cottage wanting to arrest her as being A.W.O.L. and take her away."

"That's bullshit," said Leonard. "Put the controller that is in charge on the end of the line."

"The Minister would like to speak with you controller," said Steven.

"Hello?" said the head controller.

"I'm Leonard Jamling, Minister of Health, Welfare and Employment. A mistake has been made. This lady has complete freedom to be where she is as authorized by me. Forget about the arrest order and go back to your center."

"I'm sorry Sir. I can't do that. Not without an okay from my control chief."

"What detachment are you from?"

"We are from Parry Sound."

"Sir," said Leonard, sternly.

"Parry Sound, Sir," he replied.

"What is your name controller?"

"Sir?" questioned the controller, showing definite signs of nervousness.

"How would you like to find yourself transferred to a government nursing home before week's end? Where you can expect to find yourself wiping shit from people's asses for the rest of your damn duration," continued the Minister.

After an excruciating moment of silence the controller answered. "We shall be leaving right away Sir. I'm sorry Minister. I was only following orders Sir."

"Put Mr. Laurence back on the line and when I'm finished talking to him I hope for your sake you are long gone."

"Yes Sir, right away Sir. Mr. Laurence Sir. It's for you Sir. Sorry to have troubled you Sir," said the humbled controller. "C'mon guys we're outta here. It was all a mistake and the woman is free. Sorry about the mix-up lady. On the double now guys.........MOVE IT!"

"Oh controller?" said Steven, to the man in charge. "I don't know what the Minister could have said to you that I didn't. But if I ever see either one of you here again you can be sure that you will regret it. Goodbye gentlemen. Close the door on your way out." Shelly breathed a welcome sigh of relief right after they departed.

"Thanks Leonard. They left here like frightened rabbits. What did you say to that controller?" asked Steven.

Leonard laughed.

"I told him he'd find himself in a very undesirable job before the end of the week if he didn't hi-tail it pronto. I'll ring up his detachment officer and explain the mistake. I'll have him phone the monitoring center and have them switch off Shelly's monitoring frequency. The monitoring center can call the morgue manager back to confirm my order," said Leonard.

"Could you possibly do me one more favor Leonard?" asked Steven.

"Sure thing," Leonard replied.

"I'd like you to phone up the morgue personally on Monday morning and tell them Shelly won't be coming in anymore. She has finished working there for good."

"What do you mean?" asked Leonard.

"She'll be staying here with me."

"She must be a very special lady."

"She is," said Steven.

"I'll phone up the morgue and tell them first thing. She will need a rank upgrade then."

"Yes, to an A with vehicle permit availability as well. I'm going to see she is taught how to drive. She will need to be licensed living up here."

"Sure thing," said Leonard. "I'll take care of it personally. We can skip the formality of a rank review and I'll see her new identity card gets out in the mail directly."

"Thanks a lot. We'll have her Downtown Toronto space vacated before the end of the month so it will be available for someone else. Now I should return to my guests. Take care and thanks again for everything Leonard."

"You too Steven and you're very welcome."

Shelly, who had been listening hanging off every word, could not believe what she had just heard.

"You don't mind not going back to that job of yours?" Steven asked, smiling.

"No." Shelly answered.

"And you don't mind coming here and living with me?"

"No," said Shelly, with tears of joy rolling down her cheeks.

"Oh Steven," she called out, running to hug him.

"I'm so happy," she sobbed.

Shelly wasn't the only one crying. Dorrissa and Becka who, after the controllers left, had been watching and listening from a distance in awe, joined Shelly in blubbering harmony. As Jack looked on he felt pride in the fact that he had brought Steven and Shelly together. Although Bruce was happy for them also, he was reminded of the asinine law that kept him and Becka apart.

"Do you like dogs, Honey?" Steven asked Shelly later.

"You know I do," she replied.

"I was thinking we could go out and get your things one day next week and then continue down to Buffalo and pick us out a puppy. Maybe we'll get two. They have many breeds to choose from there. Of course they'll have to be placed in quarantine for the required time before we can bring them back home," said Steven.

"Home," said Shelly. "What a wonderful word."

The rest of that summer saw much association between Steven and Shelly, Jack and Dorrissa, and Bruce and Becka. Weekends and summer vacations were all spent at Steven's cottage. He had gotten the power reconnected to the abandoned fishing lodge and the girls had turned it into a cozy guest house.

Dorrissa and Becka had met twice with Susan and Alice at The House on the Hill in Bradford for dinner. Dorrissa asked Susan how everyone from the Support Group was doing. Susan said she kept in touch with them by phone and all had done as Dorrissa asked. They had not met in groups or discussed anything controversial on the phone that could implicate them in any way to Family Support Groups. She thanked Dorrissa and told her that her friend had been right. Wendy was being monitored and had been placed under surveillance. When the government finally determined she was not involved in anything illegal they informed her that she had been under their watch. Her friend from Guelph had indeed broken under pressure and given them Wendy's name.

A chill ran down Dorrissa's back when she heard this and Becka wanted to leave the restaurant right away. Dorrissa assured her that they were doing nothing wrong and everything would be fine. At the end of dinner they each hugged goodbye and left.

No one heard any news about Sloan over the summer but in that case, no news was good news. Kevin did express concern however, when talking to Dorrissa one day, that the last few transfers of new teachmasters to the Wycliffe Rearing Center all had negative ratings and were on probation. And Tim, Sloan's former teachmaster, did meet his nemesis. He was most emphatically sentenced to Artic imprisonment.

It had also been reported that Mr. Trandlore, the former Interior Prime Minister, was now out of the country and living somewhere in Arizona. It was rumored his health had taken a turn for the worse and he needed the dry climate that the state provided.

By the end of the summer the tiny cells that Dorrissa had matched were almost full grown fetuses and would soon be ready to emerge from their artificial wombs. Dorrissa did not get her wish though. Both of her and Jack's offspring had developed into males. For that matter, so did Bruce and Becka's. On the other hand, all three of Susan's grand progeny were females. Dr. Foxing's son's samples, which had been paired with Ava and Shelly, both devolved into one each, male and female. Charles Jacobstown's son's produced three males and one female. Unfortunately he passed away during the summer and would never have the opportunity to know.

The Crehus developed from the Support Group members were a mixture of males and females. Dorrissa had played her little game with everyone on a beautiful summer day at Steven's cottage. She even managed to get Jack's involvement this time. Bruce and Becka had agreed on Donna and Jessica for girls, and Alan and Eric for boys. Steven and Shelly picked Margaret, Ruthann, Herbert and Gordon. Margaret and Herbert had both been picked because they were the names of Steven's parents.

Dorrissa and Jack both agreed on Jacqueline, Jaylene, and Gregory. However on a second boy's name they differed. Dorrissa wanted Jack Jr. But he liked the name Warren. Jack laughed and said that as long as it was pretend he'd let her have her choice. After all it wasn't like he'd be hearing it day in and day out. But he really didn't like the idea of having a junior. He believed no child should be burdened by having to go through life trying to live up to their father's name. Or live it down, whichever the case may be. Jack believed new lives required new names, straight and forward.

Dorrissa, not one to do things second rate, had even managed to play the game with Dr. Foxing and Ava. At an annual checkup during the summertime she had coaxed names from them both. Now knowing everyone's name preferences, and the sex of the babies, she had prepared a list and was counting down the days until it could be utilized. The 17th of October would be nine months to the day. They would be delivered into the world on Monday October 27, 2150, Dorrissa decided. With an extra week in the womb added for good measure, and October 24th being a Friday, she moved the date of delivery to the following Monday so she would have a full week to make sure that there were no complications with any of the newborn Crehus. They would all share a common birthday. On Sunday October 26, while Jack was reading, and Becka was out with Bruce, Dorrissa went over her list one last time.

Crehu Names of Newborns Actual Birthing Date Monday, October 27, 2150.

# 1. Ken & Betty (Jack & Dorrissa) \----Male \----Gregory

# 2. David & Jaqueline (Jack & Dorrissa) \----Male \----Warren

# 3. Howard & Meg \----Female \----Lisa

# 4. Howard & Meg \----Male \----Derrick

# 5. Tim & Elaine \----Female \----Sheryl

# 6. Tim & Elaine \----Female \----Ingrid

# 7. Ryan & Wendy \----Male \----Douglas

# 8. Ryan & Dolly \----Female \----Maddy

# 9. Paul & Hope \----Female \----Sarah

# 10. George & Dolly \----Female \----Jacqueline

# 11. Bruce & Becka \----Male \----Alan

# 12. Bruce & Becka \----Male \----Eric

# 13. Jason & Alice \----Female \----Allison

# 14. Jason & Rhonda \----Female \----Marie

# 15. Philip & Eloise \----Female \----Linda

# 16. Philip & Eloise \----Male \----Jason

# 17. Rodney & Monica \----Male \----James

# 18. Rodney & Monica \----Male \----Benjamin

# 19. Alex & Ava \----Female \----Alana

# 20. Alex & Ava \----Male \----Thomas

# 21. Matthew & Shelly \----Male \----Herbert

# 22. Matthew & Shelly \----Female \----Margaret

# 23. Brian & Sophia \----Female \----Vivian

Dorrissa had decided to name both her and Jack's children Gregory and Warren after giving much thought to Jack's request about all individuals having their own unique name. They were, after all, both his sons. Perhaps she would have a granddaughter one day she fantasized. All twenty three Crehus would be classified second generation. Although the girls, Becka, Ava, Rhonda, Monica and Eloise, were second generation Crehus, the partners that Dorrissa had matched them to were all first generation. Because of this their matches could rightly be deemed second generation also. Dorrissa knew she had to research the computer to find the proper number sequence that would follow their given names. An existing government program made that a fast search. All she had to do was type in their name, followed by the number two, and the proper sequential number that was next in line would pop up onto the screen followed by the letter T and number 58.

On Monday October 27, 2150, Dorrissa arrived for work bright and early.

"Gail," she called. "Could you come into my office please?"

"You're here early," commented Gail.

"Yes. It's time to give birth to my babies," Dorrissa joked.

"Your babies?" repeated Gail, in puzzled uncertainty.

"That's right, all twenty-three of them. It's been nine months since I created them in the birthing lab and now they're ripe for the picking."

"I thought you were just joking about that," said Gail.

"No way. I started this project and now I have to finish it. It's all part of maintaining hands on, job awareness, right? We can't properly run this department if we don't keep up with the experience that's needed, if ever we had to jump in and take control of an emergency in any of its operations, can we?" asked Dorrissa.

"You're serious?" asked Gail.

"You bet I am. I've told you this before. That was nine months ago. Perhaps it slipped your mind. Now it's time to finish the job. Next week it will be your turn to dive in and give birth to your little batch of Crehus."

"You are serious," said Gail.

"And when am I not? I've also decided to have both your batch and mine be documented as separate study groups. You matched your cells along with their statistical files in the lab before you implemented the creative process as did I. Now, as they grow up, we shall have the rearing center monitor the similarities and differences between the two groups. I shall have Kevin keep weekly stats on both groups and use the information to help determine the match of cell samples we choose here at Wycliffe in the future."

"But you picked your cells directly from the cell repository. I was only able to choose from what we had on hand," complained Gail.

"That's right. But remember Gail. There are no winners or losers here. No first and second prizes. Just a scientific experiment that's all. It should make for a good study considering the differences, don't you think? I even have names picked out for all of mine so I can watch their progress, or lack of it, as they develop individually."

"Names? Isn't that going a little overboard? It's always been customary for the birthing lab workers to pick out the names of new Crehus," said Gail.

"I created them, I'll name them. Do you think I want to have them know as Augustus or Simplicity or some other foolish name while I'm referring to this study? I thought you could do the same. Unless of course you want to be referring to them by other people's, perhaps horrid, taste in names. In a sense you are their mother aren't you? You created them, you can name them."

"But I don't have any names," Gail replied.

"How many Crehus did you match up?" asked Dorrissa.

"I made an even two dozen. One more than you."

"See. Only a mother could recall the size of her brood. You've got a whole week to pick out names."

"Gee. Thanks boss," said Gail, impassively.

"Think of it this way Gail. When I'm gone, in all likelihood you'll be running the show. Both these groups of Crehus, for the most part, will have the same teachmasters. Grow up in the same environment. The only difference being the gene pool from which they were derived. The studies done on these two groups will be of benefit to you in the long run. You'll see."

"Anything else?" asked Gail.

"No. Just keep an eye on the front, thanks. I have some heavy labor to take care of."

"Sure thing. You're welcome," said Gail.

The real reason Dorrissa had come up with the idea of compiling statistics was not to study characteristics per se but to give her an alibi to be around the children, her children, and watch them grow and develop. Her rank and position gave Dorrissa complete access to children both in the birthing lab and child rearing area not only at Wycliffe but in other centers as well. However, she very seldom made use of that access as far as the child rearing area was concerned. Now she had a legitimate excuse to visit there without casting suspicion upon herself she hoped.

When it came to visiting the Eastern Cell Repository though, Dorrissa had most definitely been skirting her authority. She had been lucky. Twice. But now she would have to be very careful. Even with what she believed were valid reasons, it was highly unorthodox for a birthing lab superintendent to make the number of trips back and forth to the same child rearing center that she wanted to make.

She would love to go every day but that would prove too risky. She would have to pare her visits down to no more than twice a week. Even that would be like standing on the edge of a slippery slope. Keeping records by use of statistical charts would help mask the real reason for her being there.

"Good morning team. Good morning Cliff. How is everyone today?" said Dorrissa, upbeat and smiling as she entered the birthing lab. "It's time we brought these little C.C's into the world.

"C.C's?" Cliff echoed, in wonder.

"Crehu Critters," Dorrissa chuckled.

"Cliff. I've written a list of names that we shall call them so that we can speed things up here. I still have to do a search for their appropriate call numbers though but that won't take long. I need you and your team to prepare and sterilize the instruments. Make sure the bassinets and blankets are all ready."

"Yes Superintendent," said Cliff.

Within twenty minutes Dorrissa had their new call numbers. A 'T' followed the number on their individual name chart files along with a 58 to designate their year of birth. One by one they emerged from the life sustaining cocoons, as Dorrissa called them. Their little legs were banded with their new name. Once wrapped and tucked, they were quickly transported to the newborn section of the birthing lab. It would be a week or so before they would be transferred to the child rearing center.

Dorrissa found it so very hard to turn over Gregory and Warren to the lab attendants after holding their tiny bodies in her arms. But to hold them longer than the others, even for a few minutes, would arouse a warranted suspicion that was definitely not wanted. She had taken great precautions by switching her and Jack's names at the repository so no one would know that these children were theirs. She had to keep up the pretense.

The shortage of time Dorrissa had available, before creation, had not afforded her those same precautions with Becka and Bruce's samples. Knowing that Gail knew Becka was Jack's secretary, and with her also having met Bruce on his Wycliffe tour, Dorrissa had wisely switched someone else's files with theirs. She had made the switch earlier with different ones of the most similar characteristics that she could find on hand in her birthing lab. Unfortunately they were four people with very different characteristics. If Bruce and Becka's two siblings looked anything alike it would be tricky to cover their similarities up. To the trained eye, all Crehu infants look different.

That same problem presented itself with her and Jack's offspring to a lesser extent. At least she had the wider selection to garner similar like files for her and Jack's cell samples even though, remembering back, her time had been limited and quite hectic at the repository as well. D.N.A. testing would prove deadly hazardous to Dorrissa's plans. That had to be averted at all costs. After switching phony files for Bruce and Becka she had removed their real ones, along with the four other peoples cell samples, and took them home where they were destroyed. Dorrissa hated to destroy living cells but when the yearly inventory came around, if things did not match up evenly, the government would conduct an internal audit. That was another thing that had to be avoided at all costs.

There was only one major snag so far that Dorrissa could think of. The cell repository had a record of her cell shipments. Bruce and Becka's names would be on that list. There was nothing she could do about that. She had thought at the time of returning the switched cell samples from the second batch she received, along with Bruce and Becka's files, to have their names scrubbed from the list. But she couldn't do that. It might remind them she received both of their samples. Not to mention it was her who had gone there and picked them out in the first place. And the stringent samples she was receiving from Jane and Rachel, after showing them what she wanted, were so good they did not qualify for a return shipment. All Dorrissa could do was hope for the best and not rock the boat. To be found out at this late stage would be mortifying.

As far as the other hereditary donors for her Crehu children were concerned, Dorrissa had lots more time to compare their samples on her second visit with fabricated donors at the cell repository and the matches that she had made to take into account their supposed ruined first cell samples were very close indeed.

It was well onto nine o'clock at night before all the births were successfully completed. The afternoon shift had been happy to put in the overtime working alongside their superintendent. The night crew from the child rearing center would take over. The workers in the child rearing center worked twenty-four hours round the clock at Wycliffe. It was their job to look after the young, newly-born Crehus. In a week they would be moved from the birthing lab providing no complications developed. Dorrissa was one mighty tired lady, but the rush of adrenalin shooting through her veins was more than enough compensation for her. Previously, Jack was told she would be late because she had to supervise an internal inventory. A little white lie could not hurt anyone. It was almost eleven before she dragged her aching bones across her threshold.

"Hey. I almost gave up on you," Jack said with a grin.

Dorrissa made her way to a chair and virtually collapsed from exhaustion into its plushy pile.

"Jeepers creepers, you look beat. Are you all right?" asked Jack, this time quite concerned.

"I've had a rough day. It's all been so time consuming, so tiresome. But I'll be fine."

"Can I get you anything?"

"Yes. A white knight in shining armor to whisk me away to a perfumed boudoir and administer a full body massage to my aching limbs."

Jack got up, crossed the room, and scooped Dorrissa up in his slender but powerful arms and said with a smile, "You just missed out. I took my armor off fifteen minutes ago," as he carried her off to their bedroom.

Steven and Shelly were planning on going to Buffalo on Friday October 31st to pick out a new puppy. Their busy summer schedule had prevented them from doing it earlier. That all changed with a phone call on the Wednesday afternoon.

"Yes, I'm looking for a Steven Laurence please," said the voice on the other end of the line.

"Steven," called Shelly. "Phone call, it's for you."

"Hello?" said Steven.

"Steven Laurence?"

"In the flesh."

"My name is Willis. You don't know me but I'm calling on behalf of Mr. Q. Raymond Trandlore."

"What's he gone and done now?"

"He's gone and died, Mr. Laurence. I'm afraid Ray passed away late last night."

After a brief pause, Steven answered sadly, "I'm truly sorry. I heard that he hadn't been well."

"Ray suffered on and off with bouts of chronic bronchitis. That's the reason he moved to Arizona. The official cause of death was listed as fibrous pleurisy with bronchial complications. He had just entered his seventy-sixth year shortly before the start of summer."

"Yes I know."

"Ray asked me long ago to call and inform you if anything happened to him. He said he had known you for a very long time."

"Pretty near fifty years. A lifetime," recalled Steven. He blinked back tears as some of their more memorable moments shared together whirled about inside his head.

"He thought very highly of you Mr. Laurence. He said you were a political wiz."

"Is there going to be a funeral service?" asked Steven, cutting to the chase. He really didn't want to hear any plaudits from a stranger.

"Yes there will be. That's why I'm calling. Mr. Trandlore had always fashioned himself to be a very private man. He abhorred pomp and ceremony."

"I'm well aware of that."

"We shall be holding a small private service here in Arizona. I phoned you because you were on a short list of people to call. Of course you are not required to come. It is a long way from Canada," said Willis.

"I'll be there," promised Steven.

"Pardon Sir?" said Willis, rather stunned.

"I said I'll be there. When is the funeral?"

"Two o'clock Saturday afternoon."

"Give me the directions. I'll write them down now."

After taking the information, Steven thanked Willis for calling and hung up.

"Ray Trandlore died last night," Steven said to Shelly.

"Well I dare say he won't be missed."

"I'm sure there will be a lot of people who express the same sentiments," said Steven. "The funeral service is on Saturday."

"They don't have funerals in Canada," Shelly said in surprise.

"It's not in Canada. It's in the United States, in Arizona."

"And you're going, I can tell."

"Yes I am. I was hoping you'd come with me."

"Steven. I don't want you to think badly of me but I wouldn't really feel comfortable going to that man's funeral. I still hold bad feelings for him because of what happened to someone I loved, so very much, so long ago. I've never been to a funeral either. I don't know anyone that has," said Shelly.

"I have, many years ago. I attended my grandparent's funerals. They were not far apart. My own parents passed away after ordinary funerals had been termed wasteful and banned by the government. They were cremated, as is everyone nowadays," replied Steven.

"It must have been nice to have known a family. What were funerals like?" asked Shelly.

"People would gather at a big building, a funeral parlor they called it, where family and friends would say goodbye and pay their last respects to the deceased. The body of the loved one would be resting in a beautiful wooden casket, coffin being another name. The lid would be off and you could view the body at rest. A mortician, or undertaker as some people called them because they took your body and buried it under the ground, would prepare the body for burial. Bodily fluids would be drained and replaced with a preservative which they called embalming fluid. This had to be done to prevent the terrible smell of decay until the body could be buried. The undertaker would clothe the body and apply makeup, trying to make it look as presentable as they could.

"A funeral service would take place usually with a religious theme conducted by a minister of that particular person's faith. Pleasant stories of the deceased called eulogies would be told, religious hymns were sung, and prayers were said to celebrate the person's life on earth and mark the passing of it.

"After the service the casket, which had been closed prior to the service, would be carried out to a waiting vehicle called a hearse by a group of special loved ones called pall bearers. People would climb into their vehicles, turn their lights on as a sign of respect, and slowly follow the hearse to a cemetery for a graveyard goodbye and then watch as the casket was lowered into the ground. Then the people would leave the cemetery and congregate at some place and have a reception. That was like a sort of party with food and drink in honor of the deceased and the life that they had lived. The life that you had shared with them."

"That sounds so beautiful," said Shelly. "Why did they stop that practice?"

"Well. There were no more families anymore for one thing. The government deemed it a land waste which was too valuable for another," replied Steven.

"But I've never seen any graveyards. Not anywhere."

"That's because the government that was in power at the time, long before Ray and I took hold of the reins, had ordered them all dug up. They exhumed the bodies, pilfered the contents and incinerated the remains, which they said supplied enough power to service the city for more than a month."

"Pilfered the contents?" asked Shelly.

"Yes. They took any valuable objects that might have been buried with people such as rings, watches, other types of jewelry, money, whatever. The government said that since they owned everything, they owned those too. It would all go into the government coffers to help pay the costs of exhumation," said Steven.

"That's disgusting."

"A lot of us felt that way but there was nothing we could do. The government turned the cemeteries into living spaces, factories, and small parketts. They kept saying the land was too valuable to sit idle. Ever since then everyone has been cremated. The energy their burning bodies create is turned into power to offset utility costs. The government has it down to a science now. They incinerate garbage in state of the art blast furnaces and bodies in crematoriums while combining the power from both to help run the city."

"Is you friend going to be cremated?" wondered Shelly.

"I'm not sure. I didn't ask."

That evening Steven phoned Jack with the news of Ray's death.

"How come we haven't heard anything on the media screen about it?" wondered Jack.

"Willis said that it would be announced in the morning. He was waiting to notify all the people on Ray's list, a short list he had called it, before he would inform the government. The reason I called, Jack, is because I am going to the funeral service in Arizona. It's on Saturday. Shelly doesn't want to go and I am a little leery of leaving her here all alone. I was wondering if she could stay with you and Dorrissa until I get back."

"Sure. We'd be glad to have her. You guys are the closest thing to family that we'll ever see," replied Jack.

"What a nice thing to say. Thanks Jack. That means a lot."

"Say. I was wondering Steve. Would you like some company?"

"What do you mean?"

"I remember that talk I had with Mr. Trandlore...err...Ray I mean, about when he was a kid and all. I don't know. Something about it touched me. Down deep, if you know what I mean," said Jack.

"I do. I do know what you mean. I can't say I've ever spoken to anyone else that felt that way though. I'd be delighted to have you accompany me on the trip. I'm going to book air passage on Friday so we can get there the night before. I'll book for two," said Steven.

"Okay. I'll go into work tomorrow and put in for a days vacation for Friday. You and Shelly should come for dinner on Thursday and spend the night."

"Sounds like a plan to me. We'll see you then Jack and don't forget to bring as much extra cash as you can spare for you know what? Say hi to Dorrissa for me."

"And say hi to Shelly for me."

When Jack arrived for work the next morning the news of Ray Trandlore's death was all over the building. There wasn't a wet eye in the house. Jack was glad that he was not a politician. After selecting the Friday off, casually mentioning why it was needed, his reason spread through the office like a whirlwind. People scoffed and jeered and asked why he wasn't dressed in black if he was in mourning. He couldn't wait for his day to end. Only Mr. Smithington and Becka showed him an understanding decency.

Over dinner that night, Dorrissa and Shelly made plans for the weekend. Excited like a couple of schoolgirls, they giggled and tittered back and forth.

"Girl's weekend out, girl's weekend out," they both chanted and laughed impishly.

Steven and Jack would not be back until late Sunday afternoon.

"Becka," said Dorrissa. "Call Bruce and tell him you're busy this weekend. We can make it a threesome."

Jack rolled his eyes at Steven knowingly.

"If you ladies will excuse us we're going to stretch our legs," said Jack, getting up, closely followed by Steven.

"I really love this identity card," said Shelly, fingering it in such a way as to reflect light on the A.

"Oh my goodness, you are a fine upstanding citizen like me now," said Dorrissa, eyes wide with the flat of her hand covering her open mouth as if to portray shock.

"Okay girls. Don't rub it in or I'm leaving," Becka said in her best pouting persona.

Jack and Steven took a walk outside in the backyard.

"Have you ever smoked a joint before?" asked Jack.

"Back in my youth I did. We all tried it then. But then we grew up," replied Steven. "I didn't take you for a pot smoker."

"I like it occasionally. Sometimes it can smooth out your day. Take the rough edge off so to speak. Care to indulge?" asked Jack, pulling a number from his pocket.

"It's not really my cup of tea," said Steven smiling. "Does Dorrissa know you smoke marijuana?" asked Steven, as Jack lit the joint.

"Sometimes she joins me."

"Interesting," replied Steven.

"I've never been to a funeral before," said Jack, taking a hit.

"I was frankly surprised when you told me you wanted to come."

"Here," said Jack, "try a toke."

Steven took the joint and held it in his hand. He inhaled deeply and held the smoke in his lungs. Then, almost instantly, he coughed it out. "That's nasty," he said, between intermittent hacking.

Jack laughed. "You're just not used to it."

Steven took a few more tokes before the joint burnt out and they sat down on an outside picnic table.

"You know, deep down, Ray was a very sensitive man. It was an emotion he rarely exhibited. I can see why he opened up to you though Jack," said Steven.

"Why?" Jack asked.

"Because you are sensitive also."

"He told me he hated his parents," said Jack.

"He did, in his own way. But he only told you part of the story."

"What do you mean?"

"Ray's parents broke up when he was quite young. He hated his parents for that reason. He always wondered what his life would have been like if that hadn't happened. Sure he became the Prime Minister. But he always knew something was missing. He never partnered. He was never to be found in the company of a woman. He never received love but at the same time I think he was incapable of giving it.

"Because of his age he had to live with his mother and barely saw his dad. They gradually grew more and more apart until they were completely estranged. Ray's father was strict with him and did not suffer fools lightly. His mother, on the other hand, doted on him, waiting on him hand and foot. Knowing he could always get his way with his mother he stopped going on visits to his father's house.

"Somewhere along the way Ray forgot how much his father really loved him. It wasn't until he was much older and his father was dying that he was reminded of that love."

"What happened?" asked Jack, completely mesmerized by the story.

"Ray went to see his father in the hospital just before he died. He asked his father why he had left. He had never known and had never asked him before."

"What did his father say?" asked Jack, brimming with emotion.

"His father told him that he loved Ray's mother very much. He never stopped loving her. He said how could he not love the mother of his children? But something had happened that changed the way she felt about him. A few years before Ray's parents began having problems his mother developed thyroid problems. Her thyroid gland stopped functioning. It was not diagnosed properly at first and she had been very close to dying by the time it was caught. Daily medication helped correct the problem but a change in her personality had developed and Ray's father believed it was the dysfunctional thyroid that was the cause.

"His father told Ray that one day, while lying in bed with his mother, he proceeded to make love to her. She pushed him away and told him she didn't think she loved him anymore. Ray's father said the jolt he felt was like he had driven full speed into a brick wall. It hurt him deeply. But he was a proud man and he refused to show it. He never again made advances to her after that happened. Not ever. He said not a day went by that he didn't pray she would say sorry she had made a mistake and that she did love him very much. But she was a proud woman and she never did.

"When you lose physical love in a relationship, his father said, it is not long before it starts to falter. Communication between two people becomes next to impossible. The friction between them becomes too great to subside. After a long time, a number of months sharing the same bed, Ray's mother moved into the spare room. They eventually split up and went their own way.

"Ray's father told him that if only he could go back in time he would have tried to oust his pride and make an attempt to talk out their problems. But he had been sucker punched as he called it. Lying naked in bed, beside the one woman in the whole world he loved with all his heart and wanted to make love to, the mother of his children, baring his soul to her, vulnerable, all defenses nonexistent, and being ultimately rejected in such a way. His stubborn manly pride wouldn't let him forget.

"His father also told him that Ray's grandmother, Ray's mother's mother, had once told her daughter that the secret to a successful relationship was never to take your problems to bed with you. Never say, mean or do anything that could hurt your partner when you are between the sheets with them, especially when involved in love making. Ray's father had always wished Ray's mother had heeded that advice," said Steven.

"Did he say anything else?" wondered Jack.

"He told Ray that he had always loved him. That over the years he had missed him dearly. Ray's father always believed he would have a happy marriage and watch his boys grow up and prosper. He believed that he would always have a close father-son relationship with them and the love within their family could never be suppressed and would remain indivisible. That some day he and their mother would watch with joy as their grandchildren grew. He also said part of him had died when Ray's older brother was killed."

"But the Rod shot," said Jack. "They couldn't have grandchildren."

"That's just what Ray's father thought at the time. His parents split up before the Rod shot was even contemplated. Well. Maybe it had been contemplated. Who's to say?"

"Did Ray ever make up with his dad?"

"It's funny you asked that. I asked him the same question. Ray told me he did but he regretted very much it was not until his father was on his deathbed. All the years that had been wasted as a result of them being apart weighed heavily on Ray's conscience and troubled him deeply until his dying day I believe. His father had apologized to Ray for being so strict sometimes and had explained that it was because his own father had raised him in similar fashion. His father told him he was strict because he loved him deeply and wanted him to grow up to be a fine example of a first rate citizen.

"He reminded Ray that his birth had been planned and that he was indeed wanted. His arrival had not only been clearly welcomed but thoroughly celebrated. From his deathbed he told Ray that he loved him just as much as the day he was born and told him not to worry or feel bad about all those wasted years. That it was an unfortunate set of circumstances that had snowballed out of control."

"Wow. That's a really sad story," said Jack, immobilized in thought.

"Yes it is. I can't believe I've just said all I said."

"That happens sometime when you get high," volunteered Jack. "I feel like some munchies," he added.

"Jack...Steven...What are you guys doing?" called Dorrissa, from the balcony.

"We're on our way in," yelled Jack.

"It's time for dessert," hollered Shelly and Becka.

"Perfect," said Jack, under his breath, looking over at Steven and smiling.

Next morning Dorrissa drove to work, Becka got a ride with a co-worker, and Shelly went to the airport to see Steven and Jack off. She would spend the day in Toronto, maybe do some boundless browsing, and meet Dorrissa back at the train station at five o'clock. Steven did not want her going to the city by herself but Shelly pooh-poohed his concern. Surely a grown woman in her thirty-eighth year could fend for herself, she had said.

Shortly after takeoff, Jack, in obvious disgust said, "Crap. I forgot to switch some of my Canadian money for American at the airport currency exchange desk. And this isn't going to be any good to me," he said, pointing to his identity card.

"Didn't you open up an American account when you purchased that lot in Florida?" asked Steven.

"Yes I did. Why?"

"Then first thing on arrival, we'll go to the bank and get you one of these," said Steven, opening his wallet.

"American Express?" questioned Jack.

"I never leave home without it."

Back in Toronto, Shelly decided to drop by Morgue # 8 and pay the old gang a visit. Charlie was on the front desk.

"Holy Government, what are you doing here?" Charlie could not have been more surprised as she walked through the front door.

"I came down to the city to do some shopping at Peoples and thought I'd pop in and say hi."

"After what happened to Elliot? You're not welcome around here." He reflected for a moment on her new rank. "You and your new identity card should best be going before he shows up," warned Charlie. "He's always dropping by."

"What happened to Elliot?" asked Shelly.

"As if you didn't know."

"Honest. I don't."

"He lost his management position. He also received a double negative rank, got put on probation, was given a major reduction in salary and has been transferred and relegated to cleaning out incinerators. You certainly waylaid him let me tell you."

"I did no such thing," maintained Shelly, in defiance.

"Why didn't you tell him you were invited to Steven Laurence's for that weekend?"

"It was none of his business."

"Shit. That's him, crossing the street now. He hangs around here when he's not working. Quick...You'd better leave by the side exit. Now!" said Charlie.

Shelly hurried out the side door that led to the alleyway.

"Where is the bitch?" said Elliot, fuming as he entered the morgue.

"Where is who?" asked Charlie.

"Don't bullshit me," ordered Elliot, grabbing Charlie around the throat in a very threatening manner. "I saw her through the window and I can still smell her. I'll ask you just one more time," threatened Elliot, as he slammed Charlie's head into the wall. "Where is she?"

"She went to Peoples to do some shopping."

"Great. See ya later," said Elliot, letting go.

"Don't do anything rash," shouted Charlie, as Elliot left the building.

On her way to Peoples, Shelly had an inner sense that someone was following her. Stopping and turning to glance over her shoulder she saw that Elliot was close behind. Frantically she ran inside the closest building, a personal space containment complex, for refuge. Hitting various buttons for someone to help her by opening the entrance door, Shelly screamed for help. "Help me please...I'm being followed...Call the controllers...My life is in danger...Help...Let me in!"

With the clicking of the latch, Shelly frantically grabbed the door and swung it open to rush inside. But not before Elliot grabbed hold of her arm.

"Bitch! You ruined my life and now you are going to pay," said Elliot, pulling a knife from his pocket.

"No, no...Please no..." cried Shelly, pleading for her life.

A grim psychotic smile began to take shape on Elliot's lips which then turned into a maniacal laugh.

"No, no, please, spare me," mimicked Elliot, gruesomely. Now laughing hysterically and slashing the air with his knife, Elliot said, "I'd love to see the looks on everyone's face down at number eight when they bring you in to cook you."

Thinking fast, Shelly swung her purse with all her might striking Elliot a hard blow to his face. The impact took him by surprise and the knife flew to the floor. Shelly ran screaming through the hall of the building as Elliot, regaining his focus, followed in pursuit. Making her way to the stairwell she quickly flung off her shoes and climbed aggressively for her life. Elliot, a rather stout man, sputtered and floundered after her. Upon reaching the fifth floor Shelly raced down the hallway screaming continually for help. All personal space doors remained closed. No one responded to her cries of despair. At the hallway's end she turned to see Elliot not far behind. She bolted back downstairs to the lobby. Elliot, being heavier, came down faster than he went up and managed to grab Shelly before she made the front door. Slapping her face back and forth viciously he threw her to the floor. Striking her head, Shelly was rendered unconscious.

Seeing his knife lying over by the wall, Elliot retrieved it. Kneeling by Shelly's immobilized body he raised the knife above his head. Just then, two shots rang out shattering the front plate glass window and sending Elliot to a crumpled heap. He fell dead to one side. Shelly, still unconscious, was taken to Blake Central.

The plane Steven and Jack were on landed in Chicago for a ninety minute stopover. All passengers disembarked and Steven took Jack into the airport lounge for a drink while they waited.

"Mr. Laurence. How are you Sir?" asked the waiter.

"Fine Ron, and yourself?"

"Good Sir. What can I get for you gentlemen today?"

After the waiter left to get them a couple of beers, Jack asked, "Amazing. Does everybody know you?"

"Not everyone," laughed Steven. "You tend to meet a lot of people when you have traveled as much as I have. Being an External Prime Minister was a very busy job. And Ray always saw to it that I was kept busy. Being out of the country so much allowed him a tighter grip on control with the ability to pursue his own mandate. But in all fairness, there were many instances when world affairs necessitated my being there."

"Do you miss it at all?" asked Jack.

"Sometimes I do. The personal satisfaction of knowing you made a difference in world events, no matter how small, was always gratifying. Ruth came along on many of the trips which was also nice. But I must say, in all honesty, I am enjoying my retirement. The builders notified me last week that the home I purchased in Florida is nearing completion. Shelly is really excited to see it. Maybe more so than I," laughed Steven.

"You and Shelly have really gotten along swell."

"I can never thank you enough Jack. After Ruth left me I thought my life was over. Her death was a bitter pill to swallow. There was nothing to get up for in the morning anymore. Shelly has brought a new meaning into my life. I love her so much and I am so lucky to be blessed by her presence. I also believe that Ruth is my guardian angel, high above me, up in the universe. That she has guided me to this point in my life and given me her complete blessing for Shelly as a companion."

"I'm sure you're right Steve. Do you think Ray's up there somewhere too?"

"Now that's a stretch," declared Steven.

"Do you think anyone from the government will be at his funeral?" asked Jack.

"Not a chance. The Canadian government doesn't believe in funerals. The media would have a heyday if any of them turned up. I believe it will be a rather small affair."

After a sandwich and another beer, Steven and Jack boarded their flight once again and left for Arizona.

By six o'clock Friday evening Shelly had still not shown up. Dorrissa was in frenzy. She called home and spoke with Becka hoping that Shelly might have called. When Becka answered in the negative, with all kinds of wild and crazy thoughts running through her head, Dorrissa decided to call the controller's Toronto Headquarters to report Shelly missing.

When Shelly came to, a nurse was standing at her bedside. It was Sharon, Sloan's long ago one night stand.

"What happened? Where am I?" murmured Shelly.

"You're at Blake Central Hospital, Dear. You've had a nasty bump to the head and have been out cold for almost two hours. We were afraid that with a concussion you might slip into a coma," said Nurse Sharon.

"Oh my head hurts," groaned Shelly.

"That's a good sign Honey. It means you're still alive and back among the living. Do you know your name? Do you recall what happened to you?"

"My name is Shelly 1346A20. I remember a man chasing me. He had a knife."

"That's right. Two controllers came to your rescue. You don't have to worry about that man anymore."

"What time is it? I have to meet a friend?"

"Sorry. I'm afraid you will have to spend the night here Shelly. All head injuries as significant as yours must be monitored for twenty-four hours."

"I must call my friend," insisted Shelly, trying to get up.

"That's all been taken care of. Just relax and get some rest okay. I'll be back in one hour to check on you," said the nurse.

With that said, Sharon left. The authorities had done a search and found that Shelly resided up north with Steven Laurence. Repeated calls to his residence however had been unanswered. When Dorrissa phoned control headquarters and was given the information on Shelly she quickly called Becka and then took the train downtown to spend the night at Shelly's bedside. Next afternoon Shelly was discharged and Dorrissa took her home where Becka had been eagerly awaiting their arrival.

That same Saturday afternoon in Arizona was a gorgeous sunlit day. If not for the weather, Ray's funeral would have been a very gloomy, somber affair. Jack took a head count of the people at the funeral parlor. Including Steven and himself the total numbered nine. No one from the Canadian government had shown and the only people there were close personal friends. Steven did not know any of them.

"Mr. Laurence I presume," said a tall imposing figure. "I'm Willis Blarrister. I'm glad you could come."

"This is my friend..."

"Jack, right?" interrupted Willis. "I recognized you right away. You were not on Ray's list but I assure you he felt highly of you."

"It's a quaint, intimate gathering here today I take it," said Steven.

"It was a short list I'll admit," said Willis. "But everyone on it came. We even have one extra," he said, patting Jack on the back. "My father used to say that the only time he ever saw anyone was at weddings and funerals. If he was alive and living in Canada today I guess he would never see anyone," chuckled Willis.

"Yes. It's strange how the two countries, Canada and America, have evolved so differently," said Steven.

"Is Ray going to be cremated?" asked Jack.

"Heavens no. Ray didn't believe in cremation. Not personally anyway." Seeing the looks on both men's faces Willis explained. "There were many decisions Ray made in government that were completely opposite of his personal feelings because he believed it to be in the best interests of the country. No. Ray will be entombed in a crypt at a local mausoleum."

"Above ground?" enquired Steven, in surprise.

"Yes. That's how Ray wanted it. He said he was always above board in life so he joked that he should be above ground in death. And if I went against his wishes he would come back and haunt me he said."

"Ray did have a rather morbid sense of humor didn't he?" maintained Steven.

"At times," agreed Willis.

"Did you know him well?" asked Jack.

"Fairly well. We've been close friends for almost twenty-five years," answered Willis.

"Strange. I never ever heard him mention you," said Steven.

"Not so strange really. Ray was a very private man. He was also a very troubled man. Angry and troubled. A burning indignation, a personal bitter resentment buried deep within his soul, would manifest itself on occasion," said Willis.

"I've seen that in him also," acknowledged Steven.

"Just before Ray died, having been given strong sedatives to combat his pain, he was in a hallucinatory state of mind. He cried out, Dad forgive me. Please Dad, forgive me, and also, God forgive me," said Willis.

"God forgive me?" asked Jack, no more astonished than Steven had been.

"Oh yes. His exact words without a doubt," replied Willis. Ray believed in God. Personally if not professionally. When his father was dying many years ago...You might not have known but Ray and his father were separated from each other when Ray was a young boy."

"Yes we knew," replied Steven.

"Well anyway, many years later, Ray went to see his father in the hospital before he died. His father told him not to worry. That he would be in Heaven biding his time and waiting for him where they would be reunited and live happily ever after, never to be apart again. Near the end, that's all Ray could talk about. Wanting to be with his father," said Willis, rubbing the moisture from his eyes.

Steven and Jack looked at each other in awe after hearing this added version of Ray's father's story that neither had known. They both now felt, Steven in particular, that they knew Ray better. Looking back at Willis, Steven said, "May God bless him and may he rest in peace."

When Dorrissa arrived home with Shelly, Becka told her that Susan had called to ask them out for dinner at The House on the Hill. Susan was unaware that Shelly was spending the weekend. Becka, not knowing if she should say anything about what had happened to Shelly, said nothing. She would leave it up to Dorrissa to call her back. Becka had already phoned Bruce earlier to ask if it was okay with him if she spent the weekend with 'the girls'. That was fine with him. There were things that he could catch up on he told her.

When Dorrissa said she was phoning to decline Susan's invitation Shelly urged her to accept. She was feeling fine now and really wanted to meet Susan having heard so much about her. In the end they decided to meet Susan at The House on the Hill at six o'clock.

Susan and Alice, who was Susan's shadow, met Shelly, and all five women had a wonderful time together. When Shelly recounted the horrible event that had taken place the day before, they were all in agreement that she was very lucky to be alive. Shelly enjoyed herself so much that she invited both Susan and Alice to come up to Steven's cottage the following weekend. It was the second weekend of November and a holiday weekend to boot. It was officially called Season's End. It was the last holiday weekend before New Year's.

Susan and Alice remembered seeing Steven at Charles Jacobstown's New Year's Eve party the year before but neither of them had met him personally. Shelly gave Susan written directions to the cottage but Susan wasn't quite sure if she would attend. Dorrissa encouraged her to come. There was lots of room since the remodeled fishing lodge became available she said. The scenery alone was breathtaking. Becka and Bruce, along with Jack and herself, were going. She was sure that Steven would be delighted to meet both Susan and Alice.

Dorrissa had long been waiting to reveal the news about the Crehu infants she had created and had decided to do just that on the upcoming long weekend. It was only fitting that Susan be there also.

Upon Steven and Jack's arrival back from Arizona on Sunday, and after hearing what had happened to Shelly, Steven was at first furious and then later relieved. Both of them decided not to call the girls from Arizona as it was a 'girl's bonding weekend' and they had not wanted to bother them or seem clingy and over protective. Let them have fun, Steven had said. Now he wished he had phoned. Steven vowed that he would never go anywhere without Shelly again.

That evening they all had dinner together and Bruce had come to join them. Everyone was looking forward to the last long weekend of the extended summer season. When told of Susan and Alice's invitation, Steven proclaimed, "The more the merrier."

Chapter 11

The weather forecast for the November 8th weekend could not have been better. Warm sunny days combined with crisp clear nights. The scarcity of insect infestation would mean that Becka, above all, would be in her glory. Jack and Dorrissa, and Bruce and Becka, all arrived together just before seven o'clock. Susan and Alice were already there. They had decided to venture out after all. Dorrissa and Becka both ran into the house to greet them while Jack and Bruce gathered up the luggage. When Jack entered the cottage Susan took one look at him, exclaimed "Oh my God!", and fainted dead away.

"Quick. Bring me a wet cloth," ordered Steven, kneeling beside her.

Shelly ran to fetch it while Dorrissa was ranting that it was all her fault. She had not told Susan about Jack. Alice just sat there in stunned silence.

Cradling Susan's head in his knees, Steven proceeded to apply the cold compress to her forehead. Within minutes Susan came around.

"My God, we're being raided," gasped Susan, in a weak voice.

"No. It's okay Susan," said Dorrissa. "Jack is my partner. I should have told you. I didn't. I'm so sorry."

"He scared the living daylights out of me," said Alice.

"What's going on?" Jack said with great concern.

"I'm sorry Jack. I'm sorry everyone. It's a long story and I have much to tell. Are you alright Susan? I'm so sorry," Dorrissa repeated.

"I'll be fine. Someone please help me to a chair," said Susan.

When everyone was sitting down Dorrissa ventured a detailed explanation of all that had happened.

"Where do I begin?" asked Dorrissa.

"From the beginning," answered Jack.

"It all started last year," said Dorrissa. "Do you remember Jack? When I first had the foul up at the birthing lab regarding the mismatched cell samples?"

"Vaguely," Jack replied.

"I decided I wanted to go to the cell repository and make my own choice regarding cell samples for birthing."

"You went to the cell repository?" asked Bruce, clearly astonished.

"Yes I did."

"But that's unheard of. How the heck were you able to pull that off?" Bruce wanted to know.

"Let's just say, a mixture of womanly wiles and feminine persuasion," smiled Dorrissa.

"Oh I can believe that," Jack said knowingly.

"Don't interrupt. Let her finish," said Becka, enthralled yet enthused.

"As I was saying, I went to the cell repository to pick out my own samples because I wanted the Crehus emerging from my birthing lab to have the best characteristics possible. So I picked my own samples. Literally."

"What are you saying?" asked Jack, ashen-faced.

"I went through the names on the cell availability repository computer and I found out that both my cell samples were still on file.

"You didn't!" said Jack.

"Yours were there too Dear. Both of them," smiled Dorrissa.

By now you could hear a pin drop inside the room. And it was carpeted. If Jack had moved any closer to the edge of his chair his ass would have been on the floor.

"It was then a matter of switching names and files of other samples with ours. In order to smuggle them out so no one would know. That part was very hard and quite nerve-wracking."

"Where are the samples now?" asked Jack.

"Don't interrupt me, I'm not finished," said Dorrissa. "I didn't know what I would do so I hid the corresponding files, locked in my desk, so the samples would be safe and remain unmatched. Then Jack, with your new job, you started going away all the time to different cities. You'd be crisscrossing the country as the government media spokesperson against Family Support Groups."

"It's Family Survival Groups. What's with you and that word support anyway?"

"I remember that time very well," shuddered Susan.

"Jack? Do you remember last year's New Year's Eve party at Charles Jacobstown's house? You were there too Steven."

"Of course I remember. You dancing with another guy, that's what I remember," complained Jack.

"Oh, I'll bet I know who that was," said Susan.

Jack gave Susan a 'watch it lady' look.

"I remember that party," said Steven.

"That's where I met Susan again, after all those years apart. Not to forget her very dear friend and companion Alice, of course," said Dorrissa, looking over and smiling at Alice.

Alice smiled back.

"When you were gone on those trips I got together with Susan on a couple of occasions. I included Becka with me as well because Susan had been her teachmistress too and we both knew and admired her. We still do," smiled Dorrissa.

Susan returned her smile warmly.

"There were other people at Susan's house when we first visited. They were friends of hers also. Susan introduced us. It was later that evening when Becka and I found out that we were in the midst of a Family Support Group meeting."

"What?" Jack shouted loudly, nearly blowing his top. "How stupid can you be? You could have all been monitored. Damn it. I can't believe you Dorrissa," screamed Jack.

"Calm down Jack. Let her finish," said Steven.

"It's okay. We weren't monitored," said Dorrissa. "When you told me about other group members being interrogated and naming names I told Susan right away and the group was disbanded."

"That's right," said Susan. "That was more than six months ago and we haven't met together since. No one from our group has been arrested at all. I can hardly believe that I have you to thank in part for that young man," Susan said to Jack.

"It's probably okay Jack. If they were being monitored and found out they would have been arrested long before now. The government is very forceful and thorough in their prosecution of those groups," said Steven.

"I'm sorry Steven," said Susan. "I never imagined that this subject would crop up, you being a former head of the government and all. I guess that this puts you in a very awkward position?"

"Not at all, Dear lady, not at all. I'm retired. I never did agree with Ray Trandlore's position on those groups in any case," said Steven.

"See Susan," maintained Dorrissa. "I told you that Steven was a very unique individual didn't I?"

"I can't believe I'm hearing all this," said Bruce, unbelievably astounded.

"Hey, I'm not finished," yelled Dorrissa, sternly. "I took down the names of the people in Susan's Support Group and went back to the cell repository once more to research their cell availability."

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Susan. You got their cell samples didn't you? You paired them together and created babies. That's why you asked us all for our name preferences, two for boys and two for girls. You couldn't be sure of the sex after pairing."

"She asked us too. Steven and I," said Shelly, in a mild state of shock.

"She asked me too. She said it was a game," said Bruce.

"That's why you wanted me to write down the names of people who I thought would be good parents. I thought it was just another one of your silly games so I tried to humor you," said Jack.

"Did you find my cell samples?" asked Shelly, who by now was quite excited.

"But of course mine would have been long gone I imagine," said Susan.

"Mine too," agreed Steven.

"I can't believe you did that," said Jack.

"I can't believe you got away with it," said Bruce.

"So what happened? What happened? Did you match up the cell samples? Did you find mine?" asked Becka.

"Hold it, hold it, hold it," shouted Dorrissa, waving both hands in the air. "I found everyone's samples that were there. In a few cases some of them had already been used. Both of yours Susan, and yours also Steven, were long gone. You were both right. I looked for Charles Jacobstown and our family physician as well. They were gone too. But checking your information records I had a stroke of good luck. All Crehu statistic/picture files, once matched and successfully created, are destroyed so that no one can trace their lineage and establish who their donors were."

"That's correct," maintained Steven. "Since families are no more, the government wanted to make sure that no Crehu could ever find out who their donors were thus eliminating any potential trace of their ancestors. They reckoned Crehus must only know the government as their creator, their family."

"Yes and that's exactly what I found," said Dorrissa. "Crehu records only list a person's name and the years their cell samples were chosen for creation, nothing more. But when I looked up your name Steven, I not only found that your cell samples had been matched, I found out who they had become," said Dorrissa.

"What do you mean?" asked Steven.

"When you enter the name of a first generation Crehu, created from natural born donor cell samples, on the cell availability system there is no mention of their donor's names. When I researched your name, along with the other natural born humans on my list, the records not only contained the information of the year your samples were used. They also listed the names of the Crehus that were created from them. All of a sudden it struck me. If I couldn't create children of yours, I could create grandchildren instead."

"What about my samples? Did it show who was created from my samples?" asked Susan.

"I was able to get all the information on your samples and Steven's samples, as well as Charles and our family doctor's samples."

"Let me get this straight. You're telling Susan and myself that you know who our actual children are?" asked Steven, incredulously.

"That's right. And I was able to obtain their samples also," smiled Dorrissa.

"Unbelievable," said Susan, in dazed wonder.

"So what did you do with the samples? Are they still in storage or what?" asked Becka.

"I implemented the creation process back in January. Almost two weeks ago, on the twenty-seventh of October, twenty three beautiful little Crehus entered our world."

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Susan. "I'm a grandmother!"

"Dorrissa," said Jack, full of awe and wonder. "Pinch me or something. Are you telling me that we are parents? Both of us? Together? You and me?"

"You and I Darling, and yes, I am. I've wanted to tell you for so long. We have two beautiful boys. I've named them Gregory and Warren."

"Warren? Not Jack Jr.?" asked Jack, in astonishment.

"I came close," laughed Dorrissa.

What did I have? What are their names? Who was the father? Err, I mean the male donor," asked Becka.

"You had two beautiful boys also. But you named them. Both you and Bruce. Their names are Alan and Eric."

"But who was the father? The male donor?"

"You're looking at him Dear. He's sitting right beside you," said Dorrissa.

"Bruce?" asked Becka, wide-eyed. "But I didn't even know him in January."

"That's right. It was just the most amazing thing. At the time I matched you both up I had no idea you would end up together as a couple. After meeting Bruce for the first time though, I kind of planned on getting you together, hoping it would work out," said Dorrissa.

"That's crazy," said Bruce. "You didn't even know me. How did you come to obtain my cell samples anyway?"

"I can't believe that all this is happening," said Becka, still unable to take it all in.

"You must remember, Bruce. I also said that I was researching samples for the natural born humans on my list. And that I had found their children. You are one of those children. It was your samples that would permit them to be a grandparent."

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Susan, again.

"If that's the case, why aren't the other children here? My brother or sister, whatever I have," said Bruce, with a tinge of belligerence.

Dorrissa could not hold back an ever widening smile. "You were special Bruce. I had to meet you after I found out who you were."

"And exactly who is it that I am?" asked Bruce.

"You're Jack's brother," replied Dorrissa.

A hush fell over the whole room.

"Bruce is my brother?" gulped Jack, staring up at him in awe.

Bruce returned the look trying hard to contemplate what Dorrissa had just told him.

"Oh my God!" said Susan, slapping her hands to her cheeks.

"For Pete's sake, will you stop saying that?" asked Alice.

"Half brother Jack," said Dorrissa. "There is a possibility that you may have had both the same donor parents but we have no way of knowing for sure."

"Damn it Dorrissa," snapped Steven, "Are you going to keep us in suspense all night? Who is their natural parent?"

"Why Steven," smiled Dorrissa, "can't you see the resemblance in your own children. You are! They are both your boys."

Tears started to well up and roll down Steven's cheeks. Upon seeing them, the moment being too emotional, Jack and Bruce also began to cry. Within minutes there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

"Dorrissa, Dorrissa," repeated Steven, as he stood and scooped both of his boys up in a huge bear hug, "you've given me sons. How can I ever repay you?"

"Grandsons too, four beautiful boys," said Dorrissa, chocking back her own tears.

"I want to meet my children too," said Susan, wiping her eyes.

For the rest of the night, and well into next morning, the room was full of non-stop conversation. Of the twenty-three children born, how many were male and how many were female? Who were the cell matches and what were their names? What did they look like and when could they see them?

"We can't see them," said Steven, much to his dismay. "The law forbids it. With the possible exception of Dorrissa or Bruce, how can any of us see them?"

"What's the point of knowing you have children if you can't see them?" asked Shelly.

"Never mind just seeing them, I want to raise them," said Becka.

"Impossible," said Steven.

"You've opened up a real can of worms now Dorrissa. In all honesty, I want us to raise our children too. This has me really perplexed. There must be a way?" said Jack.

"There is no way Jack. Not even I can do anything about it," replied Steven. "When they reach twenty-one and are introduced into society then perhaps you will have an arm's length chance to get to know them. By arm's length I mean not as their parent. Unfortunately, I won't be so lucky. I won't be around then."

"But Steven, you are lucky. You have two handsome fine young men to call sons. I have a son and daughter but, because of the circumstances of the society we live in, I could never take the chance of introducing myself to them as their mother. It could jeopardize everything that Dorrissa has done if, in my meeting them, it was traced back to her. Our lives, the children's lives, could all be in danger. You should thank your lucky stars," said Susan.

"Oh I do. Believe me Susan, I do."

"Wait everyone. I've been giving this a lot of thought these past nine months," said Dorrissa. "Hear me out. I work in the birthing lab but I have complete access to the whole compound for Crehu inspection purposes. I can also tour any child complex in the country, within reason, including Morningside. Bruce can also do the same. A unique system of child transfers has been set up between our complexes and it wasn't even my idea," said Dorrissa, thoroughly amazed. "This would allow Bruce to visit Wycliffe more often than normal.

"On occasion our partners, partners being Jack and hopefully, officially someday soon, Becka, can come and visit us where we work. That could lead to a possible tour of the compound to show your partner your workplace without raising suspicion. Any visitation of such sort would have to be very infrequent though. Susan and Steven, I believe, could visit more often than Jack or Becka."

"How could we do that?" asked Steven.

"Yes. How could we," reiterated Susan.

"Okay Susan. You being a retired teachmistress and all, published author even and a leading authority on raising children, I could arrange for you to come and lecture the other teachmasters at Wycliffe on old fashioned methods of learning. Alice could come along as your helper/attendant. Carry your books, whatever. Steven. You could do a lecture tour of area child rearing centers talking on the benefits of getting involved with government service. Shelly, being your partner, would most likely be permitted to tour with you. You name me one rearing center that would not be honored to entertain a former Prime Minister as a guest speaker?" asked Dorrissa.

"By golly Dorrissa, I think you might be on to something there," said Steven.

"That will get us in the door to see them but how will that enable us to raise them? How can we protect them from receiving the Dad Chip when they are eight? How will we stop the government from administering the Rod shot when they turn eighteen? I wish those things on no one, but especially not on my grandchildren," said Susan.

"That's exactly why the government can get away with doing things like that to children. Because most people don't care about what they can't see or can't have," said Shelly.

"I agree completely," said Jack. "And to have a Dad Chip implanted in you is no different than walking around with a potential death sentence hanging over your head."

"What are you talking about?" wondered Susan.

"Yes Jack. What do you mean by that?" asked Dorrissa.

"Shelly knows. And I believe you do too Steven, or should I say, father. I'm not too impressed with the word Dad as you can tell," said Jack, with a half-hearted smile considering the gravity of the subject.

"Steve or Steven is just fine. I wouldn't want you boys to slip up in public and call me Dad. Even if you both are a 'chip' off this old block," Steven said, smiling.

"All right then. I believe Steven can bear witness to the fact that the Dad Chip is not just a monitoring device. It contains an integrated chamber of poison that is released into the bloodstream upon microwave meltdown causing instantaneous death."

"That's absurd," said Bruce.

"I'm afraid Jack's right," said Steven. "What he's saying is that the government long ago, before they began the creative human process, devised and perfected a monitoring devise that could be destroyed by the use of microwaves. A microwavable chip that could, upon microwave application, disintegrate and kill a Crehu. This was done so that large groups of Crehus, that might be prone to future rebellion or insurrection against the government, could be destroyed en masse by targeting the specific D.N.A. makeup in their chip."

"But that's not the case Steve. Ordinary people have been targeted and killed. For one reason or another," said Jack.

"Ordinary people Jack?" asked Steven, unaware of the situation.

"Yes, people who have run afoul with the law. They disappear. The government says they are sending them to another part of the country but no one ever sees or hears from them again."

"Do you have proof of this?"

"Yes Steven," said Shelly. "I can attest to that fact. Working in the morgue you hear things, you see things. What Jack says is all true."

"Well, we must report it. I had no idea I assure you," said Steven.

"I believe you," said Jack. "But we can't report it. They would just microwave us."

"Who is 'they' Jack?"

"Rogue members of the controllers? Rogue members of the government? Maybe one, maybe both, who knows? Maybe the orders come right from the top? Perhaps from the Prime Minister himself? Whatever? All I know is that we have to be very careful. And above all, for those of us who have them, we must remove these Chips."

"So that's why you were asking me questions about those Chips," said Steven. "But they can't be removed. If air hits them and the temperature drops the monitoring center will know. I told you that."

"I figured out a way to remove them without the monitoring center knowing. And I never could have done it without Shelly's help," said Jack.

"Shelly? What have you got to do with this?" Steven wanted to know.

"I removed a chip from one of the body's at the morgue. Just to see what would happen. It dissolved right before my eyes. Very soon after, government inspectors came to investigate. I destroyed the body in the crematorium and was able to cover my tracks before they arrived. Fortunately for me, they eventually bought my 'cooked up' explanation of what happened," said Shelly.

"Yes," said Jack, jumping in. "But there is a lead lined storage building up by Sudbury that will block microwaves. If we can get up there as a group we can remove the chips safely and destroy them. All it will take is a bit of minor surgery and I think I may know just the person who can help us," said Jack, with a twinkle in his eye.

"But how do you know it's safe?" asked Steven.

"I just know it is," replied Jack, not wanting to go into details.

"We must tell my friends from the Support Group. They all have Chip implants," said Susan.

"We can't. That's too many people to do this covertly. It would be too dangerous," volunteered Bruce.

"But we must tell them. Don't forget, they are parents too now. When they find out about the children they most certainly will want to be a part of us also."

"We can't tell them about the children Susan," said Dorrissa. "It would put us all in danger. Especially the children. The more of us that know, the less of a closely guarded secret it becomes. I've gone all these months with only me knowing out of fear and nothing else. Eight of us now know. Like that show we watched, Eight is Enough."

"I can't accept that," replied Susan. "They are my friends and they are trustworthy. And they are parents. They have a right to know. I would say the same about you if it were they who wanted to exclude you."

"It's not about trust, Susan. It's about security. We must think only of the children," stated Shelly, quite logically.

"Wait a minute people. I think we're getting off track here. Say we are able to eliminate everyone's Dad Chip safely, as Jack says. How is that going to do anything to protect the children?" asked Steven.

"Well for one thing, they can't monitor our movements anymore," said Jack.

"And they can't microwave us," added Becka.

"Look everyone," said Dorrissa. "Without the Dad Chip in us we can come and go in relative seclusion. We can watch the children grow. Before they turn the age of eight, we remove them from the complex."

"Remove them from an armed compound? Completely fenced? With round the clock guards? How do we do that, pray tell?" asked Steven.

"As I said before, the Morningside Center and the Wycliffe Center both have an exchange program going on right now, correct Bruce?"

"Dorrissa's right. A six month program we just finished," replied Bruce.

"I propose we do it again, this time for a year. We keep doing it over and over for the next five or six years. My staff knows that I am doing a complete and intense study on the group of Crehus I created. Not only did I pick them out, matched them up, and gave birth to them, but I also plan to be instrumental in their classroom education. From a distance perhaps, but instrumental just the same, I'll make it a point not to be too obvious. When the time comes, say when they are six or seven, no later, we shall have them transferred to the Morningside Center where Bruce is in charge.

"What will that solve?" asked Bruce.

"Well. They just won't get there," said Dorrissa.

"Now you're talking like a crazy lady," said Jack.

"Crazy like a fox," replied Dorrissa.

"Keep talking Dorrissa," said Becka, excitedly.

"Instead of taking them to Morningside, we spirit them away to somewhere that's hidden. You, Bruce, will tell your staff, if asked, that the government intervened at the last minute and the Wycliffe children were required to go to a different rearing center. One that was in their own district."

"What about the Crehu kids I send to Wycliffe? How will I explain it to my staff when they don't return?" asked Bruce.

"You tell your people that the Wycliffe Center was way under populated for the amount of teachmasters on hand. The government, in its wisdom, decided that it was best for everyone all round if the children stayed at Wycliffe, and they ordered just that. Your staff won't care. They certainly would not want to be involved on the wrong side of a governmental decision. They will do nothing. My staff will think the children that left the Wycliffe Center are at the Morningside Center. That will give us a whole year to bond with our children, and think of what to do next, before anyone realizes that they are missing," finished Dorrissa. She took a deep breath and let out a sigh.

"You've certainly put in an awful lot of time figuring this out haven't you," grinned Steven.

"Oh yes indeedy. I've given it a great deal of thought. Nine months worth," replied Dorrissa.

"Where are we going to spirit them away to? And how are we going to get them there without anyone seeing?" asked Bruce.

"Hey. I'm not saying there aren't any obstacles that still have to be overcome. It's not that we don't have enough time to figure things out in more detail. Let's just all enjoy the moment and look forward to the immediate future," said Dorrissa.

"I think it's a most excellent plan," said Becka.

"I agree," said Shelly.

"Perhaps the children could come here for awhile," offered Steven. "It's pretty remote and no one would suspect them being here. Our ultimate goal must be to get them out of the country and across the border though."

"You're right Steven. That's our only hope," said Jack.

"What about our friends from the Support Group?" asked Alice, who had been quietly sitting and listening for most of the night.

"Yes. That still needs to be resolved," said Susan.

"What if we compromised on that issue?" suggested Jack. "What if you tell them of the Dad Chip's danger and say you know some people who are going to have it safely removed? Urge your friends to do the same. Offer to bring them to have it removed also, as soon as we can arrange for a time."

"What's the compromise?" asked Susan.

"That they be told nothing about the children. Nothing at all until the time comes for us all to make our escape."

"That long?" questioned Susan, with a frown.

"It has to be. You know yourself, from listening to us all here tonight, that they would never be able to contain their feelings of not being able to see their own flesh and blood for the next five or six years," said Jack.

"Jack's right, Susan," said Dorrissa.

"Yes I suppose he is. Oh, where did you ever find such a smart man, Dorrissa?" asked Susan.

Dorrissa smiled, looked at Jack, and said, "He's a quick study."

At the raising of Jack's eyebrows, and the look of bewilderment on his face, everyone laughed.

"Alright then, agreed, it's a deal," said Susan.

"Okay everyone. I propose we make a pact...A pact of silence, here and now. No one but the eight of us shall know about the children until we all agree the time is right to tell the others," said Jack, holding out his arm, fingers stretched, palm pointing to the floor.

In unison, they all placed their hands upon Jack's and said, "AGREED."

"One more thing Susan," said Jack. When the day comes to remove the Chips, make sure you tell everyone who I am ahead of time. We wouldn't want to have any more fainting episodes," Jack suggested, smiling.

"You're nothing like I imagined you would be young man. I compliment Dorrissa on her good taste," said Susan.

Was that a blush Dorrissa thought she saw on Jack's face?

"Goodness Gracious look at the time. It's almost ten a.m.," said Alice.

"I'm not a bit tired," volunteered Becka.

"Me either," said Shelly.

"Breakfast anyone?" asked Steven.

"Here Dad, you relax. My brother and I should be able to manage breakfast fine. Right, Brother Jack?" said Bruce, grinning at Jack like a Cheshire cat, while catching Steven off guard at the same time.

Dorrissa was certain she saw a blush from Jack that time.

"And don't worry Dad. I'll remember when we're in public," promised Bruce.

Dorrissa was quietly contented as she watched Steven pump up with pride.

Making a quick recovery, Jack said, "Right you are Brother Bruce," grinning right back at him.

"Why don't you all go for a morning walk? You'll never see a day like today again. Jack and I will call you when breakfast is ready," said Bruce.

"After we've stuffed our own faces first of course," laughed Jack.

"Well that's a given," said Bruce, joining in.

"You boys are pretty palsy walsy if you ask me," Becka joked.

"C'mon Steven," called Shelly. "We can show Susan and Alice the bunkhouse."

Walking down the path to the converted lodge, Susan stopped and stretched. "Wow," she said, "I feel like I've just come through a spiritual bat mitzvah."

"Are you Jewish?" asked Steven intently. "My late partner Ruth was Jewish."

"I am on my grandfather's side. On my grandmother's side they were Presbyterian. But my parents celebrated both religions. Of course they had to do it privately after the Canadian government banned religious worship of all kinds," said Susan.

"I know," said Steven. "It was the same in our household. But your parents were certainly pioneers before their time. Who would have ever thought that Jews and Christians would one day unite to form a new religion and call it JudaChristianity almost twenty one hundred years after a congregation of Jews first broke away to form the Christian religion," said Steven.

"All except Roman Catholics," piped up Susan.

"You're right. Of course they were not alone in their misgivings. However, they always did march to the beat of a different drum, didn't they? It's why the whole reformation movement started back in the sixteen hundreds," said Steven.

"I only have a vague knowledge of how the Jews and the Protestants united," said Susan.

"It all came about close to one hundred years ago," began Steven. "The majority of Protestant faiths, Presbyterian, United, Baptist, among others, and the Anglican Church joined together as the Association of Christian Churches (A.C.C.) in issuing a Doctrine of Christian Belief.

"Previously to the release of this doctrine, much discussion had been given on the thought provoking matter of the true meaning of what it was to be a Christian. Jesus preached brotherly love and compassion for all, whatever a person's differences may be. If he expected this from his disciples on earth, could he expect any less of them in Heaven?

"Could the gates of Heaven really be barred from God loving people whose only crime was their disbelief in Jesus as the Messiah? Most certainly not! The true meaning of being a Christian, therefore, must be the acceptance of all God's children on earth as well as in Heaven. For this reason, the A.C.C. released the Doctrine of Christian Belief that stated although they believed Jesus to be the son of God and the Holy Messiah, whether or not a person believed in the Roman Catholic dogma of the immaculate conception or whether or not they believed Jesus was their personal savior, son of God and Holy Messiah, did not matter in regard to that person's acceptance into Heaven and receiving ever-lasting life. The real true acceptance came from the love of and belief in God as the one and only supreme being, obedience of his commandments, and pureness of heart."

"So what you're saying is you don't believe Jesus died on the cross for your sins," said Susan.

"I didn't say that. I believe Jesus died on the cross for all mankind's sins. Not just those who went on to become Christians. To be, or not to be, a Christian is purely a matter of personal choice, a personal belief. The belief in God is the ultimate redemption," said Steven.

"But isn't it true that Jesus said only those who believe in him can gain access to Heaven?" asked Susan.

"Jesus was a man known in his time to speak very much in parables. Who among us is alive today to bear knowledge of exactly what he did say and mean? His teachings were very similar to the commandments God laid out before us. To follow them is to follow God whether or not you believe Jesus to be his son and the Messiah. But I'm getting off track here. I was talking about the doctrine," said Steven.

"Yes, the doctrine issued by the Association of Christian Churches," said Susan.

"Well," Steven began, "when the doctrine was first proclaimed, the Pope, head of the Roman Catholic Church, responded with outrage calling it flagrant heterodoxy, blatantly blasphemous by its nature. The Orthodox Churches also wanted no part of it. Islam, Hinduism, and Buddhism adherents, all remained mute, suffice in the knowledge that their religion was the only true one to follow.

"The only different religious group that responded to this doctrine was the Jews. The admittance into Heaven and gaining ever-lasting life only through the acceptance of Jesus as you personal savior had always been a sore point, sticking in the craw so to speak, of the Jewish people. They had always maintained that Jesus was a good person, a prophet yes, but a false prophet to his claim that he was the Messiah.

"With the release of this doctrine by the A.C.C., moderates in the Jewish community, Rabbi's and such, proclaimed that an olive branch was being extended to the Jewish people. Although they still maintained Jesus was not the Messiah, it was a possibility. Since the Christian New Testament said Jesus will return in a coming Armageddon, and if this happened to be the case, the Jewish people would see him and then they'd know for sure that he was the true Messiah and would welcome him with open arms.

"With such a revolutionary admittance by two major world religions, moderates from both sides came together merging their customs, practices and beliefs into combined holy services. Of course there were sects of the Jewish religion and factions of Protestant Christians who held firm to their old ways and would not budge in any shape or form," said Steven.

"It all seems so strange that two different, so very different, religions like those could come together and unite," said Susan.

"Not really. Christianity sprang from Judaism," replied Steven. "All new religions have sprung up from parts of others. People have always been enticed by strangers. The unknown, the hidden mystery, the excitement, the suspense of it all, much like the forbidden fruit that beckoned first to Eve and then to Adam.

"Jesus was such a person. A stranger at first perhaps, to many of his followers, he was not a stranger to Jews in general. He was a Jew. To others not of the Jewish faith, many with no faith whatsoever save their faith in Rome and the Gods to which they had prayed and served, Jesus was a breath of fresh air. He was a person to believe in, a person to follow. The more the Roman Empire decayed, the more people began to follow Jesus' teachings calling themselves Christians and spreading their new faith to far and distant lands. Thus was the beginning of Christianity.

"Catholicism, Orthodox and later Protestantism all sprang up from Christianity. Many different denominations derived from Protestantism. Just like the earth has seen many changes through time, so has religion."

"And Canada has no religion," complained Susan.

"Oh, but your wrong. Government is Canada's new religion. Just ask Prime Minister Billarts. On second thought," Steven laughed, "disregard that last statement."

"I wonder what the worship services in the JudaChristian religion are like. I would really love to attend one if I ever get out of this country," said Susan.

"They are quite nice actually," said Steven. "A few years back, on a working vacation in the south of France, Ruth and I had occasion to attend such a service. Their house of worship is called a Synachurch. The first half of the service dealt with the Old Testament, the second half, the New. Although the teachings of Jesus are taught, they do not refer to him as Jesus Christ, only as Jesus. Whether or not anyone wishes to accept him as their personal savior is left up to the individual members of the congregation to decide. Holy services are provided seven days a week. With the vast number of people in the world and their varied work hours, it only makes sense. The services are really interesting. Some people call them B&B's," said Steven.

"Bed and Breakfasts?" enquired Susan.

"No. Baptism's and Bar Mitzvah's," replied Steven. "I'll have to take you to one sometime. JudaChristianity is my new religion by choice."

"You know Steven, when I was a little girl my grandmother told me that Earth is really Hell. As portrayed in the bible. With every passing generation on this earth the quality of life would get worse and worse because of pollution, famine, wars, sickness, and overpopulation among other things. When Armageddon finally arrived she said the wicked souls of the universe would either be cast down to the despoiled earth or rise up from its bowels, depending on where they waited, to live out eternity in endless suffering. The truly righteous would remain with God in the Heavens in eternal bliss."

"Now there's a beautiful thought!" said Steven. "Maybe your grandmother was onto something there. My mother leaned towards reincarnation but with the same idea. She wondered if people were continuously reborn until they managed to live a life worthy of redemption. Very wicked people would come back handicapped, born into desperate poverty or other futile situations and made to suffer through a painful existence. When the end of the world finally came, the people living on earth would be stuck here. I kissed her and said you'll never know Mom. You're much too good to ever come back."

"Oh Steven, that's so touching. You must have had very loving parents that taught you well."

"I did and they did," he replied, stifling a sniffle.

"Hey Susan, lay off," laughed Shelly, standing at the bunkhouse. "I saw him first."

"Oh oh, we had better get going," said Susan.

"I guess we'd better," said Steven, chuckling.

"Steven. This bunkhouse is perfect for the children," said Becka, clapping her hands in anticipated glee.

"I'm sure we can do a lot better by then," Steven said briskly.

Just as Susan and Alice were about to finish their inspection of the premises, Bruce called out, "Breakfast. Come and get it. We are like stuffed piggies. We can't eat another bite."

"Oh I'll fix him," Becka said assuredly.

After breakfast Steven approached Susan.

"You know earlier this morning you said you felt like you just had a spiritual Bat Mitzvah? I meant to ask you what you meant by that."

"When a girl is thirteen in the Jewish religion she has a Bat Mitzvah, which is a celebration honoring her passage from childhood, thus becoming a woman. I found out today that I am not only a mother, but a grandmother as well. Yet I have never given birth. Now if that isn't spiritual, I don't know what is."

"Yup, you've got a point there," said Steven, nodding his head.

"That reminds me," said Susan. "I must get the names and addresses of my first generation Crehus from Dorrissa."

"Wait a minute Susan. They mustn't know who you are. We can't trust anyone else with our secret," said Steven, very much concerned.

"I haven't forgotten about our pact. I won't say anything. I just want to see them up close, in person. See what they look like."

"How could you not say anything knowing that they are your flesh and blood? There is no way I could resist such a temptation if it was dangled before me."

"Hmm, you're right. I wouldn't be able to either now that I think about it. You and that son of yours, always so smart, you both remind me of my Zayda. That's a compliment. Maybe some day I will see them. The children must come first."

The rest of that last holiday weekend was spent in wonderful enjoyment by all. There was much talk of the babies and speculation on when everyone could finally see them. Jack had insisted that no one was going to see them before the problem of the implanted Dad Chips was resolved. Calling everyone together, Jack told them that there was one more problem that had to be faced but it was not insurmountable.

"On Monday I'm going to make an appointment to see my personal physician. I trust him implicitly and I'm sure he will be sympathetic to our dilemma. We need the assistance of a skilled surgeon to remove the Dad Chip implants. His secretary is also his nurse and assistant. They may balk at first because of the personal danger involved. If they do, I'm asking you for permission to tell them of their own personal stake in this venture," said Jack.

"I take it you mean telling them that they too are the parent and grandparent of newly born Crehus," said Susan.

"If need be yes, but only as a last resort. They will both honor our secret and would never divulge it. Of this I'm positive."

"You're completely certain of their trustworthiness?" asked Steven.

"Completely."

"Very well, you have my permission," Steven replied.

"Mine also," said Susan. She trusted Steven's wisdom above all others.

One by one, they were all in agreement. When the weekend finally ended there were more hugs upon this departure than there had ever been before. It wasn't just because there were more bodies to say goodbye. A true bonding had taken place. A non- permutable pact had been made. The realization that this was no mere group of friends saying goodbye for the weekend escaped no one. This was indeed, a Family Support Group in the truest sense and form ever. Deep down inside, everyone knew that.

"Jack," said Ava. "It's about time you called. Dr. Foxing wanted to see you months ago for a follow up on your cholesterol levels. You can be sure he'll give you a piece of his mind."

"Hey Ava, I feel great. I've been working out."

"We'll see about that. How does tomorrow at ten-thirty in the morning sound?" asked Ava.

"The afternoon would be better. Then I don't have to come back to work."

"Is two-forty five okay?"

"That's perfect Ava. Thanks a lot. I'll see you then."

On Tuesday afternoon Jack was ushered in to one of Dr. Foxing's examining rooms.

"I hope you haven't had anything to eat or drink in the last twelve hours young man," bellowed the doctor, as he entered the room.

"Of course not, I know the procedure. I don't want to be yelled at any more than I have to," said Jack, meekly.

With that comment Dr. Foxing laughed out loud. The gruffness about his face diminished completely, being replaced by a twinkle in his eyes.

"So tell me Jack, how have you been?"

"I've been fine Dr. Foxing. But truth be told, that isn't why I've come to see you today."

"Oh no, let me guess."

"I went to visit that radioactive waste storage facility you told me about. It works. You can remove a person's Dad Chip there without being discovered. Once removed you must smash it completely before you leave the building."

"How in the Name of Government were you able to do that Jack? That requires a surgical procedure."

"I improvised. I had a willing subject. That doesn't matter. All that matters is that it works. And I need your help."

"I don't know how to tell you this Jack," said Dr. Foxing.

Judging by the reluctance he heard in the doctor's voice, Jack braced himself for a refusal.

"I'm not sure when you were there, or what you did, but that containment unit has recently received final approval for storage use and shipments of radioactive equipment will be arriving there at any time."

"When did you hear that?" asked Jack, anxiously.

"It was in last week's medical journal. I've got the copy in my office if you'd like to see it?"

"No, it doesn't matter. There is still a chance. It's our only hope."

"Only hope for what Jack? What are you mixed up in?"

"There is a group of us. We have to have our Dad Chips removed right away. We can't take a chance on being monitored. Lives depend on it, and not just our lives."

"What have you done Jack?" asked the doctor. "It sounds to me as if you have gone and got yourself mixed up in a Family Survival Group. They could be monitoring you right now. I'm sorry Jack. I can't help you. I'm sorry," repeated Dr. Foxing, getting up to leave.

"Dr. Foxing please. You're our only hope. We're not being monitored. Not now. Maybe not even in the future. But we can't take a chance on that happening."

Slowly Dr. Foxing turned around, a forlorn look of pity upon his face. "I'm sorry Jack. I wish there was something I could do."

"But we have children, you have children...I mean grandchildren. We have to protect them. We have to save them," said Jack, gathering up every bit of passion in his body.

"What are you saying?" asked Dr. Foxing, in utter disbelief.

"I'm saying that Dorrissa gained access to the cell repository, researched the files of everyone we thought worthy of being parents, obtained their cell samples and created children in her birthing lab, twenty three of them in all. They were born two weeks ago. As soon as they are old enough, before they reach the age of mandatory Dad Chip implantation, we are going to escape with them."

Dr. Foxing dropped into his seat, stunned by what he had just heard.

"Grandchildren, Jack? I have grandchildren? How is this possible?"

"Dorrissa researched your file for possible unmatched cells. Both of your cell samples had been matched and used years earlier in the creation process. But she was able to track down the exact two male Crehus that they had produced. Dorrissa was able to obtain all four cell samples which came from your two Crehu offspring. She matched two of them with Ava's cell samples and two with another lady that we know. She is a very nice woman and a close friend of ours.

"The results being, that you now have four healthy grandchildren, two boys and two girls. One of each, are also a son and daughter of Ava's. We, as a group, are determined to free these children at any cost. Even if it means sacrificing ourselves to do it, they must not grow up as eunuchs in this debauched society."

For the next few minutes both men sat in silence just looking at each other. Jack, with patience and hope waiting for a reply, and Dr. Foxing, in a breathless fog trying to take it all in. All his life he had felt robbed of the gift of children and in one fell swoop, Jack and Dorrissa had given it back to him. He was speechless. Dr. Foxing removed his glasses to wipe his eyes with a tissue. Jack could see that they were moist and glossy.

"Are you alright?" he asked the doctor.

Taking a deep breath, Dr. Foxing let out a long, lingering sigh. Flashing a momentary half smile, he gulped another breath. While emitting a rush of air from his nostrils, he answered, "Hmpt...I don't think I'll ever be alright again." The doctor shook his head back and forth. Then, raising it and looking at Jack with the biggest grin imaginable, said, "From this day forward, I'll always be more than alright. You can count on my help Jack. And on Ava's also, I'm quite sure. But we have to move fast. Very fast. How many people are we talking about for Dad Chip removal?"

"Seventeen, eighteen including Ava," replied Jack.

"We will have to do it this coming weekend for sure. I just hope we are not too late. We shall also need a reason for being up in Sudbury," said Dr. Foxing.

"We can say we are there visiting Science North, a government museum. That worked for me the last time."

"We must travel there in small groups. We must not draw attention to ourselves," replied the Doctor.

"I understand," said Jack.

Taking great pains to eliminate the possibility of anything going wrong, the details were worked out. No more than four people would travel together. No one would stay at any motels for fear of being traced back to the area. A central meeting place at Science North was planned where Steven and Susan, the only two people without Dad Chips (not including Dr. Foxing who would be performing the surgery) would act as drivers, picking up, and dropping off, people for Chip removal. No vehicle could be left unattended outside of the storage facility while operations were going on inside. The whole process would take the better part of a full day to complete.

Jack told Dr. Foxing that some people in the group did not know about the children and would not be told until the time came for their escape. He explained to the doctor the reasons. Dr. Foxing, in full agreement, said that he would also keep this knowledge from Ava until that time also.

When everything was said and done, the doctor sent Jack to the lab to have blood work and a urine sample taken. They now had a legitimate reason for Jack's visit. Much work still had to be done before Saturday. Everyone, including the twelve friends of Susan, would have to be notified right away. Two or three days didn't leave much time to make plans. Especially for such a large undertaking as this.

Come Friday evening, everyone was ready to depart. Only Howard and Ryan had vehicles. Timothy and Elaine would ride with Howard and Meg. Paul and Hope would go with Ryan and Wendy. Susan and Alice would bring Monica, Eloise and Rhonda. Steven and Shelly would travel alone. Jack and Dorrissa would bring Bruce and Becka. Becka was very frightened by the whole episode and Dorrissa could comfort and reassure her along the way. Everyone left at staggered times so as to alleviate any suspicion that they were traveling in a group. Only a short refueling stop was permitted. No restaurants were to be frequented. The less anyone was able to take notice of them, the better.

On Saturday morning at nine-thirty, everyone, including Dr. Foxing and Ava, met up inconspicuously at the southwest mid section of Science North's large parking lot. Because of the bad experience that Jack had gone through (being traced back to the area during the time of the controller's mysterious death) no one was permitted to go inside the building because you were required to sign a guestbook. Also, upon leaving for the return trip home, all parking receipts had to be destroyed.

"Dr. Foxing grabbed his medical bag and along with Ava, hopped into Steven and Shelly's vehicle. Howard and Ryan followed after them, keeping a respectable distance away. Jack had not told the others that the storage facility had been slated for use. He prayed all the way there that it would still be empty. Upon arrival he found that his prayers had been answered. It was just the way he had left it. Everyone piled out of the cars and went inside. After lighting four Coleman portable lanterns for light, Steven, Susan, Dorrissa, Howard and Ryan all drove the vehicles back to the museum parking lot.

Jack remained to help, and also to destroy the Chips, one by one, as they were removed. Once Dr. Foxing had made the incision, and his forceps had removed their foul prey, Ava went to work with the dissolving stitches. Jack allowed no one to go outside for fear of setting off the monitoring device.

Once everyone had gotten back to the museum and parked, Steven returned with all in his car. Back at the facility, Steven gave a coded knock on the outside of the door to let Jack know that he had returned. Dr. Foxing being in the middle of a Chip removal, Steven and the others had to wait patiently until Jack destroyed the Chip and the door could be opened safely. The operations would be staggered, one male one female, so on the return trip it would look as if they were couples out for a sightseeing excursion. Thankfully, being the time of year it was, there were not a lot of vehicles using the highway. Steven made sure he used the utmost caution upon entering and exiting from the side road. While Wendy was waiting her turn, she approached Jack.

"When Susan told me it was you who was Dorrissa's partner I almost flipped out," Wendy said.

"You did? Why is that?" asked Jack.

"Because one of the women that was arrested during a Family Support Group raid you covered in Guelph happened to be a close friend of mine. Dorrissa had seen how upset I was. I had blamed you for the arrest and she wisely kept hidden the fact that you were her partner. But you ended up saving my life. All of our lives and I thank you so much for it."

"What do you mean saved your life?"

"Susan told us that we had to stop the meetings and all formal association with each other. She said that Dorrissa had been told by someone that controllers torture people arrested and get them to name names. Names of other people who might be involved in Support Groups. Then they monitor those people. We would have all been arrested if not for you. I surmise it was you, who told Dorrissa," said Wendy.

"Are you saying you were monitored?" asked Jack, stone-faced and holding his breath.

"Yes I was. Two men from the government came to my door a few months later and interrogated me about my friend. They said that I had been under surveillance but they had found nothing remiss. I denied the other woman was my friend and said I had only met her casually a few times. She wasn't even an acquaintance, I lied. I felt so bad after they left...Like one of the apostles at the last supper."

"Dorrissa," screamed Jack. "How could you not have told me this? Who is to say she isn't being monitored right now? Do you realize the danger you have put us all in?"

"Calm down Jack. She didn't know," said Steven, grabbing his arm.

"It's not her fault Jack. It's mine. I demanded these people be allowed to come. Remember," reminded Susan.

"Jack. You assured me there was no way anyone would be monitored," said Dr. Foxing.

"Doctor, please don't stop. We don't have time for this. Okay people listen up," Steven shouted. "We've spent far too long here already. The ones who are finished must come back with me to where the cars are parked. Right now!"

"Wait," said Jack. "I want to say one thing before you go. I'll make it as brief as possible. I never knew anything about God or religion growing up...Only government. Like most of you. Our government may believe it is God but it is really Satan. I've been praying non stop, ever since this trip began, that Satan would not find out about us. Now you have all heard that Wendy was monitored a while back. I pray that was the end of it. Just because our Dad Chips are being removed though, does not mean we are home free. If another Survival...I mean Support Group member, blurts out one of our names under questioning, the government will try and monitor that person. If they are unable to pick up a signal, controllers will soon be calling. When they catch up with you, and find out your Dad Chip is missing, they will ransack everything in your residence in the search of names...Your accomplice's names...Our names...And I do mean everything. For that reason, once you get back home this evening, you must destroy all things that could lead the government to any of us. Names, addresses, phone numbers, photographs, computer files, digital camera memories, everything must go. Not a shred of evidence must be allowed to remain linking any of us with another and there must be no contact among each other at all for the time being."

"How long will that be for?" asked Meg.

"We'll have to play it by ear. Susan will be contacted when things begin to feel more comfortable and she in turn will contact you," replied Jack.

"What happens if the controllers come for one of us before that time?" asked Howard.

"No one would be able to help you in any way without jeopardizing the lives of the rest of us," said Jack.

"What do you think Steven? You were once a Prime Minister," asked Susan.

"Knowing Prime Minister Billarts the way I do I'm afraid Jack's right. Pray we are all very careful and that none of us gets caught. For if that happens, the person would surely be made to confess and we would all be eliminated or sent to Artic imprisonment camps, including myself."

"Alright everyone, what must be, must be. Let us all hold hands and make a pact. If any of us are ever caught, we must divulge nothing," said Susan.

Once everyone swore to secrecy, the people who had their Chip removed previously, left with Steven.

"Will we be alright Jack?" asked Dorrissa, after the first group had left.

"Only time will tell Dorry," replied Jack. "I'm sorry I blew up at you. I guess the pressure of this whole affair has been too much for me."

"It's been great on us all Jack. I understand. There is no need for apologies."

For the rest of the afternoon, both Dr. Foxing and Ava worked at a feverous pace. Ava was the last to go under the knife. When she was finished, the doctor stitched her up. The whole day had proceeded well, without a hitch. After cleaning up, and wiping everything down with water from a container, all soiled linens were placed in garbage bags and deposited in Steven's trunk, along with Dr. Foxing's medical bag. Dorrissa, Bruce, and Becka, were waiting back at the parking lot for Jack. Shelly was there also. Howard, Ryan, Susan, and all of their passengers had left and were already on their way back home. After being dropped of at his car, Dr. Foxing and Ava would do the same.

With everyone having had the operation in a fair bit of pain, it nowhere came near the exhilaration and relief they all felt from having their Dad Chip removed. Even if the pain lasted for the major part of a week, it's like Jack said, "Big deal." There was no sense hanging around. The sooner they all left, the better. Jack followed Steven's car, from a distance, most of the way home, and displayed a short wave goodbye when Steven turned at his cutoff. Bruce's car was at Jack's, and he would be spending the rest of the weekend...At his brother's.

Sloan arrived at his office and shook the rain from his overcoat before hanging it up. He looked at the calendar on his desk. It was Tuesday November18, 2150. Where did the summer go he thought? He was now Chairman of the Teachmasters Review Board. Anson, his predecessor, had long been relegated to some far off obscure place and was now but a minion of government contempt for having had the audacity and impudence of going against Sloan.

Sloan had, by this time, taken on a veritable Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde persona. His Dr. Jekyll unfortunately, left much to be desired. In fact his personality, some would say, bordered on dementia or schizophrenia. He sometimes found it a fulltime job to try and keep his omnipotence in check. Prime Minister Billarts, his greatest ally and prodigious benefactor, believed Sloan only to be unscrupulously ambitious. As far as he could see, there was nothing wrong with that. A government psychiatrist on the other hand, would have had no problem ascertaining the difference.

Psychiatry made much advancement in the understanding and treatment of schizophrenics in the mid twenty first century. It was established that the brain in a normal individual works, to use an analogy, much the same as a timepiece. The thought process goes around clockwise. With a person displaying a schizoid personality, studies determined that their brain runs counter clockwise, opposite of normal. Patients of this ilk are found to see images of life's normal ongoing events, backwards. A normal person sees with their eyes what is about to happen, what is about to take place, logically.

A schizophrenic also sees what is about to take place but they see it backwards, distorted, scrambled, illogically. It was found to be that people with extremely high intelligence were the ones most likely and more prone to develop schizophrenia. It nearly always first appears in dreams. Later it takes hold with a gripping fervor of a person's waking reality. The more a schizophrenic uses their brain, the more it becomes burnt out. Their once outward brilliance concaves in on them, collapsing backwards and getting clubbed into the deep dark depths of their inner mind, lost forever amidst the frailties of psychosis.

But Sloan needn't worry...For now. He still managed to function. He could only be deemed borderline schizophrenic. The inner reaches of his paranoia had yet to catch up with him. As Sloan was pondering some teachmaster files strewn about his desk, wondering how many more wretched practitioners he could bestow upon the Wycliffe Center, he received a call from Jill his secretary.

"Excuse me Sir. I have a call for you on line two from Kevin, the manager of the Wycliffe Child Rearing Center."

"Okay, got it. Yes Kevin, Sloan here. What can I do for you?"

"Yes Sir. I'm calling about the two most recent teachmasters that were sent to us. They both have negative ratings. This makes a total of seven employees with negative ratings that you have sent us in less than six months."

"So? What's you're point?"

"I just want to know what gives. How come my center seems to get the failures, the dregs of the profession?" asked Kevin.

"Just because they're on probation I wouldn't call them dregs. After all, they have to go somewhere. We here at the review board think your complex to be a most suitable place for them. If anyone can turn them around to repent their ways we're sure it's you folks at Wycliffe," said Sloan, rather pleased with his response.

"Why pick on our complex? I've checked around. We have a disproportionate percentage of undesirables in terms of other rearing centers. The Wycliffe Center is striving for excellence among the Crehus we turn out. We have instrumented new innovative programming here to help us with our goals and what you are doing to us with these negative rank teachmasters is completely unfair."

"Do I hear violins playing in the background? I'm tired of your bleeding heart initiatives. If you are so damn good, work with what you've got. Don't come crying to me. You'll get what I send you. Your propensity for sniveling offends me to no end. Perhaps you'd much rather be a teachmaster yourself? I can make that happen you know?" said Sloan, with ire of intensity.

"Minister Thatcher might just have something to say about that. I didn't want to go over anyone's head but perhaps I should call him. I can see I'm only flogging a dead horse here," replied Kevin.

"Are you calling me an animal? Perhaps the choice of a swine, a skunk, a rat or an ass would have been better?" said Sloan.

"Oh for government's sake, it's just an expression."

"Not to worry, little man. I'll call Thatcher for you. It will be my pleasure. Goodbye," said Sloan, abruptly ending the call.

Later that day Kevin received a call from Thatcher, Minister for Creation and Education.

"I just got off the phone speaking with Sloan, the Chairman of the Teachmasters Review Board."

"Uh huh," said Kevin.

"He's pretty incensed about some accusations he said you made. Did you call him a dead horse?" asked Thatcher.

"Not bloody likely. And they weren't accusations either. He can't keep dumping the crap of the profession on us and get away with it," demanded Kevin.

"I wish you had called me first Kevin. Instead of trying to take the matter into your own hands," said Thatcher.

"I was hoping I'd be able to reason with him. I didn't realize how big a waste of time it was going to be."

"I see. In his capacity, Sloan has complete jurisdiction over where he can send downgraded teachmasters. I do retain ultimate authority to overrule his decisions but knowing how close he is to Prime Minister Billarts it would be imprudent of me not to be the least bit leery in doing so. For this reason I've deemed a compromise to be in order," said Thatcher, reassuringly.

"What sort of compromise?" questioned Kevin, warily.

"Sloan and I will both be arriving Thursday morning for a viewing and an inspection of your complex. If I personally find the teachmastering there to be overtly pathetic I shall demand Sloan send his castoffs elsewhere. I feel there is no need to bother the Prime Minister with such trivial affairs. Are we in agreement?" Thatcher wanted to know.

"But Sir...The teachmasters will be on their best behavior when they know you are coming?" reasoned Kevin.

"Precisely. That is why you are not going to tell them we are coming. We shall arrive discreetly and remain inconspicuous for the duration of our tour. I shall see for myself whether or not there is an overabundance of incompetence among your staff. Does that meet with your approval Kevin?"

"Yes Sir."

"Very well then, we shall see you Thursday morning," said Thatcher.

Dorrissa happened to bump into Kevin in the Wycliffe cafeteria the day after.

"Kevin. Hi, how's it going?" asked Dorrissa.

"So-so," he replied.

"Have you done another Crehu exchange with Morningside yet? I heard the next one is supposed to be for a full year?"

"It hasn't been finalized yet. For the life of me I don't know why Bruce would even consider doing another one. The number of negative rank teachmasters we have received has been abominably atrocious. I phoned Sloan the other day to try and reason with him but I was wantonly and undeservedly rebuked," said Kevin.

"You phoned Sloan? That's mind boggling Kevin. I've told you what he's like. Now I wonder how long it will be before the other shoe drops?"

"Thursday."

"What?" Dorrissa said, looking as if she had not heard.

"Thursday. Thatcher's bringing Sloan here on Thursday for a surprise inspection of our center. No one is supposed to know. I trust you won't tell anyone. It was Thatcher's idea apparently."

"Sloan...here?" said Dorrissa, thinking that is much too close for comfort.

"Thatcher is bringing Sloan with him to discern for himself whether or not the performance of our teachmasters is up to snuff," said Kevin.

"And in your opinion?" asked Dorrissa.

"I'd say my phone call speaks for itself."

"Will they be touring the birthing lab too?"

"I don't assume so. In fact I would imagine it will only take in the older grades. That is where the negative rank teachmasters have been positioned and that is where the problem lies. But you never can tell. That will be up to Thatcher. Don't tell your staff Dorrissa whatever you do. If this leaks out we shall both be into it up to our necks."

"I won't. Thanks for the info. I'll talk to you later Kevin," said Dorrissa.

Upon leaving the cafeteria she couldn't help but think to herself, I pray they don't go anywhere near the nursery complex.

Thursday morning arrived on the heels of a Wednesday night hangover. Sloan busied himself with the final touches of his wardrobe.

"Goodbye sexy. I shouldn't be late. I'll see you when I get back," said Sloan, meaningfully.

His mirrored image however, would provide no response as he left his space. He met Thatcher in the below-ground, government parking garage at nine a.m.

"What, no chauffer?" asked Sloan, in surprise.

"Not a chance. I love being behind the wheel. You should take lessons. You might find it will come in handy one day," suggested Thatcher.

"Perhaps I should. Maybe I will."

After a thorough inspection at the Wycliffe gatehouse (Thatcher originally gave the guard a good dressing down when he initially proceeded to wave them through) they met Kevin in his office. All three men watched, on closed circuit monitors, as events unfolded in the various classrooms that were contained in different buildings that made up the sprawling compound. It was not long before they observed one of the newly arrived Crehu teachmasters, on probation and sent by Sloan, belittling a young girl in a cheap and tawdry fashion. Soon after, another that arrived in mid summer was seen to make a rude and lascivious remark to a young pubescent teenage boy.

"I see what you mean Kevin. We shall take care of this once and for all," said Thatcher adamantly.

"I had no idea," said Sloan, in a mixture of feigned ignorance and minuscule defense.

"Of course you didn't," offered Thatcher. "It's not your fault but I'm afraid they've had their last chance at this profession."

"That's a relief," said Kevin, breathing easier.

Both teachmasters were ordered to their living quarters, to be removed later and taken to a holding center. From there they would go to the Rank Review Board to be downgraded and given a much less rewarding job in society. Taking a personal tour of one of the buildings, Thatcher stopped in the hall by a doorway. A calming, soothing music could be heard softly pulsating throughout the room. It was one of the nurseries.

"Music eh, that's a new one. How many infants do we have in here?" asked Thatcher as they stepped inside to look around.

"Forty-four Sir," replied a young caregiver. "But each room can hold up to fifty and there are ten of these rooms on each floor," she added.

"How many babies are created and arrive in the nursery, say...On a weekly basis?" Thatcher asked Kevin.

"Five hundred a week, give or take, on average Sir. That works out roughly to the same amount we turn out weekly, once they reach the end of their twenty-first year here."

"So that's approximately twenty-five thousand Crehus a year. Not bad. I wonder if we could up that figure though?" asked Thatcher.

"There is always room for improvement, but nothing astronomical of course. We are, after all, a child rearing center first and foremost, rather than a production factory. In the end run, quality will always outshine quantity," replied Kevin.

"Hey. These Crehus here, Gregory and Warren, they look an awful lot alike?" questioned Sloan.

Yea? Well those two over there, Alan and Eric, look a lot alike too," replied Thatcher.

"All babies look alike," said Kevin. "Without their nametags I bet you wouldn't know a boy from a girl," he laughed.

"You're probably right," chuckled Thatcher.

"They look an awful lot alike to me," continued Sloan.

"Well why don't you stay here and observe them while I go outside and check on this new game of flag ball that Kevin has been telling me about," said Thatcher.

"No thanks," replied Sloan. "I could use some fresh air right about now."

Once outside, Thatcher saw for himself that flag ball was in fact, just a rigorous form of physical activity and not violent in any way. It was decided that no more negative rank teachmasters would be forthcoming to the Wycliffe Center until a more even distribution of them had taken place. This made Kevin quite happy but, at the same time, left Sloan in a state of perturbation with his personal agenda having gone awry. Thatcher and Sloan departed in the early afternoon without visiting the birthing lab. This left Dorrissa immensely pleased. She did not relish the idea of having Sloan in her midst.

The last few weeks of the year passed in a relative harmonious state for Dorrissa. New Year's Eve was spent up at Steven's cottage with Bruce and Becka. Shortly after New Year's, Steven and Shelly left for Florida. Jack and Dorrissa visited them there for a week in March. Jack would have loved to stay longer but Dorrissa refused to be separated from the children for any further duration. By the end of spring, Becka received her 'A' rating and moved into a house with Bruce, on the outskirts of Bradford. It was roughly half way between where each of them worked.

During the summer of 2151, Dorrissa visited with Susan twice, both times at a restaurant. Susan and Alice did come up to Steven's cottage once, for the Spring Day weekend. Of the original members from Susan's initial Support Group, she and Alice were the only ones to socialize with any of them. It was always done on a one to one basis and only at public places, events or gatherings.

The same procedure was followed over the next three years whenever anyone from the group met with each other. No one ever allowed visits to take place in their respective spaces. Dorrissa and Becka only saw Susan and Alice. It was now close to autumn in the year 2154. The children that Dorrissa had brought into existence were more than four and a half years past their date of creation and almost entering their fourth year of life. Everything had been progressing smoothly, until that fateful day.

It was a sunny Saturday, the last weekend of August, when Howard and Meg climbed into their car. They were on their way to meet Ryan and Wendy at a newly opened restaurant for dinner in the retirement haven of Orillia. Meg had written down the directions and excitedly clasped them in her hand. Although Wendy and she worked together for many years and were good friends, it had been quite some time since they had gotten together as a foursome.

After buckling up their seatbelts, Howard punched in the proper number sequence on the anti-theft keypad. Not only would the car not start without it, but pressure sensors in all the seats rendered an automobile unworkable without the seatbelts properly in position.

Howard eased the car into the highway traffic and prepared for a leisurely, relaxing drive. Nearing their cutoff destination, a car that had been passing in the inside lane blew a tire and the driver lost control of his vehicle. Seeing the other car swerving towards them Meg screamed a warning. But it was too late. The car hit them forcing Howard into the guardrail. Careening off it, Howard's car spun right around and was hit head on by a government transport that had been following too close at a high rate of speed. It was all over in a matter of seconds. Two control cars were the first to arrive at the scene.

"This looks bad, Dave," said Larry, one of the controllers, to his partner.

"Oh it's a fatal. No doubt about it. They'll need to be extricated by the fire department for sure. Better do a temperature reading with the portable Dad Chip monitor just in case," said Dave.

"What's the point," said Larry.

"Regulations, you know as well as I do."

The two controllers walked over to the crushed vehicle.

"The fire department and an ambulance are on the way," shouted a controller from the other vehicle.

"That's funny. I'm not getting a reading from either one of them. They must be natural born humans," said Larry.

"No way," said Dave. That identification card says Howard 1173A17. This portable must be on the fritz. Hey Karl, bring your monitor over here will ya?" shouted Dave, in frustration.

The other controller brought his monitor over to take a reading.

"It doesn't register," said the other controller.

"That's weird. We'd better check them out as soon as they're freed up."

Once the fire department arrived and extricated the bodies, the controllers had the ambulance operators remove their tops.

"Son of a bitch, will you look at that," said Dave, to the other controllers.

He was pointing to a three inch scar, faded but still noticeable, under Howard's left armpit.

"She's got one too," said Larry.

"Karl. Get on the phone and notify Headquarters," ordered Dave. "I've never seen anything like this before."

"Hey. She's got something in her hand, clenched in her fist," said Larry. He removed a paper from her steely grip. "It's directions...To a restaurant in Orillia. That's only fifteen minutes away."

"Quick. Go grab Karl," said Dave. "He has to tell Headquarters to dispatch some cars there right away, before anyone leaves the premises. If they were supposed to be meeting anyone there we want them for questioning. This is so bizarre."

"Where could they be? They should have been here long ago," said Wendy, standing beside the people in the restaurant lineup waiting to get in.

"Maybe we should just line up, go inside, and order a drink while we're waiting," said Ryan.

"Look at this crowd. They wouldn't let us hold a table for four. I'm going across the street and call their home. I sure hope nothing's wrong," Wendy pouted with a frown.

"Of course not, what could be wrong. They probably got stuck in traffic. Hang on, I'll come with you. If I stand around here by myself I might get mugged," joked Ryan.

Wendy keyed in the number and let it ring. There was no answer. Just as she hung up the phone four control cars screeched to a halt, one after another, in front of the restaurant. Wendy and Ryan watched in horror as controllers stormed into the restaurant, herding up and taking all the people who were waiting in the lineup with them.

"We have to get out of here. NOW!" said Ryan.

"What's going on?" asked Wendy.

"I have no idea but we're not hanging around to find out," said Ryan.

"Where will we go?"

"Home. If we still can't get hold of Howard or Meg by then we'll phone Susan. Maybe she will know something we don't. Come on, let's move it," demanded Ryan.

On their way home traffic was snarled and they could see flashing lights ahead in the distance.

"Just keep calm. We'll get through this," assured Ryan.

As they got closer, Ryan and Wendy could see that a terrible accident had taken place.

"Oh, my God," cried Wendy. That's Meg and Howard's car."

"Don't stare. Just look straight ahead," said Ryan, by now quite paranoid. "They must have told on us. Said they were meeting us at the restaurant. Why else would the controllers be there? What are we going to do?"

"Meg would never tell on us. Neither would Howard. Not intentionally. God I hope they're alright. We have to phone Susan," said Wendy.

"And we can't go home. Not now. We'll go to Bradford and phone Susan. She'll know what we should do," hoped Ryan.

Back at the restaurant the controller's were taking everyone into the washroom in groups and making them remove their tops.

"They're all clean and no one knows either of these two Crehus," said a controller to the chief of the government detectives.

"All right look," said the Chief, talking about Howard and Meg when the restaurant had finally been cleared of patrons. "I want investigators sent out to their residence and places of employment. Everything in their residence must be gone over with a fine tooth comb. Anyone's name that is found must be thoroughly checked out, especially where their implant should be. At their workplaces, all employees must undergo immediate body searches for the same reason. These Crehus somehow found a way to remove their Dad Chips. No one must know about this. It is imperative that it be kept secret from the general population. I shall see the Prime Minister is informed at once. Carry on men."

Ryan and Wendy called Susan from a phone station in Bradford.

"Hello," answered Alice.

"Alice. It's Ryan. We need to talk to Susan. We are in terrible trouble."

"Goodness Gracious Ryan. What's going on?" asked Alice.

"Just get Susan. Please? Alice?"

Alice handed the receiver to Susan. "Yes Ryan. I'm here. What is it?"

"Susan. I'm sorry. We're in trouble. Wendy and I...We didn't know who else to turn to."

"Where are you?" asked Susan.

"We're at a call station just outside of The Smiling Shopper, in Bradford. We're in the parking lot by the Northwest entrance."

"Wait in your car. I'll be there in ten minutes," said Susan.

"We can't. Controllers might be looking for us. There is a small coffee house two blocks away. Java Joe's," said Ryan.

"Yes. I know it," replied Susan.

"We'll meet you there," said Ryan, hanging up in a hurry.

When Susan arrived she found Ryan and Wendy cowering in a remote corner of the coffee house.

"Gosh. I've never seen you too so shaken before. What's going on?"

"Howard and Meg were in a car accident. They were on their way to have dinner with us in Orillia. The restaurant we were supposed to meet them in was raided by controllers. We think they must have told on us," said Ryan.

"I don't think they did," said Wendy.

"A car accident? Why haven't I heard anything," said Susan.

"It's probably because they are all searching for us now," replied Ryan.

"When did the accident take place?" asked Susan.

"Around two to three hours ago I'd guess."

"Well that proves they didn't say anything or they would have already come looking for Alice and myself. Where did you say they were supposed to meet you?"

"At Jumping Jim's. It's a new establishment that just opened," said Ryan.

"Did they know how to get there?" asked Susan.

"I gave Meg directions and she wrote them down," said Wendy.

"Well that must be it of course. They must have found the directions and sent control cars to the restaurant to investigate. Never mind Jim," said Susan, referring to the name of the restaurant that they were supposed to meet Howard and Meg at, "you went jumping to conclusions Ryan. Shame on you," scolded Susan. "How bad did the accident look?"

"Very bad. It's possible that they might have been killed."

"I'm sure there will be something on the media news tonight."

"But the government must surely know about their missing Dad Chips. Why else would four control cars converge on the restaurant like that?" asked Ryan.

"I work with Meg. What if they send a controller out there to question me?" asked Wendy, very much afraid.

"You must both come home with me. Ryan you were right to leave your vehicle under these circumstances. You cannot return home until we find out more of what is going on. We had better leave now," said Susan.

That evening they all waited for news of the accident to appear on the media screen. Unbeknownst to them, the government had ordered a ban on any publication of the accident in order to avoid scaring away anyone that knew Howard and Meg. A thorough search of their home turned up nothing. A complete monitoring detection was done on all employees where Howard and Meg both worked. By Sunday afternoon, all employees at Howard's place of employment were accounted for. At Meg's work, they had not been able to get a response for Wendy.

It did not take the government long to determine that Wendy had previously been monitored in the past. Because nothing had turned up against her, and it had been more than three years ago, her monitoring file had been destroyed in order to free up needed storage space. They checked the data bank and found Ryan to be her partner. Checking Ryan, they found he did not register on the search monitor as well. A further check of employees where he worked turned up no other discrepancies.

On Sunday evening a government investigative team ransacked Ryan and Wendy's home in search of clues. Every inch of it was scoured to no avail. On Monday morning teams of controllers were sent to both their workplaces. Neither had shown up for work. Employees of both workplaces were grilled as to any individual knowledge they might possess about friends of Ryan and Wendy. Thankfully, being involved in a Family Support Group had taught both of them the meaning of secrecy in the workforce concerning their private lives. None of their workmates knew anything intimate about them and were of no assistance to the investigators. Ryan's abandoned car was found in Bradford late Monday afternoon.

That night a report went out on the media screen. On Sunday afternoon, the day before, Susan had left the house and contacted Timothy and Elaine, Paul and Hope, Monica, Rhonda and Eloise. She told them what was going on and that Ryan and Wendy were safe and in hiding. Susan stressed the importance to them of not being alarmed and to continue on as if nothing had happened. It was imperative that they do or say nothing or else everyone's life would be in danger. On Sunday evening she had been able to reach Dorrissa. Dorrissa would contact the others.

The media report that went out showed photos of both Ryan and Wendy. The government offered a reward of two hundred thousand dollars to anyone who could provide information leading to their whereabouts. The report stated that Ryan and Wendy had both been instrumental in the deaths of Howard and Meg.

It went on to say that Ryan and Wendy had both somehow found a way to temporarily jam the monitoring frequencies of their Dad Chips but that they would both be found eventually. Anyone found harboring the fugitives would be sentenced to Artic imprisonment. It is believed that they both are members of a Family Survival Group and anyone turning them in would not only receive the reward but receive an amnesty as well. When the report was finished, Susan turned to Ryan and Wendy.

"Does anyone know that you know me?" Susan asked.

"Only the people in our Support Group," replied Ryan.

"Thank God," praised Susan. "Well that settles it then. You'll both remain here in hiding until we can figure out how to smuggle you across the border. We are lucky that I'm so secluded here."

"Susan...I...I...don't know what to say," stammered Ryan.

"Oh hush dear boy," said Susan smiling. "I don't know two nicer people I could ever be cooped up with."

Chapter 12

Over the course of the weeks that followed no information on Ryan and Wendy's whereabouts had been forthcoming. Mr. Billarts, the Internal Prime Minister, called an emergency cabinet meeting that included Garry Taftling, the National Security Adviser, and demanded answers.

"Gentlemen. I'm sure you are well aware of the urgency that brings us here today. It has been almost two months since the disappearance of the Crehus known as Ryan 159B17 and Wendy 1249B19. I find their ability to avoid capture an embarrassment and deplorably unacceptable. By all accounts it is believed that they belong to a highly skilled and cunningly masterful Family Survival Group. The operation to remove their Dad Chips was done by a top notch medical practitioner. To have such a person involved in a Family Survival Group is completely ludicrous and morally unprecedented. They must be found...Every last one. Found and eradicated. Mr. Taftling. Do you have a report for us?" asked Mr. Billarts.

"Yes I do Prime Minister. As you know, a thorough door to door search of all residences in the nearby proximity where the suspect's car was found took place at the time with no favorable results. Rechecks for all Crehus previously monitored for suspect Family Survival Group involvement was also undertaken, of which nothing turned up. Furthermore, it has been established by leading medical specialists that the scars on the armpits of Howard 1173B20 and Meg 138B18, the two deceased car accident victims, were old and not recent.

The only thing known to us that can interfere with the Dad Chip monitoring device is lead. It is the opinion of experts that their Dad Chips were removed and destroyed in a lead enclosed room. It is possible that they were operated on outside of the country but we have come up with another theory."

"And what might that be Mr. Taftling?" asked the Prime Minister.

"There used to be an unused lead-lined storage facility, on the outskirts of Sudbury, designed to store radioactive waste. It sat vacant for decades. Right up until November 2149. It is now used for the storage of radioactive medical wastes. Incidentally, it is only a mile or so away from where that mysterious controller's death took place, approximately five years ago, which happened while that facility was still vacant."

"Do you believe his death to be connected to this somehow?"

"At this time Sir, we really don't know. There is one more thing. When the storage facility was first utilized that November, the lock belonging to the gate of the compound which enclosed the building was found to be broken."

"What? Why wasn't this reported?" howled Mr. Billarts.

"It was thought that a combination of age and pollution had corroded it. We've since determined that the lock could have received a blow by blunt force. Armed with this knowledge we sent in a forensics team donned in radiation prevention apparel to do a trace blood analysis of the building. But again, nothing turned up," stated Mr. Taftling.

"Too damn little! Too damn little, too damn late!" screamed Mr. Billarts.

"Excuse me Sir," said Mr. Taftling. "At the time of the controller's death we checked all motels and tourist areas in a one hundred mile radius. Neither of the suspect's names Ryan and Wendy, or the deceased Crehus, Howard and Meg, were on any guest registers. We are now in the process of expanding that search from the six months before the controller's death right up until the storage facility was occupied. I will let you know the minute I receive an update," said Mr. Taftling.

"Peter. Do you have anything to add to Garry Taftling's report?" asked Mr. Billarts.

"We've done a thorough border search of all four Crehu names at every point of departure in the country for the past ten years. All checks came up negative," said Mr. Robbuster.

"Very well gentlemen. Keep working on it. It sounds to me that Mr. Taftling's theory is not only plausible, but our best bet to date. Garry thank you for your report and now you may be excused as we have other matters to discuss. I'll wait to hear more from you A.S.A.P.," said Mr. Billarts.

"Yes Sir, Prime Minister," replied Mr. Taftling, before he left the cabinet room.

Back at home, Dorrissa and Jack had been following the government's investigative process daily on the media screen.

"Jack, I'm really worried. This whole affair has kept me on pins and needles each and every day. I'm terrified by the thought that everything is going to come crashing down on top of us," said Dorrissa.

"Try to relax Honey. You're not doing either of us any good feeling like that. It will all work out, you'll see," said Jack.

"I've destroyed the donor records for the children back at the birthing lab but the cell repository has a master file list of the donor names I requested. Howard and Meg and Ryan and Wendy's names are all on that list. Bruce and Becka's and the others are on it as well. Only yours and mine were doctored."

"What you did Dorrissa is so far off the wall that the government wouldn't even think of such a thing happening. Don't worry. We can ride this out together."

"But what if the government does find out? What if they went back a generation and found Steven's name? Or Susan's or Dr. Foxing's? All our plans would be discovered. I must find a way to get back into that cell repository and destroy those records. It's our only chance," said Dorrissa.

"That's too risky. The whole government is on red alert. You will only draw attention to us, rather than away from us. Besides, didn't you tell me that Michael, the repository manager, told you that you weren't welcome there anymore? I think it's best to leave well enough alone. It will all work out. Just have a little faith," said Jack.

Sloan stood naked before his mirror, hands on his chest, arms bent at the elbows as his fingers manipulated the skin on his torso.

"And what should we do today?" said Sloan, in a deep, husky voice.

"Whatever you'd like...As long as we're together that's all that matters," came the reply, also from Sloan, but this time in a high pitched, child's voice.

"Maybe you'd like me to touch you the way you like to be touched," said the deep voice, as Sloan smiled, and moved his right hand slowly across his naked body.

"You know I like that. I'll always like that," was the childlike reply.

The buzzer from the lobby sounded, startling Sloan back into the realm of reality. Whirling around in a feverish dervish, he stood gruesomely still, eyes ablaze. There, tattooed on his chest, was the picture of a young boy. It was a picture of Trent. Sloan had drawn it from memory and gotten a tattoo artist to reconstruct it down to the minutest detail. Trent would be with him always.

As the buzzer sounded a second time Sloan grabbed his bathrobe. He hurriedly flung it on as he cursed his way across the floor towards the intercom. Switching on the visuals he saw that it was Mr. Gadwinner, the new Justice Minister.

"Hello," said Sloan.

"Sloan. It's Berry Gadwinner. I'd like to come up and talk with you if I may. Are you alone?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. I was just about to jump in the shower. Let me go throw on some clothes. Here, I'll buzz you in. Come on up."

Quickly donning a pair of pants and a t-shirt, Sloan opened the door. "Well this is a surprise," he said, reminiscent of something that an old friend would say.

"It's strictly business I can assure you," said Mr. Gadwinner. "I just left the Prime Minister's office this afternoon and he instructed me to drop by to talk to you. The government is initiating the startup of a new investigative department. It will be a task force exclusively designed to track down and apprehend Crehus that have somehow managed to dismantle and deactivate their Dad Chips. Mr. Billarts would like your involvement in this. It will be a strictly covert operation made up of no more than two dozen undercover employees. Everything about this project is to remain top secret. Not a word of it must be allowed to leak to the media or reach the general public. The consequences of such a happening would be extremely ominous and the repercussions disastrous and unthinkable. Have I made myself clear?" asked the Justice Minister.

"Quite! What capacity does the Prime Minister see for me in such a role?"

"He would like you to head this task force."

Noticing the shock that had overtaken Sloan's smug expression, Mr. Gadwinner quickly added, "The Prime Minister has had professionals on this for almost four months now with nothing to show for it but misgivings and feigned apologies. Mr. Billarts desires action now and is simply disgusted with the remissness shown in the past. He seems to have a lot of faith in you and in your accomplishments. What do you say?"

"Well Mr. Gadwinner Sir, I say...When do we get started?"

"Monday afternoon there will be a briefing in my office. I have a shortlist of people who will be there and we shall interview them together and pick you a team of the brightest and the best. This new department will be known as the Care Force for all inter memo reports and you will report directly to me," said Mr. Gadwinner.

"The Care Force?" repeated Sloan, eyebrows broad-arched, in amazement.

"That's right. Crehu Apprehension Repression & Eradication," offered Mr. Gadwinner.

"I like it. The eradication part seems unequivocally enlightening," said Sloan.

"Precisely. Once apprehended they are to be terminated quickly and explicitly with no one else the wiser. I can see once again the Prime Minister has used his shrewd intellect to pick the right man for the job."

"Why Sir, I do thank you," smiled Sloan, maliciously, "for that astute observation. I've got a feeling this position is going to be right up my alley."

"Hmpt," chuckled Mr. Gadwinner. "I've got a similar feeling. What a strange coincidence," he smiled back. "Oh, by the way Sloan. When we're alone feel free to call me Berry. See you Monday, 12 p.m. sharp."

"I'll see you then Berry. Lookin' forward to it."

Closing the door and walking back over to his dresser Sloan laughed, whipped off his T-shirt, and smiled as he looked at the tattoo of Trent in the mirror.

"Yes we shall look forward to it won't we my boy," said Sloan, in a husky manner.

"I can hardly wait," the tattoo seemed to say, as Sloan, while speaking, moved his fingers in such a way as to make it look like it was talking.

"But first off we have some unfinished business don't we my Dearest?" propositioned the husky voice.

"I can hardly wait," replied the childlike voice, as Sloan, gently slid his right hand down his chest and into his pants while he stroked the face of the tattoo and caressed its image with his other hand.

The passage of time since Ryan and Wendy went into hiding had seen a marked change in Ryan's disposition.

"In two short weeks it will be New Year's," said Susan. "I can't believe how fast this year has gone by."

"For you maybe," said Ryan. "For us the last four months have been a nightmare."

"Ryan, don't talk like that," said Wendy, half heartedly.

"Well it is true isn't it? Hidden away like fugitives. Never being able to go out or do anything."

"But Ryan," said Susan. "That's precisely what you are. What we all are."

"Yes but you can come and go as you please. Wendy and I are stuck here, night and day, day after day. The government isn't looking for you...Or Alice for that matter."

"And where can we go, pray tell?" questioned Alice. "Out to the grocery store and back? Ever since you and Wendy have been here we have been unable to go anywhere. We can't even have people over because of you."

"Fine, we'll leave," said Ryan. "I'll get us across the border...Somehow."

"People, please!" interjected Susan. "I realize this isn't easy on any of us. All our nerves are frayed. It wasn't supposed to be like this but it is. That's the reality of it and we have to deal with it as best we can."

"That's easy for you to say. They're not looking for you. Do you know what it's like to sit around on pins and needles not knowing if, and when, a knock on the door could be right around the corner?" protested Ryan.

"Ryan how could you!" exclaimed Wendy, irrefutably upset by his statement. "Susan and Alice have both gone out of their way to take us in and protect us. They're in just as much danger as we are for having us here. If that knock on the door, Heaven forbid, ever came, do you think we'd be the only ones taken away?"

Looking very dejected, Ryan glanced down at the floor and scuffed his foot across the carpet. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's just sometimes I get so....so....Frazzled."

"That's understandable," said Susan. "No need to apologize. When the time is right, and it is safe to leave, Steven will let us know. Until then we must all be patient. God will watch over us. We all know that."

On Monday at noon, Sloan stepped off the elevator and proceeded to enter Mr. Gadwinner's office.

"Good morning Sloan. Good to see you're on time," said Berry.

"And a good morning to you too," replied Sloan. I spent all day yesterday thinking of how we could monitor the population to catch those Crehus that have so far managed to evade capture."

"And what have you come up with?"

"Simple," replied Sloan, with a grin. "We have to monitor the human population."

"How in blazes can we do that?" questioned the Justice Minister, completely flabbergasted by Sloan's uppity suggestion.

Sloan smiled an evil smile. "Got anything to drink here? I'm feeling a bit parched."

Mr. Gadwinner pulled out a half bottle of Crown Royal from his desk drawer along with two glasses and poured them both a liberal shot. Sloan was glad they were both what was once known as Liberals. A conservative shot would have been much smaller. Taking the glass eagerly, he downed its velvety smoothness in one fell swoop.

"Ahhh...," Sloan remarked. "You know how we monitor Crehus by using their Dad Chip implants?"

"Yes of course," replied Berry, unsure of what Sloan was getting at.

"We can monitor humans the same way and there are less of you," commented Sloan. "We get cameras and mount them at all the entrances and exits of public venues. Indoor shopping malls, food allocation centers, wherever people congregate in large masses. The cameras will be trained to take pictures of everyone who comes and goes that has no Dad Chip detected in their body. We shall have two members of our Care Force on location viewing all pictures as they come up on the screen. As we both know, all natural born humans are OLD," smiled Sloan, with emphasis on the word old. They look old. YOU look old," he added, with a chuckle.

Mr. Gadwinner shifted in his seat clearly perturbed by the reference to him.

"Anyone passing through those cameras," Sloan continued, "who does not look old will be our man...Or woman, as the case may be. At any rate, controllers will be called and quickly dispatched to all entrances and exits. The culprits shall be trapped, unable to get away. We know Ryan and Wendy were last seen in the Bradford-Barrie corridor so that is the area we shall use for a focal point. We can branch out from there over time," said Sloan, quite pleased with himself.

"Brilliant! Utterly brilliant," cried Berry. "A stroke of genius. I have often wondered what the Prime Minister saw in you but I shall wonder no more. I'm fast becoming a convert myself."

Sloan smiled. "There is one thing however," Sloan said, adamantly.

"What's that?" asked Berry.

"My present rank."

"Oh. Of course, I understand. You will be upgraded to an A+ for sure. And a big salary increase, including an expense account, goes along with all the other perks in this position as well," Mr. Gadwinner laughed.

"Actually," said Sloan, mouthing the word ever so slowly, "I was thinking of a higher rank than that. A person in my position, as leader of the Care Force, must be guaranteed the utmost respect and loyalty from his staff. He needs to hold the power to make things happen. The power of fear. To not only be feared by the law breaking Crehus, but to also be feared by his staff. I personally don't see that happening with only an A plus rating."

Mr. Gadwinner, clearly exasperated and perplexed, again shifted uneasily in his chair.

"But Sloan, it takes years to accumulate an A double plus rating. You're so young. It will never wash. I can try but...,"

"Actually," interrupted Sloan, this time not smiling, instead staring, with steely cold eyes as if penetrating the depths of Berry's brain, said, "I was thinking more in tune with an A triple plus rating!"

"Preposterous! Absurd!" bellowed Mr. Gadwinner. "Only cabinet ministers are given an A triple plus rating."

"Precisely," glowered Sloan. "I think that the Care Program is vital to the country. A program such as that is no less important than any other government department. It needs a Minister to head it. If you want it to be successful of course," replied Sloan.

"The Prime Minister will never hear of it," said Mr. Gadwinner.

"Well those are my terms for acceptance of this position. Take it or...," Sloan smiled, as he turned and started to walk away.

"I'll have to inform the Prime Minister. Prime Minister Billarts," blurted out Berry.

"By all means," replied Sloan, not bothering to turn around as he strode out of the Justice Minister's office.

Prime Minister Billarts sat in his chair thinking profusely after his conversation with Berry Gadwinner. He thought of all the ideas that Sloan had come up with in the short tenure that he had known him. A triple 'A' cabinet minister by only their twenty fifth year of creation was unheard of. That would indeed be a desperate measure. However, in desperate times you need to resort to desperate measures. With this in mind, Prime Minister Billarts decided to grant the cheeky but illustrious Sloan his terms and proceeded to put a different spin, for the public's perception, on his new ministerial department. It would be called the Care Program.

Administered by Sloan 2168A+++36, it would be presented to the country as a brand new department dealing with the care and welfare of Crehus. It would be a gentle department, a caring department. A department that would seek out and help misguided Crehus, converting them back to responsible productive citizens. The Department of Care would disallow them from mistakenly leading the righteous among us down the wrong path towards pain and sorrow.

Never mind that its main purpose would still be for Crehu Apprehension Repression & Eradication. Only a certain chosen few in the government needed to know that. When Prime Minister Billarts announced the new ministerial department, along with its head, Jack and Dorrissa had been watching a program on the media screen which was interrupted for this specific purpose. They were in a state of mild shock by the time the announcement had ended.

"How could this be? Jack, how is this possible?" cried Dorrissa. "Sloan heading a department? A government cabinet minister? A department called Care? For the care of the country?" Dorrissa choked on her words.

Jack, sitting in stunned silence, finally said, "It's not for the care of the country you can be sure of that. It's for the care of the government of which their agenda is, and always has been, opposite to the good of the country. It will be self serving, invented I'm sure for their own political aspirations."

"But Sloan, Jack, Sloan!" exclaimed Dorrissa.

"I know, the most dangerous adversary of ours that there is. If we could afford to make any little mistakes before, we most certainly cannot afford to make even the slightest one now," said Jack. "When are the children due for exchange to the Morningside Child Rearing Center?"

"Not for another year at the earliest," replied Dorrissa.

"I've got a gnawing hunch that date should be moved up."

"I can't. It would look too suspicious," said Dorrissa, biting down on her lip in anguish.

"You need to find a way Dorry. You can do it. And you need to find it now."

Dorrissa contacted Bruce the next morning. He had heard of the new government department also and understood completely Jack's harboring fears, but was adamant that to do anything now would be rash and draw unwanted attention to them. Especially where Gail was concerned he believed. Dorrissa shuddered in agreement. It was mutually decided to wait for a more opportune time.

The year slowly drew to a close and the government Year's End holiday, being New Year's, had finally arrived Steven and Shelly had invited Jack & Dorrissa, Bruce & Becka, and Susan & Alice all up for the holiday. Everyone had come. Sitting around the crackling fire in a jovial mood, Alice, usually quiet but now unreserved, blurted out, "So tell us Dorrissa. How did you and Jack meet?"

With a twinkle in her eye and a grin a mile wide, Dorrissa said, "Oh you don't want to hear that old story again."

"But I've never heard it!" exclaimed Alice.

"Oh, come on," squealed Becka, "I love hearing it."

"We met at a government function," said Jack, jumping in. "She was the prettiest girl in the room and I made a beeline straight for her."

"LIKE DUCKS!" Dorrissa yelled. "I saw you earlier on. You were trying to hit on Miss Skin & Bones but she wasn't having anything to do with you."

Jack chuckled.

"Well," he drawled, "I guess it was her loss now, wasn't it?" and smiled.

"You bet it was," exclaimed Dorrissa. "And my gain. I've never owed anyone so much before," she added, happily looking into Jack's eyes.

"And did he kiss you...That first night?" persisted Alice.

"Yes he did," Dorrissa beamed, "and he caught me by surprise. I thought by the way we were talking that things were casual. That perhaps I had met myself a good, future friend. But during those kisses, and yes there were more than one, I could feel my knees buckling. I remember thinking, oh My Government, what is happening? I was confused to say the least...Taken by surprise. He invited me on a date to go swimming at a nearby beach the following week and we said goodnight.

"I couldn't help thinking all the way home, where would this lead? What are his intentions? For the next few days I didn't hear a word from him. I wondered even more. I mean, if a man likes you, you would expect him to call, right? Anyway, Jack had given me his call center number as well as his e-mail address. He had told me I could contact him at hotmail.com since he was a Hot Male. Perhaps feeling a little intimidated, or shy, or both, I..."

"It's a girl thing," blurted out Jack, in interruption, quite taken with his part in the story.

"Shh!" was everyone's reply.

"Anyway," Dorrissa began again, "I e-mailed my hot male, figuring that was the easiest way to contact him. I didn't want my knees buckling again from just hearing the sound of his voice," she laughed. "I asked him exactly what he had in mind for this date he had proposed. You know what I mean," said Dorrissa, matter of fact.

"My turn," said Jack. "If I remember correctly... (Dorrissa's eyes suddenly widened appropriately)...And I do," Jack continued, flashing that magical smile of his. "I sent Dorry a reply e-mail, pretty much to this effect:

"Hello Dorrissa. I just finished reading your e-mail. So you are wondering my intentions. Honorable I assure you. I have never before been, or ever will be, physically intimate with a woman that I have not found to be totally captivating in body, mind and soul. Where will it lead? Who is to say? Could you end up getting hurt? Could pain and anguish lie ahead? Hopefully not. For either of us.

"There have been times in my life when I myself, believe it or not, have been on the receiving end of pain and anguish. But what of joy and exuberance? Are all emotions not a part of life? It is true that we can stay inside, emotionally speaking. Live our life in a little box, never opening the door, never venturing outside. But is that living? When all is said and done, is that how we want to remember our life? Is that how we want to be remembered? Safe and sterile? Dull and uneventful?

"We all want the joys and happiness that life can bring but unfortunately, in their accumulation, we are also visited with sadness and despair. Life teaches us to rise above it. Leave the valleys and climb the mountains. Then I said," Jack went on...

"The torch I pass to you Dorrissa. When we meet again, it shall be you who will take charge of what happens. If we advance to the next hurdle of a relationship, that will be terrific. However, if we are to remain but friends, then friends it shall be. By your words and actions, mannerisms and body language, I shall adjust my responses accordingly. It's your move, Dear."

Everyone was silent...Waiting...

"I think that's what I said, more or less," finished Jack.

All the time he was talking, Dorrissa's gaze never left Jack's face; and the love for him, in her heart, was all over hers.

"And then when you met again? When Dorrissa came for the swimming date? What happened then?" continued Alice.

"Darned if I can remember," stated Jack.

"Oh Jack! You are incorrigible!" exclaimed Dorrissa.

Jack laughed.

"When we met to go swimming, Dorry gave me the longest, most passionate, sexiest kiss that I had ever received in my entire life."

"Good answer," said Dorrissa. "Now who wants to put another log on the fire?"

"That's so romantic," said Alice.

"The love in that story reminds me of the way I feel about Steven," said Shelly.

"Hey Dad," said Bruce. "How did you ever end up in politics?"

"Well hide my keyboard, that is a long story indeed," said Steven.

"C'mon, that's what nights by the fireside are for," ventured Becka.

"Hmm," muttered Steven. "I guess it all began when I was quite young. My grandfather used to tell me stories about when he was a little boy. Life was just starting to change he said. There were not many children in the neighborhood, or any neighborhood for that matter, where he grew up. Most of the homes consisted of couples only or people living alone.

"My grandfather told me that when he was a teenager, he had heard a group of adults talking one day. They had put the blame of family decline directly upon women. They said it could be traced right back to the woman's liberation movement of the 1960's. Women had wanted equality and that is exactly what they got. They wanted to be out of the home and be given the opportunity to go into the workforce to live life equal to a man. With the government's help, by promising them their vote, it wasn't too long before they got what they had wished for and were stuck. They just didn't know it. Women had forever lost their traditional place in the home. After a while, the average man's salary didn't seem to keep pace with inflation. It didn't need to, employers felt, since men usually had a working wife to help supplement it. Where once it was possible for a man to raise a family with his single paycheck alone, it soon became impossible. The majority of woman could stay home no longer.

"This not only led to smaller families with fewer children being born overall, but the majority of the children ended up being looked after by hired caregivers. Some of the caregivers were atrocious. Passing on bad habits and instilling vile beliefs upon young, impressionable children. On the other hand there were some excellent caregivers as well. The children that they looked after loved and bonded with them as much as, and in some cases more than, their natural parents.

"When the time came for them to start school, these children were taken away from their caregivers by their parents and they almost always never saw them again. To the parents the caregivers were a business arrangement, just a means to an end. They were not family or friends and therefore not relevant. But by their attachment to these children they had been the third and, in many cases, the most significant parent. Children usually spent more weekly hours with their caregivers than their own flesh and blood parents. To be taken away from these caregivers, after perhaps spending the first five years of their lives with them, was a heart wrenching and traumatic experience that most children never got over. Many grew up with the inability to form healthy, loving attachments and relationships.

"And so, a large number of children raised in both good and bad caregiver situations achieved puberty to become misguided and delinquent youth. The government eventually moved in to control all aspects of daycare but the damage was done and fewer and fewer children being born were a direct result." Steven paused while he searched his thoughts.

"What's that got to do with you entering politics though?" asked Jack.

"Just hang on, I'm getting to it," said Steven. The most memorable and happiest of times, in my grandfather's life, was when he was at school. He was thrilled to be around so many children his own age. He would have to be bused there of course. Most of the country's schools were not needed and had been shut down. Anyway, at the same time, grandfather had to be careful. Many of those children were mean and destructive. Many came from dysfunctional homes. We all know society has laws. Rules and laws," said Steven.

"Way too many." interjected Jack.

"Well...Schools had their own set of laws," Steven continued. "A zero tolerance policy was one of the first, which was aimed at ridding the schools of bullies. There was mixed reaction among students and staff, including the general public, as to whether or not it was an effective, preventive measure.

"As time went on however, it was finally determined that the bullying and violence, destruction of public property with widespread gang member graffiti and vandalism, had just ventured underground. It was still happening, indeed more so, just harder to catch. The hooligans were just becoming smarter and more extreme in their actions. Anyway, I'm getting off track here," said Steven.

"Again?" offered Jack.

"Shh," said Becka.

Steven smiled.

"My grandfather picked out a small crowd of friends and they were to become his strength...His Island in a stream. As he grew older, getting closer to matriculation, he found that the majority of his close friends had decided to apprentice in the trades program that schools offered to their students. At that time my grandfather was young, he had said, and possibly a bit immature also. He was definitely not worldly. At any rate, he had an interview with a school guidance counselor. This was a person who saw students, their job being to help guide them towards an appropriate career path. Back then teenage children were allowed to make their own choice as to how their lives would proceed. It was the complete opposite of today. I'm drifting again, aren't I," said Steven.

"No you're fine, go on," replied everyone in unison.

"Anyway, this guidance counselor told my grandfather that he was very academically inclined and that he should envision a career with university in mind. Possibly even becoming a teacher, the counselor suggested. My grandfather liked that idea. He envisioned himself as a History and possibly a Physical Education teacher. He had always enjoyed History. And English. Perhaps he'd be an English teacher also. He could instruct children and be instrumental in turning their lives around.

"But it was not to be. My grandfather ended up choosing technical studies along with his friends and graduated from an automotive mechanics program. The interesting thing was," smiled Steven, "he never became an auto mechanic. Auto mechanics were expected to buy all their own tools and my grandfather didn't like the idea of having a good portion of his weekly pay check go towards this necessity. Through chance and circumstance, he ended up becoming a printer. But he always wondered, what if, what if?

"By the time I came along, my grandfather had long been retired. He was not an old man by any means but had been lucky and found himself a good job that offered early retirement with a full pension after thirty years service. Some people found that very enticing. My grandfather certainly did. He said he always enjoyed telling anyone who cared to listen that under the circumstances, he thinks he can work there for thirty years.

"And he did. He went on to collect a pension from his company for over forty years."

"Wow! Forty years. Didn't he get bored?" asked Bruce.

"Heavens no. He said his dreams would always keep him going."

"His dreams?" wondered Becka.

"That's right," said Steven. "My grandfather had a theory that when a person's life slowed down a might, and became a tad uninteresting, the dreams they had at night would be full of excitement and suspense. The opposite, really hectic and busy days, would find a person waking up the next morning not remembering their dreams, which meant they had been dull and peaceful. This enabled a person to keep healthy checks and balances in their day-to-day waking life. When my grandfather first retired and days were rather slow in comparison to the job he left, he would dream he was at work two or three times a week. These gave him the excitement his mind missed and craved for and the dreams lasted for a year or more before they began to wane. Grandfather believed this subconscious activity eased him into a gradual retirement and helped him to live such a long, healthy, and happy life. Needless to say, he had an enormous number of exciting dreams in his declining years," Steven laughed.

"His father before him, my great grandfather in fact, used to be a tobacco smoker. Long before it was banned. But he knew it was bad for him back then. So he quit. Just like that. Cold Turkey they called it. For years after, he would always dream about smoking. He would get so mad with himself for starting again he would wake up in the middle of the night. Then he would be so relieved to find out that it was all just a dream. Great Grandfather smoked in his dreams for years. He never started the vile habit for real again though. He told my granddad that he got enough of it at night, in his sleep. He lived to be ninety-eight. Yup, there definitely is something about a man's dreams keeping him healthy.

"But Jack is looking a bit restless so let me get back to the story of how I became a politician."

"I am not. That story about dreams was right on. I find the same thing happens to me. Unfortunately I can not, for the life of me, remember the last time I woke up and been able to remember what I had dreamt the night before," said Jack, with a sorrowful pout.

After the laughter died down, Bruce stood up and gave Jack a light slap across his back and said, "That's okay Bro, plenty of years left for those exciting, old man dreams. Hey Pop. What have you been dreaming about lately?" Bruce kidded.

"Never you mind you saucy whipper-snapper," smiled Steven.

The laughter continued.

"Now if I may finish," said Steven, as he clapped his hands hard twice together. "As he grew older, my grandfather saw many changes in society that were not to his liking. He impressed upon me the importance of accountability as I grew to be a man also. Grandfather told me that as individuals we all have unique gifts. If we made wise choices in our lives we can live to see these gifts blossom to fruition. My grandfather pined that he had not become a teacher. I thought to myself, what could I do? What profound change could I instill upon humanity? What difference could my unique gifts bring? As I looked around, and began to see more and more changes in our country that worried my grandfather to no end, I knew then that I was destined for politics. That was the only way I could truly help the masses. By halting and then reversing these changes. But the trend for change was too strong and I failed," said Steven.

"Bullshit!" shouted Jack. "Fail my ass! As External Prime Minister you did so much good for this entire planet. Your name is revered, far and wide, the world over."

"Perhaps, but it was in my own country that I hoped and prayed to be able to make a positive change. Here in Canada."

"You can't fault yourself for that. Prime Minister Trandlore held the reigns of power here and hold onto them tightly he did," said Jack.

"You tried," said Bruce.

"You did your best," added Dorrissa, "and there is certainly nothing to be ashamed about that."

"Steven," said Becka. "When you were talking of your grandfather growing up I presume he lived with his parents in a home that was part of a community?"

"Yes Becka, he did."

"How is it that people allowed themselves to be removed from their homes and sent to live in government spaces?"

"I can answer that," said Susan. "When I was a girl I also had grandparents. They lived in a community north of our city center called the G.T.A. There were many problems with the way old fashioned municipal planning boards had designed communities that I remember my grandparents talking about.

"Car pollution was one of the worst. Everyone had their own car. Traffic jams, ozone pollution, greenhouse gases, accidents, road rage and lack of public transit were all problems that were becoming worse with no viable solution in sight. Then there was the garbage issue. The government used to dump garbage in landfill sites. It was only a matter of time before our population's greatly increased consumption needed more and bigger dumps. Some people wanted incinerators built to burn it. Others, calling themselves environmentalists, screamed pollution. At one time garbage was being trucked south to the United States border and dumped over there at exorbitant cost."

Everyone shook their heads as Susan continued.

"There were other seemingly unsolvable problems as well. Taxes kept skyrocketing as a result. Many people were being forced from their homes and had to resort to rental accommodation. Almost always to be found in high rise apartment buildings. Since private enterprise was not building enough of these to keep pace, the government took over and built geared to income apartment complexes. This was the start of modern day spaces as you now know them.

"But at the same time, a new term was being introduced by the government. It was called 'housing pollution'. Too many single family homes were being built and occupied by single people only. Or by couples who had no plan whatsoever of having children. Formerly called urban sprawl, a greenbelt was designated to help control this twenty-first century phenomenon thus preserving small areas of farming, woodlots and other undeveloped lands from speculators and land developers. Certain areas of the country were classified as city centers and were targeted for high access growth. This meant the building of living units had to grow up, instead of out, thus taking in higher concentrations of the population into their communities.

"Things finally got to the point where government decided it was time to reclaim the land. More government controlled buildings were built in these new city centers and people would be removed from their homes. A program such as this however had to start off slowly and inconspicuously. The government was already purchasing and taking possession of homes that were being foreclosed due to unpaid taxes and bankrupt mortgages. Next on their agenda, the government began to purchase homes that were put up for sale by their owners because of lack of affordability due to loss of employment income, or forever rising property taxes. With a twist though. Money paid to the homeowners would go into a special account for them that was managed and maintained by the government. These people would then be transferred to a government owned and operated apartment complex where they would receive a government stipulated monthly income from their account to live on. From this amount, rent and utilities would be deducted. People having this type of income were denied all government benefits such as old age security or government pension plans, drug plans, transit passes, etc. until their government account had been depleted," said Susan.

"That's right," agreed Steven. "That's how it started. But there was more needed to be done for the government to realize its objective. There were still people living in homes that the government wanted removed. Foreclosure was one method and expropriation was another means that was tried and true.

"It was decided that a new government bylaw department would be formed to patrol the neighborhood looking for lawbreakers. In times previous to these, people would be fined upon conviction of breaking town or city bylaws. Now they would be forced to go to what was called Bylaw School.

"A first offense would see lawbreakers being charged and they would receive a notice to appear in court. If found guilty, which always seemed to be the case, a fine was proclaimed and you were required to attend Bylaw School at your own expense. Failure to attend would result in the foreclosure of your home by the government.

"A second conviction under government bylaws would mean a definite seizure of your home with proceeds going into a government account in your name and you being sent to live in a government apartment complex. As more and more complexes were being built, and the units themselves kept getting smaller and smaller, they were soon known as GOVERNMENT SPACES.

"Of course any money left in their government accounts after death would be confiscated by the government. Examples of bylaw infractions of which people could be charged were illegal parking, littering, pesticide application, illegal water usage during water bans, improper separation of garbage recyclables, inadequate smoke or carbon monoxide detectors and excessive noise just to name a few. There were many, many more," said Steven. "They seemed to make them up as they went along."

"My grandparents told me of a person who lost his house because someone had stolen his house number and it was the law for it to be displayed in a prominent place," said Susan. "The man swore to everyone who would listen that he was sure the bylaw officers had done it themselves."

"The government wanted everyone out Susan," said Steven. "They made their decision and it was simply a matter of following through on it, however devious it might be."

"Who's for a refill?" asked Shelly, ever the diplomat.

After refreshing their drinks and Shelly's placement of munchies, the conversation turned to the young Crehus.

"How are our children coming along?" asked Susan.

"Growing like weeds," replied Dorrissa, smiling.

Ever since Sloan had been named Minister for Care, visitation to the Wycliffe Child Rearing Center had been wisely curtailed. There was definitely no need to increase the special interest Sloan had previously shown for Dorrissa's complex in the past. Both Susan and Steven had visited a few times over the past couple of years but now prudence deemed it verboten. Even though Bruce had an exchange group of young Crehus there, he too had severely restricted his visitations. Dorrissa managed in the past to take secretive digital shots from her camera for the others but now even this had been terminated.

For the past few years, the exchange groups between Wycliffe and Morningside had been decreasing in age and purposely so. It had been initially planned to make the switch with the children in their seventh year of creation. But because of Ryan and Wendy being forced into hiding, and the need to help them escape the country, it had been decided a few months previously to move it up and remove them during their fifth year of creation. This would be mid October, 2155. Ten more months of meticulous planning remained and all were counting down the weeks as they passed, waiting as patiently as possible for October to arrive.

Sloan was, by now, in clear control of a hand picked and highly motivated government department. Just before the Year's End holiday, he had managed to finish his placement of hidden monitor cameras at all entrances and exits of five large indoor malls and food allocation centers in the Bradford-Barrie area. Although still in the initial trial period, and only two weeks old, Sloan believed it to be a mere formality before his idea was proven tried and true. Only Sloan's department and the government cabinet ministers knew of the cameras implementation.

It was the morning of Sunday Jan. 3, 2155, and Ryan tossed and turned in his sleep. Still hung over from the night before, the months of hiding and waiting had been eating away at his soul. In portentous torment he awoke. Heavily perspiring, with indubitable stupor, he made his way downstairs while Wendy remained fast asleep. The sun was just cresting above the trees as he squinted from a small opening in the curtains. A real watermelon sky, he hazily thought to himself. Then he spied it. Susan's spare car, beckoning. Calling out to him as if to say, drive me, drive me.

Careful not to wake Wendy, Ryan showered and got dressed. Just a short drive, he thought, to get a cup of coffee. I'm going stir crazy here. Wendy would never let me go if she were up. Maybe I can get back before she wakes? Just in case I'll leave her a note. She's bound to get exited when she sees the Canada Tim's double-double that I bring back for her. That's something we've both been missing, but not today. Not the last day of the Year's End holiday weekend. As he slipped behind the wheel Ryan sighed to himself. A quick check to make sure he had his identity card partially obscured and he was off. With all the people wandering around today they'll never notice me, he thought. Freedom at last!

Ryan slowly pulled into a Canada Tim's donut and coffee shop to avoid attention. It was just past nine. Once inside, he ordered a coffee and a cruller before proceeding to a window seat to watch the world go by. An additional cup of java later and he noticed that it was now almost ten. The mall opens then, he reckoned to himself. That's only ten minutes away. Hmm, Wendy's probably still sleeping seeing as how late we stayed up last night. It doesn't matter. I left her a note. I haven't been to the mall in such a long time. I haven't been anywhere in such a long time. Maybe I could buy her a present? I can't use my card. Do I have enough cash? Sure I do. We never did make it to that restaurant. But it wouldn't do to get to the mall too early. Hey I know. I could walk. It's just a little more than an hour. Fiddle-dee-dee fiddle-dee-da, I can use the exercise anyway ha, ha, ha. There should be a good size crowd there by the time I arrive, he decided, and so, Ryan left the coffee shop and pushed off on foot for the mall. He would come back later to retrieve Susan's car.

It was nearly eleven thirty by the time Ryan reached the mall. Wendy had already gotten up and read the note and was now in panic mode. She sat by the window, on pins and needles, while she waited for his return.

Ryan entered the large mall briskly, with a slew of other people. Unbeknownst to him, his identity had been captured. A small booth on the main floor, in the back of a storefront, held two Care department workers whose job it was to sift through the snapped photos. All natural human beings that had never had a Dad Chip installation, as they were termed, were of a noticeably older age. A bit of light banter between the two Care workers had led to their initial miss of Ryan as he entered the building. A subsequent review of pictures taken had elucidated him quite verifiably to them.

The proper procedures that Sloan had devised were now carried out. First and foremost, he was to be notified. Secondly, undercover controllers were to be dispatched to close off entrances and exits to the parking lots and to seek out and secure the person or persons. If, in the event, the controllers were unable to locate and capture their prey, the malls siren would be inundated throughout causing the crowd to disperse to their nearest exit. Uniformed controllers would be stationed at these exits to assist in orderly evacuations.

Once captured, people could then return to the mall with the comfort of knowing that they had helped take part in a successful fire drill. Ryan, who was now hidden away in the back of a bookstore, was completely unaware that a group of marauding controllers were fervently in pursuit of him. It was now past twelve and Sloan had arrived. There was still no sign of Ryan and Sloan was becoming extremely anxious. He let loose a verbal onslaught of abuse, directed at the two workers, for allowing Ryan to become intermingled with the crowd.

Plain clothes controllers, in order to thin out the crowd, had begun ordering people to leave the mall orderly and quietly. It was while Sloan was deciding if he should implement the mall's siren, when Ryan departed from the book store. He had made a purchase, a gift for Wendy. Called, The Things in Life that Fulfill my Needs, it seemed to be a fluff government piece of propaganda written by some obscure writer. Ryan had purchased it for a joke. Looking up as he came out of the store, he noticed fewer people walking around than before. This was definitely not normal for that time of day during the biggest holiday sale weekend of the year. He was on the second floor of the mall and decided it was high time to be on his way.

Walking toward the down escalator he observed two men just getting off the up one. They saw him at the exact same time he saw them. Ryan turned around and hurried his step. They followed. Ryan could smell controllers a mile away. The jig was up. Somehow they had found him. What an impatient fool he had been he thought, full of remorse. Everyone's life was now in danger...Because of him. Wendy, the woman he loved more than life itself. As well as friends, that trusted him with their utmost secret. If only he had listened.

"Hey you, just a minute," yelled one of the controllers.

Ryan stepped over the second floor railing that overlooked the marbled, mezzanine floor, thirty feet below.

"Wait, don't do it! We just want to talk to you!"

It was too late.

Ryan released his grip. Not just on the railing but on his life as well. He said a prayer as he fell to his death. A prayer for forgiveness and understanding from God, and the woman he loved, by the taking of his own life for the protection of the others.

Sloan was furious. He had wanted to capture Ryan alive. All well and good that he was dead but Sloan envisioned himself as being the one to have actually made it happen. But that wasn't all. He had desperately wanted Ryan to undergo intensive interrogation in order to expose his compatriots. There was also one other problem. This suicide was much too public. Hundreds had witnessed it. The whole and exact truth of the matter needed to be ensconced from the general population. It was much too early for them to find out about his method for catching Crehus who had figured out a way to remove their Dad Chip and, above all else, the public must never know that their Dad Chip could be removed.

"Oh Shit," Sloan said under his breath. The other Ryan, the Crime Channel host, was walking towards him looking for an interview.

"Excuse me Minister? Can you tell me what went on here this afternoon?" asked Ryan. "Just one moment please Sir," he said to Sloan. Am I in focus? Can we go ahead?" he asked his cameraman. "Alright, thank you...Hello Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Ryan 1342N20, bringing you...Live...On the spot...Ground breaking news...At Kempenfelt Mall. I have here standing before me the Honorable Sloan 2168A+++36 Minister of Care. Can you tell me what happened here this afternoon, Minister?" asked Ryan, in his very best camera persona.

Thinking of Jack's long ago days before the camera, Sloan smiled at the serendipity of it all.

"Your namesake just did a swan dive off the railing on the second floor. So you might want to rephrase your opening line as, Dead on the spot...Body breaking news," quipped Sloan.

"Wha...Wha...What do you mean?" stuttered Ryan, clearly at a loss for words. This being a first for him, amused Sloan to no end.

"For the past few months," Sloan went on, "we have had certain premises under surveillance in order to catch a pair of Crehus we believe to be directly involved in the murder of two other Crehus last fall. My men were just closing in on one of them when he apparently panicked and jumped to his death. His name was Ryan also," offered Sloan, in a half smiling grimace. "He has a partner named Wendy and it's only a matter of time before we catch her as well.

"The outside parking lot has been cordoned off and all persons and vehicles leaving will be duly noted. One vehicle should be left in that lot when everyone is gone. Wendy could be sitting in it now. If she is, we have her. If he came alone, we shall trace the vehicle he used back to its starting point. It's only a matter of time. Just a matter of time," smiled Sloan.

Steven, Shelly and their guests had been outside enjoying the crisp clean air of the festive season when Shelly heard their telecommunication device.

"I'll get it," Shelly said with alacrity. Within seconds she had vaulted back through the door. "Come quick," Shelly screamed. "Please, come quick!"

All came running.

It was Wendy. Susan had given her Steven's contact number which was to be used in a dire emergency situation only. Wendy was in hysterics, half mumbling, half shouting, in an incoherent and stentorian manner.

"Crime Channel, she said Crime Channel," shouted Becka as she scrambled for the media screen.

"Quick, turn it on," said Steven.

Watching in utter abhorrent shock, everyone stood transfixed by the scene taking place. At the same time they tried their best to instill some calm upon Wendy who was an emotional wreck.

"If I leave right now I should be able to get there in less than three hours," said Susan.

"I'll drive," offered Jack.

"You'll do nothing of the sort young man. No need to put any more of our group at risk. Alice can drive me fine. Wendy? Can you here me Dear?" asked Susan. "Alice and I are leaving here and coming for you now. Just hold tight. We will be there as fast as we can. It should not be much more than three hours. Please try and calm down. We are on our way."

Between stifling sobs, Wendy acknowledged Susan's plea.

"They will be looking for your car Susan. They will trace it back to you. It might even be too late as we speak," said Steven.

"All the time we've spent together during these past four years and it seems you still don't know me, Mr. Laurence. I'm going and that is that!" replied Susan.

"I know you are," said Steven. Once you arrive grab Wendy and get the heck out of there as fast as you can. You'll come back here. This will be your new home now."

Dorrissa could see tears forming in the corner of Susan's eyes.

"Thank you so much Steven. Thank you ever so much."

"Hey...We're a family," replied Steven giving Susan a hug. "That's what families are for."

"All the time we've spent together during these past four years and it seems that it is I who do not know You, Steven," said Susan, smiling.

"Forget it," said Steven, aw-gosh-shucks-like. "Lot's of time for doing that later. We've still got a date to go to a Synachurch together, remember?"

"I'll hurry back as fast as I can," said Susan.

"And I'll make sure we are not followed," added Alice, as the two women left.

"Jack, Dorrissa...Bruce, Becka...I want you to leave now also. There is no sense in taking any unneeded chances," reasoned Steven.

"How do you think they found Ryan?" asked Bruce.

"I'm not sure," replied Steven. "But I still have a few contacts in government and I will try a subtle maneuver to see if I can find out the answer. I'll talk to you as soon as I find out anything. Oh, and Bruce," said Steven. "I think Jack is bang on. If there is any chance at all that you and Dorrissa could move up the kids departure date, I think this recent turn of events calls for serious consideration in that regard. It's getting much too dangerous around here."

"I totally agree with you," said Bruce.

After the others left Steven and Shelly sank down into the couch together.

"I'm getting really worried," said Shelly.

"You'll have to put off your worry for now my Dear," Steven replied with a hug. "We must think of getting the lodge ready to accommodate the children," he added, along with a peck on the cheek for encouragement.

"Excuse me Sir. Call for you. It's the Prime Minister!"

Sloan reached out and grabbed the phone. Would it be accolades or diatribes he thought to himself.

"Hello Sir," said Sloan, coolly.

"Bloody Hell, we lost him!" bellowed Mr. Billarts.

"Yes Sir," agreed Sloan.

"So what's the status? Are there any leads to his partner...Or to anyone else?

"We've cleared the parking lot Sir and the only vehicles left in it are all accounted for. The remainder belongs to employees and guards at the mall. We did find a set of keys in his pocket belonging to an Americar. It shall take a bit of time but I have men that are hunting down that vehicle as we speak and I'm confident that we will find it," said Sloan.

"It was an excellent idea those cameras Sloan. You have come through again for us, for our government. I want this program expanded to a wider area wherever Crehus gather in significant numbers. At malls, food allocation centers, transportation hubs, workplaces, etc. etc. They can cower but they cannot hide," Mr. Billarts elucidated, quite pointedly.

"Exactly Sir," replied Sloan. "We shall hunt down and extirpate every last one. I'm right on it."

"Good! Let me know A.S.A.P. of any further breakthroughs," demanded Mr. Billarts.

"Indubitably," Sloan answered assiduously.

Susan and Alice were driving along and were in close proximity to their home when Alice exclaimed, "Goodness Gracious. Isn't that our car?"

"Where?" asked Susan.

"Back there. We just passed it. It was in the Canada Tim's coffee shop parking lot."

"Turn around," ordered Susan. "Let's stop there for a coffee and discreetly check it out. If Ryan left the car here before venturing to the mall, for whatever reason, and considering the distance we are from the mall, there is a good chance the government is unaware of its whereabouts. It might not be a bad idea to call Wendy either if it looks safe to do so," said Susan.

Alice turned the car around and made her way back to the coffee shop. There was a public call center stationed on the premises. With everything around them looking fine, Susan called Wendy. She let it ring once then hung up. Then she called again. This being their signal, Wendy now picked up the phone.

"Wendy. It's Susan. Is it safe to talk?"

"Yes."

"Alice and I are at a coffee shop not far from home. The car Ryan took is parked here. Alice just happened to see it by chance, as we were passing. Do you know anything at all about why it would be here?"

"Yes Susan." Wendy struggled through her sobs. "Ryan left me a note saying he knows that he shouldn't, but he is taking the spare set of keys for the car and going out to grab us a coffee from there. He said he wouldn't be long and was leaving the note just in case I awoke, so I would not worry. Oh Susan," cried out Wendy. "What did he do? What did he do?"

"The urge for him to get out must have been too irresistible to defeat. The lure of the mall I suppose, being so close, he succumbed to it. If only I hadn't left those extra keys hanging up," lamented Susan.

Alice, who was standing right next to her, said, "Now don't you go blaming yourself. You can't be responsible for other people's actions."

Quickly shaking off her feeling of guilt, Susan said, "We'll never know in Heaven's name what made him decide to leave the car here but it seems to be divine providence. Alice has the other set of keys right here with her so I shall follow her back with our other car. I was very leery of even venturing towards it at first. But now, after talking to you about Ryan's note, I am most certain that the government is unaware of its presence here as yet. If it was not redeemed before tomorrow morning it would surely be discovered. Praise the Lord. Alice and I will just grab a coffee so as not to look suspicious here and we shall be home in a few shakes of a bird's tail feathers," said Susan.

"Hurry, please hurry," pleaded Wendy.

"Yes Dear," Susan promised as she hung up the phone.

"Leonard. How are you doing? This is Steven."

"Yes Steven. I recognized your voice. How are you? How is Shelly? Are you still enjoying retirement or did you phone to ask me to help you get your old job back?" laughed Leonard Jamling.

"Precisely," joked Steven. "How did you know?" he added with a laugh.

"Spies! They are all around. We've been watching you for weeks," said Leonard.

A shudder passed through Steven, initiating a momentary slew of goose bumps.

"Is that so," replied Steven, in feigned enmity. "And I gather on John's orders no doubt?"

Both men laughed.

"What can I do for you Steve?"

"Well Len. Shelly and I just happened to be watching the Crime Channel and caught the tail end of what resulted down at that mall in Barrie. It looked a little sensational to see the new Minister of Care on the media screen. It reminded me of old times. What exactly happened there today?"

"You know those Crehus that we have been searching for? The ones that were involved in that fatal accident north of Barrie at the end of August last year?" asked Leonard.

"The ones for whom the government issued an A.P.B."

"Yes that's them. Well we got one...Or his body, rather. It's a shame. I know how badly John wanted to have him interrogated. It's just a matter of time before we get the other one, his female partner. And there may well be more."

"More?" questioned Steven. "That's interesting. Perhaps they're part of a Family Survival Group."

"Absolutely they are. No doubt about it whatsoever."

"It's really something that you could catch him in a crowded mall like that," replied Steven. "Congratulations. You have some good men with astute vision working in the Care Department."

"Astute vision my ass," replied Leonard. "They would have missed him if it wasn't for technology. It was the cameras that did all the work. It was Sloan's idea I have to admit. That man is a genius. You are looking at a future Prime Minister of Canada one day I am certain of it. No doubt in my mind about that at all. He and John are tighter than you and your shadow," stated Leonard.

"Cameras? What do you mean cameras?" asked Steven.

"Hey. I said too much already. This is all classified information Steven. Only cabinet knows what's going on. You could get me in deep shit here."

"Oh right," persisted Steven. "It's not as if I wasn't once Prime Minister myself though is it? Never mind. I understand Leonard. I would never wish any more harm on you. Taking away Justice and giving you Health, Welfare and Employment was criminal enough, to be sure."

"Son of a bitch," said Leonard. "I'm sorry Steven. I was forgetting for a moment who I was talking to. By Government, if I can't talk to you with complete trust I can't talk to anyone."

Steven took a deep breath and held it in his lungs. He could feel the blood tingling inside him as it coursed his veins. He felt the pulsing throb of his temples in the lingering silence of the moment.

"Sloan came up with an idea to place monitoring cameras in all areas that would see frequent pedestrian traffic. Malls, food allocation centers, places' like that."

"I see," said Steven. "That's a lot of viewing."

"No. You don't understand. These monitoring cameras are only taking pictures of people without Dad Chip installations. They have built in sensors for that," said Leonard.

"But it is only natural born humans like us that do not have Dad Chips installed?" said Steven, playing along.

"Not anymore it seems," replied Leonard. In a hushed tone he added, "Keep this under your hat. Only a select few of us know that the two Crehus who perished in last year's car accident were found to have had their Dad Chips removed. How, When, Where, by Who? These are questions by which our government very much wants to know the answers to. The Crehu Ryan who killed himself earlier today knew precisely what he was doing. He didn't have a Dad Chip either. It had also been removed. He committed suicide to escape interrogation. Smart. His partner is still out there. There are most definitely others out there as well. But we will find them. By the way the Prime Minister is talking, I'm sure he will step up this program, step up the search, and widen the scope and area. I can see it going nationwide. It's only a matter of time before complete and total eradication takes place," guaranteed Leonard.

"Well...I've got to hand it to Sloan," said Steven, lying through his teeth and being personally disturbed at the thought of ever praising anyone like him. "That was a brilliant idea." Although the part about Sloan's idea being brilliant was true, Steven thought.

"Yes it was masterful. Anyone who doesn't look old enough to be natural born will undoubtedly be captured on film and caught. Within minutes of their picture being taken we shall have controllers there to apprehend them. Hopefully we will catch them alive and squirming next time."

"Yes hopefully," said Steven. "Well thanks a lot Leonard. That satisfies my curiosity. I was wondering what was going on down there. Nothing exciting ever happens up here in this sleepy village. Tell me. Is all well with you and Sharon?"

"Oh she bitches about things once and awhile. But you know women. That's par for the course. All in all, things are fine considering," replied Leonard.

"Well, life is good then. Happy hunting," winced Steven. He crossed his fingers and wished the exact opposite.

"Thanks," chuckled Leonard. "Keep this conversation to yourself. Or you'll be the death of me," he joked.

"Not to worry. It shall be our secret. I was going to tell you to say hi to the cabinet boys but under the circumstances we'll forget I called."

"Good idea. You take care, Steven," said Leonard.

"You too Leonard, it was great chatting with you."

Wendy sat enmeshed in inconsolable grief as she waited for Susan's arrival. She had never been alone, had never known the loss of a loved one before. Ryan was the only partner she had ever had. Indeed, the majority of Crehus had never been in Wendy's situation. Separations brought about by promotions, demotions, or just by being sick and tired of the person that was sharing your bed, were the norm for most people. Jobs and advancement were valued much more than relationships. Society had also been structured to do away with grieving and remorse.

There were no more families. No more parents or grandparents or siblings. No children. Friendships from childhood on were not encouraged. There were no funerals. No celebrations of a person's life after their demise. No afterlife. The Peoples Government had insurmountably attained a true ME society. The majority of Crehus cared for no one but themselves. It was only government that they relied on, one hundred per cent. Government was their only family.

Wendy didn't notice when the front door opened. Didn't notice when Susan and Alice came into the room. Susan rushed over and took Wendy in her arms. Wendy then, all of a sudden, succumbed to uncontrollable sobs. Alice now next to them, the three women comforted each other and consoled in their grief.

"It's my fault," cried Wendy. "I should have been there. I should have been awake. I could have stopped him. I would have stopped him."

"Shh Dear, if it wasn't today it might have been tomorrow...Or the next day. We all know what Ryan was like when he made his mind up to do something," said Susan.

"I don't want to live anymore. There is nothing for me. There is no point," cried Wendy.

"Ah, but you are wrong Dear. Life is God's gift to us. It is special, something to be cherished. Government would have you think that it is their gift to us, a gift that can be taken away at their slightest whim. But that's not so. Ryan stole that pleasure from them. He sacrificed his own life to save yours...And to save ours also. Ryan was a hero, Wendy. Even though the bible states that it is wrong to take your own life, in this unselfish circumstance, I believe God looked down upon him and blessed and forgave him. Right now, walking alongside our Lord, he is watching over you," said Susan.

"I don't want to go on. There is no point...Nothing for me anymore. I just want to die," Wendy reiterated.

"But there is a point Dear. I promise you. Look at me Wendy!" said Susan, raising her voice in a demanding manner as if Wendy were a child. She forcefully placed her hand on Wendy's chin and directed her head so their eyes would meet. "I have never, ever, lied to you. And I never will. There is something very important that I cannot divulge right now. It will give you more reason than you can ever imagine, to go on, to keep living. Soon you will know that reason. But for now my Dear you will just have to trust me."

"We have to leave Susan. We must be going," asserted Alice.

"What do you mean?" asked Wendy.

"Finding the car that Ryan took and bringing it back here has only given us a momentary reprieve," explained Susan. It was locked up and I'm sure the controllers must have found the keys in one of Ryan's pockets. It will just be a matter of time before they trace them back to here. My home is not a safe place anymore. We must leave here now."

"But where, where will we go?" asked Wendy.

"We have another safe house. You will see when we get there. We must all go and pack a few things to take with us. We can not dilly dally here any longer."

"Bbbrinngg!"

The sound of the phone startled everyone. Susan had felt her heart jump into her throat.

"One ring!" exclaimed Alice.

Then it rang again. Susan quickly picked it up. "Hello?" she answered, warily.

"Susan," sputtered out Steven. "Thank God I've caught you."

"What is it?" she replied, now quite alarmed by Steven's abruptness.

Steven asked Susan to call him right back. He knew his phone had a safe connection and he believed Jack and Dorrissa's and Bruce and Becka's to be also. Steven would take no chances with Susan's though. Susan told Alice and Wendy to wait for her to return and then left to phone Steven from a call booth. Once connected, Steven went on to tell her about his conversation with Leonard Jamling. About the cameras and about how the government was able to catch Ryan. Everyone in their Support Group that had their Dad Chip removed must now be notified right away. All government malls and food allocation centers had to be avoided at all cost.

It would just be a matter of time before the test area would be expanded Steven told her. Group members would have to go outside their living areas for the present and make large purchases of foodstuffs for storage. Life must now be lived as if they were all in hiding. Only Steven, and for a short time Susan, could venture out into public places with any degree of safety. They would somehow need to find a way to secretly sneak across the border. It had to be as soon as possible. Susan knew what was involved. She knew the desperate task that Dorrissa and Bruce would have to overcome. It was agreed that Susan would contact everyone before she abandoned her home. Everyone that is, but Ava. Steven would call Jack and get him to do that. Dr. Foxing needed to be told what was happening as well. Steven would also call Bruce and tell him what he had learned. Time, more than ever, was now closing in on them.

"Have you got everything?" Susan asked Alice and Wendy, as she was about to close the trunk of the car.

"Goodness Gracious, I hope so," was Alice's reply.

Wendy had long forsaken all that she had once owned.

"Oh wait," Susan cried as she dashed back into the house. Running over to the fireplace she removed a brick and retrieved the valuable treasure that had been hiding there for many generations. Replacing the brick, Susan hurried back out.

"We mustn't forget this," she said, as she clutched her late partner's family bible to her bosom. With tears in her eyes she looked back once more at the home she had come to love so much. A home where so many wonderful cherished memories, that were now a part of her, had taken place. And with that last, long, lingering look, the women departed.

"What's wrong Jack?" Dorrissa asked as she walked into the front room, bathrobe on, her hair done up in a towel.

"I just finished talking with Steve." The words poured out from behind a sullen grimace. "I'm afraid our whole Support Group is in grave and dire danger."

As she sunk down into a chair, Jack explained to her what Steven had told him. The words slammed into her like a government transport. When he had finished, Dorrissa sat stunned. All her thoughts were now on the children. They had to be removed as soon as possible.

"Jack, I'm getting dressed. Call Bruce. Tell him to put some coffee on. We are on our way over."

Jack picked up the phone and called. It was Becka who answered.

"Have you heard the news?" asked Jack.

"Yes we have. It's hideous," Becka answered in a shaky tone.

"As soon as Dorrissa finishes dressing we are coming over. Put some coffee on. There is much to discuss. Don't go anywhere."

"I'll tell Bruce."

Jack and Dorrissa arrived in less than an hour. Becka hurriedly ushered them into the house. Bruce was in the living room pacing back and forth.

"Bruce," said Dorrissa, as she barged into the room. "We must remove the children at once!"

"Yes I know, but how?" Bruce asked, as he was jarred from serious contemplation. "There are proper procedures to follow. There is detailed paperwork...Mounds and mounds of it. How in blazes..."

"Forgery. Plain and simple forgery," Dorrissa interrupted.

"What?" questioned Bruce, surprised by Dorrissa's suggestion.

"The only real paperwork needed is the transfer orders allowing the children named within to be removed and taken to their new destination. We both know what those look like and I'm sure I can doctor up a reasonable facsimile. You can as well. The rest of the paperwork, the bulk of it, and the early stages of transfer procedure all come through our offices and no one else really sees it."

"What about Gail?" Bruce shot back, point blank.

"I thought about that on the ride over. Gail took a week's vacation at a single's resort not too long ago. If she enquires, I'll explain that the bulk of the paperwork came through and was handled by me at that time," said Dorrissa.

"And if she asks to see it?"

"Ha! She may think about asking but she'll never do it."

"What if she does?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."

"Is this going to work?" asked Jack.

"It has to work," expressed Dorrissa effusively.

"But what if...?" Becka trailed off after being smitten by Dorrissa's cold, steely stare.

"No ifs," she demanded. "It must work. We have no other options. There must be no pessimism, no defeatism among us. We must be clear on that," said Dorrissa.

"I'm sorry," said Becka.

Dorrissa went over and put her arm around Becka's shoulder after seeing the hurt in her eyes. "I'm sorry Hon', I didn't mean to come down on you. I've a lot on my mind."

"How will we work it Dorrissa?" asked Bruce.

Dorrissa sat down and the others followed suit. She explained her plan. On Monday morning both she and Bruce would locate some previous transfer order documents and doctor them to show the names of her twenty-three Crehu infants, along with twenty-three others that would be transferred in their place from the Morningside Center.

The transfer would take place Friday morning. Gail would be away at a previously scheduled government function then. The children who leave Dorrissa's Wycliffe Center cannot be transferred to Morningside however. Once there it would be next to impossible to get them out. They had to be taken straight to Steven and Shelly's, at the lodge on the lake, and kept there in hiding.

This would, of course, leave Bruce in a dilemma. How could he explain the removal of twenty-three young Crehus? Almost five years younger in age than any previous exchanges made? What about the twenty-three replacements? Dorrissa had figured out the answer on the way over. Bruce would have to explain to his staff that the young Crehus who were leaving were merely a transfer, not an exchange. A pilot program was being initiated at Wycliffe and an outside infant group was needed for test purposes. Morningside had more than enough infants to spare and he thought his staff would relish and welcome the reduced workload. After all, he would tell them, exchange only occurs with older age groups. Bruce believed this scenario would be accepted by his staff and he didn't envision a problem.

On the other hand, getting twenty-three replacements to supplant Dorrissa's kids would go a long way to placate any suspicion that might form in Gail's mind. Dorrissa knew that Gail would confront her when she found out about their removal. Especially since Dorrissa spent an inordinate amount of time in the past viewing their performance. Dorrissa would be required to give a performance of her own. It needed to be the utmost acting presentation of her life if she were to quell Gail's officiousness.

But Dorrissa also had another problem more imminent. She somehow had to find a replacement driver to drive the children's bus. They needed someone on their side who could get the kids up to the lodge without being seen. No small feat indeed.

"Wait. I know!" interrupted Becka, whose brain had been working overtime trying to help in any way she could. "What about Paul? He used to be a government bus driver. Maybe he can help?"

"Yes that's right. I remember him mentioning it when we were getting our Chips removed. It's worth a shot," added Bruce.

"I wonder if Susan was able to get a hold of everyone," said Jack.

"She is supposed to be going back to Steven's. We'll call later tonight and find out," said Dorrissa.

"If Paul can drive the bus, I'll have to talk to him tomorrow. I also have to talk to Ava and Dr. Foxing. You'll have to cover for me tomorrow Becka. I won't be going to work. It seems I have a very full schedule," said Jack.

"No problem," replied Becka. "I'll say you weren't feeling well and you decided to take the day off after calling and confirming that no pressing commitments were scheduled."

"Good. Well what do you think Dorry? Do we have all our bases covered?" asked Jack.

"So far so good, I guess. I'll know more after I've talked with Susan and Steven tonight. I think it best if we leave now. If things are not going as planned I will call you Bruce," said Dorrissa. "Likewise you call me. If everything is okay we will say, 'The weather looks like it is going to be pretty good this week'. Our answer will be, 'Yes, that's what I hear'. If there is a problem we will say, 'I heard there might be a storm coming'."

"What if there is a problem and one of us has to say that?" enquired Bruce.

"Then we will have to leave our office and find a secure line where we can talk," replied Dorrissa.

"Oh for the good old days when people used to have cell phones," commented Jack. "Well before my time, I might add."

"Cell phones?" wondered Becka.

Jack smiled.

"That's right. More than one hundred years ago."

Jack elaborated. "Cell phones were personalized communication devices and almost everybody had one. It was very hard for the government to keep track of people using these. Where they were going, who they were seeing, what they were saying, so they banned them. They were banned outright. At first the ban progressed slowly. Drivers using them in vehicles were having car accidents it was found. They were eventually banned from the vehicle's interior altogether. Even from passengers who might possibly pass one to the driver.

"They could only be carried in the trunk of a car much like open alcohol. Next they were banned in schools and then came the workplace. Too much lost production was given as the reason. It was not long before the government was publishing studies saying that the microwaves given off by cell phones were causing brain tumors in a significant number of the population.

"They were finally and completely banned on the premise of personal health reasons along with unwarranted and additional, excessive medical costs to the health care system. Many people believed that the real reason they were banned was so that the government of the day could have more and better control over the inhabitants of the country. Government monitoring of the population would be much easier. That was of course before the Dad Chip was even dreamt about," said Jack.

"Wow!" exclaimed Becka. "Was there ever such a time?"

"Apparently so," Jack answered with a whimsical smile and a nod of his head.

"We best get going," said Dorrissa. "We don't want to be out too late."

"Yes," said Jack, in agreement.

The two couples hugged and said their goodbyes. Jack and Dorrissa's conversation on the way home was minimal, but their thinking was intense.

Not far from home Susan could feel her heart racing.

"Pull in there," she told Alice.

It was a coffee shop. But a different coffee shop. Not a Canada Tim's. Alice went inside to place an order while Susan went to the communication booth. Wendy slumped down in the back seat and feigned sleep. Susan in turn, phoned Tim and Elaine, Paul and Hope, Rhonda, Monica and Eloise. Everyone had an outside safe call center close to their home. Saying over the phone that she would like to get together with them for lunch on the weekend at Grant's Fish Hut, meant that they had to leave now and go to their call center. Susan had all the different numbers. Alice came back and they left the coffee shop. Alice drove north a ways and pulled into a service station. By this time, everyone would be at their designated call centers. One by one, Susan phoned them. She did not talk long to any of them. It was just long enough to explain the dire consequences that all of them were now facing. Contact with each other was now strictly forbidden unless in extreme emergency.

Their only group communication source would be herself, unless of course circumstances made it impossible for her to contact them. It was now urgent for everyone to leave the country as soon as possible. She would remain in undisclosed hiding, along with Alice and Wendy, and would check back with them when able.

"Good luck to us all," was Susan's parting statement.

Just past midnight Jack and Dorrissa called Steven with their familiar one-ring hang up, everyone now being in a state of high alert. So relieved were they both to hear of Susan's safe arrival. Jack received Paul's contact information and Susan said she would phone and let Paul know to expect a call from him. Steven welcomed the additional help he had to get the lodge ready and organized for the arrival of the children. Lots of supplies would be needed and Susan was really the only other natural born human who could help him in that situation. With Susan, Alice, and Wendy's safe arrival, it was deemed alright to finally tell Wendy about the children. They made sure she was sitting down first.

Next morning Jack called Ava at the doctor's office.

"Hello Darlin'. How is the second prettiest girl in the world doing?"

"Why Jack," said Ava, emitting a guttural laugh. "How are you doing?"

"I could be better. Can you get me in to see the doctor this morning?"

"He is not in until noon and he does have a full schedule."

"You know me Ava."

"Yes Jack, always the last minute. What shall we do with you?"

"That's funny. Dorry's always asking the same thing."

"Ha ha, very funny. How about twelve-thirty? I'll slot you in first since you're my favorite patient."

"Great. See you then."

Jack was now left to contemplate what he would say to Paul later in the evening. He thought about rolling a joint and smoking it, but only briefly. He would need to remain clear headed. It was far from an ideal time to be trying to escape the country. They were in the throes of winter.

Years of Global Warming had mellowed it somewhat, from ages past, but the weather could still be very unpredictable. Thank God there were no major storms forecast in the immediate future, he thought.

At about noon Dorrissa gave Bruce a call.

"How are you Bruce?"

"Good thanks."

"I was just looking outside. The weather looks like it is going to be pretty good this week."

Dorrissa waited. There was no response...Nothing. Fear enveloped her.

"Bruce, Bruce. Are you there?"

"I'm sorry Dorrissa. I was interrupted here. What did you say?"

"Oh nothing," she replied. "I just mentioned that the weather was looking pretty good for the week," she repeated once more, holding her breath.

"Yes. That's what I hear," answered Bruce.

Thank God thought Dorrissa.

"I just phoned to tell you that I will be sending you the latest test results on our exchange students this afternoon," said Dorrissa.

"Good. I'm looking forward to seeing them."

"Bye for now."

"Take care," said Bruce.

Jack stepped into the doctor's office and flashed Ava a big smile. He was always good when it came to putting on a brave face.

"Hello Handsome," said Ava, displaying a big grin right back at him. "What brings you in here today anyway? I don't recall asking you before."

"You didn't. You must be slipping," Jack said. He wagged his finger at her in a tsk tsk manner. "I think I might have caught a bug. It feels like I'm coming down with something," he pretended.

"The doctor is running a bit late today but I expect he'll be here soon. How's Dorrissa? You didn't give her anything did you?"

"Hmm?" voiced Jack, with that wicked grin of his.

"Oh. Sorry I asked," Ava said in amusement.

Just then the doctor walked in.

"Well hello Jack. This is a surprise. What brings you here today?" he asked with alacrity.

Jack grimaced and patted his throat with the flat of his hand, "Strep Throat."

"Alright, go into the first room and strip down to your waist. I'll be there in a minute. Are there any messages?" Dr. Foxing asked Ava.

After conferring with her, the doctor entered the examining room.

"So Jack, let's take a look at that throat of yours."

"The throat's fine."

Dr. Foxing looked puzzled. Jack went on to tell him everything that had happened. About Ryan and of course all about Sloan and his camera monitors. The plans for transferring the children, and that Susan, Alice, and Wendy were at Steven and Shelly's in hiding. Dr. Foxing had slumped into his chair in wordless astonishment as Jack related the events to him.

"My God," the doctor replied. "It has finally begun."

"Not entirely the best time to plan a move of this sort, certainly not our choosing but our hand has been forced," said Jack.

"Yes, absolutely," agreed the doctor. "What shall I do at my end?"

Jack smiled.

"When's the last time you had a vacation?"

It was decided that Dr. Foxing would have Ava cancel all of his appointments when the time for leaving grew near. She would rebook them for a later date on the pretense that Dr. Foxing's health was troubling him and he decided he needed a few weeks vacation. He hated the idea of leaving his patients in the lurch, presuming he would be back, but there was no other choice. There could be no goodbyes.

Ava had to disappear also. Or else it would only be a matter of time before she would be caught. And with her arrest, the jig would be up for the good doctor himself. After all the years some of his patients had been with him, and the crushing remorse he was feeling because of what he had to do, in the end it simply couldn't be helped. He knew this day would eventually come but was completely unprepared for the sadness he now felt.

"I will tell Ava this afternoon when all the patients are gone," said Dr. Foxing.

"It's okay to tell her about the children if that will make it easier for her," said Jack.

"You mean about her being a mother?"

"Yes. And you being their grandfather," Jack replied.

"Never in all my years could I ever have dreamed of such a gift," said the doctor with tears in his eyes.

"Yes. That Dorrissa, she certainly is something else," said Jack.

"Here. Let me give you a prescription for that throat," said Dr. Foxing between sniffles.

On the way out Jack winked at Ava and said, "Be seein' ya."

What did he mean by that she wondered?

Later that day Jack phoned Paul at his call center at the designated time. Susan had contacted him previously and he had been waiting for Jack's call. They arranged to meet at Lakeside Park which was located on the waterfront of Lake Simcoe in the city of Barrie. When Jack got to the park he could see Paul standing by an old rusted piece of native sculpture from long, long, ago. Jack scouted the area extensively. He had to make sure everything was safe before he approached.

"Hello Paul. It's been a long time."

"Hello Jack. Yes it has. I won't ask how you are. Feeling the same as I do, I would imagine?"

"Yes. They're certainly not the greatest circumstances to be meeting under," said Jack.

"But very clandestine like before," volunteered Paul.

"Hmm, you're right. We've got to stop meeting like this," agreed Jack, with a smile.

Tension eased, both men laughed. Jack explained the situation to Paul who was listening intently.

"I used to drive government buses but now I drive transports. I still have my old bus uniform though and they are identical to the ones used by current school bus drivers."

"Do you think you could get away with it?" asked Jack."

"Only one way to find out isn't there," smiled Paul. "Okay. Let me get this straight. Child Rearing Centers have their own buses. The drivers all come from the Government Transport Agency. The transfer papers are normally mailed to the Transport Agency. They are then assigned to a driver who goes to the Child Rearing Center, hands over the paperwork and takes delivery of the bus and its occupants."

"Yes that's correct," stated Jack. "But instead of mailing the paperwork to the agency, Dorrissa will bring it home and I'll meet you back here Thursday evening and give it to you in person. Then you show up in uniform Friday morning, present the paperwork at the gate, and the guards let you inside."

"All well and good," said Paul, "but I foresee a few snags."

"Uh huh?" mouthed Jack.

"The paperwork coming from Bruce at the Morningside Center will present a problem. That's really being sent to the Transport Agency for a legitimate driver. The agency will be looking for similar paperwork from Wycliffe to match up the exchange."

"No it won't. The paperwork from Dorrissa that I give you shall say exchange yes, but the paperwork that Bruce sends in will say transfer. Therefore no similar match will be contemplated or imagined."

"Okay then. There is still the problem of the logbook. I have to enter the mileage traveled. All the way to Steven's and back will put me way over. Plus there is the time factor involved. More than a few hours," said Paul.

"But I wasn't thinking of you bringing the bus back. We'll need it to carry the kids across the border."

"No way," maintained Paul. "That bus will stick out like a suit and tie on a sandy beach on a hot summer's day. I'll get a government transport to shuttle them in when the time comes. The rearing center will probably expect their bus back. And what about the child care attendants? They have to get back too."

"Child care attendants?" gulped Jack.

"Yes of course man. You don't think I can look after all those four year old kids myself do you?" laughed Paul. "I may be ambidextrous but c'mon," he added.

"I don't know if Dorrissa thought of that?"

"Don't tell me Dorrissa is doing all this on her own without any inside help?" asked Paul, quite flabbergasted.

"I'm afraid so. No one there knows about the children. I haven't told you Paul, these children are special."

"What do you mean special?"

"Dorrissa created them from chosen specimen samples. Not just any samples though. She found a way to choose specific samples. Remember years ago she played a game with you? She asked you to pick out your favorite names. The names you would choose if you were able to have your own child?"

"Yes, I do. Just exactly what are you driving at?" asked Paul, looking a bit bewildered.

"Dorrissa obtained everyone's samples that were still available from Susan's Support Group members and matched them up and gave them their chosen names. You and Hope had one sample each remaining and now you both have a beautiful daughter named Sarah."

Paul was stunned. He was speechless. He could not fathom what he had just heard. That was why they were all included in the group to have their Dad Chip implants removed. It was just one incident in a much larger scenario.

"My God Jack...I...Never dreamed..." sputtered Paul.

"Of course not," Jack said jumping in. "Few as possible had to know. The girls Eloise, Monica and Rhonda still don't know. Wendy probably knows by now. Tim and Elaine have not been told as yet. And Howard and Meg have two fine lovely children, a boy and a girl. It's such a shame that they cannot be here to see them. Ryan also is no longer with us. That was a real tragedy. He too perished without knowing he was a father. One of the bravest men I ever had the privilege of meeting."

"But Wendy will raise their children. And we will all let Howard and Meg's kids know how wonderful their parents were. But let's get back to the details. I will talk to Dorrissa tonight and we must try and figure something out regarding the pertinent issues you raised. I will meet you here on Thursday night at the same time unless you hear from me beforehand."

"Alright," said Paul. "But let's not meet here. Do you know the commuter train station parking lot by the four corners?"

"Yes."

"I'll look for you there in D section, near the back, same time. Oh yea. It is a good idea that no one else knows about the children until they are safe and sound. It will be hard, extremely hard, but I am not going to tell Hope until the time comes for us to all leave together. Thanks Jack. And please express my deepest gratitude to Dorrissa...For everything. See you Thursday."

"You can thank her yourself on Friday morning. Though, if I know Dorrissa, it will be she that is thanking you. Thursday it is then. Take care Paul."

When Jack finally arrived home that evening he confronted Dorrissa with the news. She was beside herself with anger. How could she have overlooked such a crucial detail as the need for childcare attendants? The usual exchanges between the two child rearing centers consisted of older, better behaved children with no need for caregivers on board. What was she to do?

Then it struck her. What about the girls, Rhonda, Monica and Eloise? They were all young second generation Crehus. She could sneak out three uniforms from the rearing center. Type up some fake identification certificates and together with the uniforms, give them to the girls on Wednesday evening, Thursday at the latest.

When the girls were all told about the children, their children, surely they would be keen on the plan. She would arrange with Bruce to pick them up early Friday morning and bring them over to Wycliffe on the pretense that he knew the age of the children required caregivers on board. Having extra staff at Morningside he had offered to supply them. I graciously accepted his generous offer. It will all work out, she thought. It has to.

Dorrissa rang up Susan to get her to co-ordinate a time and place for her to meet with the girls. Jack had suggested the train station parking lot at the four corners. Having so much pedestrian traffic, they would all likely go unnoticed. It's big and open. Dorrissa agreed. Susan returned her call after talking to all of the girls. She had set up the meeting for Thursday night just in case Dorrissa needed the extra time for preparation.

It was planned for all four of them to meet in section D at the outer limits of the commuter parking lot. Monica and Eloise, who both lived and worked in the city of Barrie, would be arriving by shuttle bus at approximately six o'clock. Rhonda, who lived just on the northern outskirts of the city and worked outside of it to the south, would be arriving by train shortly after.

Jack would also be there on his own to meet with Paul at seven p.m. in pretty much the same location. Everything seemed to be all set. Or so they thought.

Chapter 13

On Wednesday morning Steven and the women were cleaning up the old hunting & fishing lodge and making sure all the plumbing, heating, and electrical were in good working order. The day before he and Shelly had been running around for supplies. Steven decided that it was too risky to have Susan help them. If her spare car happened to be discovered as the vehicle that Ryan had used to get to the mall Susan's face, along with Alice's, would be plastered all over the media screen.

Wanted postures would be distributed everywhere as well. They could not take a chance on any locals seeing her face and possibly recognizing, or later recalling it. While Susan was clearing away some clutter in one corner of the building she noticed a different sound in the floorboards below her feet. It was a hollow sound. Inquisitive by nature, she bent down to take a look. There was a spot that looked like an opening. Further investigation proved it to be a trap door. Lifting it, Susan observed a rolled up tarpaulin that had been secured in a cubby. Reaching down and unwrapping the dusty covering, she was shocked.

"Steven...Steven," she shouted.

"Yes?" he answered.

"You'd better come here. You had better hurry and come here," she reiterated.

With haste, Steven ran over to where Susan was kneeling and crouched down. Underneath the floorboards had been secreted away what looked to them like a mini arsenal, stored perhaps a hundred or more years ago. Probably long forgotten and possibly hidden around the time that the government legislated all privately owned firearms illegal.

Steven reached in and tried to pick up the bundle. Too heavy to lift, he removed the weapons individually. There were five shotguns and nine rifles. Three of the rifles had hunting scopes. There were also boxes of ammunition to go with all the weapons. He held one in his hand.

Steven had heard about how men once hunted for game animals and wildfowl. He had never seen a hunting rifle before. Now he held one in his hands. Outside of government law enforcement organizations, such as controllers and soldiers having weapons, a Prime Ministerial decree issued by the Internal Prime Minister was needed in order for an individual to have and carry a weapon. They were scarcer than a government commendation which in itself was very scarce. It looked to Steven that the guns had been carefully greased and oiled before being wrapped and hidden away. All seemed to be in excellent shape. Even the shotgun shells and rifle bullets showed no signs of deterioration.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Susan, as she watched in horror Steven inspecting the weapons. "We must get rid of them...Quickly."

"No," Steven stated with a rekindled air of leadership. "We shall move them into the cabin. They might come in handy."

About ten o'clock Thursday morning Becka walked into Jack's office.

"You have a call on line two from Paul. What's he calling you here for?" Becka enquired in a worried tone.

"Shh, it's okay. I'll take it in here," said Jack, picking up the phone as Becka departed. "Paul. How are you? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, fine Jack, thank you. I just wanted to ask, you're not coming by train tonight are you?"

"No. I'm coming by car."

"Good, good," repeated Paul. "I just had to check. I was talking with a fellow from work who told me they were installing new surveillance equipment inside the train station this morning."

Not the Barrie train station?" asked Jack, in profound terror.

"Yes of course."

"And you're coming by local transit right?"

"Yes. I don't take the train. Why? Would you like to meet elsewhere now?" asked Paul.

Jack thought for a moment. Dorrissa's meeting the girls there tonight. Didn't she say one of them is arriving by train? Rhonda, I think she said. Dorrissa could be in danger...And Rhonda...The girls...All of us. I'd better be there. She will need me.

"Jack, Jack. Are you there?"

"Yes sorry," replied Jack. "I was just thinking. The parking lot at the train station will be fine. Section D, close to the entrance of the parking lot, the furthest point away from the entrance to the train station as planned. Seven o'clock."

"Okay Jack. See you then."

A heavy fog shrouded Jack's mind, a gnawing uneasiness clawed at his belly. He had to phone Dorrissa and warn her.

"Hello?" Gail answered.

"Is Dorrissa there?"

"She's not in her office at the moment Jack. Is there a message I can give her?"

"Would you ask her to call me Gail?"

"No problem."

But there was a problem thought Jack, lots of problems. And they wouldn't be rid of them until they were all safe across the border and into the United States, the last truly free country in the America's and one of the last in the world. Jack continued to think everything out while trying to eliminate any unpleasant, unforeseen surprises.

After Paul returns the bus on Friday he and Hope will have to be ready to leave at a moment's notice. A way for Paul to abscond with a government transport that won't be missed still has to be figured out. Tim and Elaine still have to be notified about the new train station monitors and the intensification of the government's Care Department commitments. They also have to be ready to leave at the drop of a hat.

I will phone Susan and get her to warn Tim and Elaine. Since neither of them drive it will be up to one of us to get them out quickly. Also, if Paul is driving a transport, Hope will need to be looked after as well. As soon as the kids are resettled and safe at Steven's, Becka and Bruce, Tim and Elaine, Paul and Hope, and Dorrissa and I will have to put in for simultaneous week long vacations. Hopefully that will be enough time to get away without the government knowing we are on the run. But in the meantime the focus has to be on Rhonda. If she is captured and made to confess under duress, which more than likely would be the case, our cover will be blown.

A mad dash for the border would have to ensue that night without delay if Rhonda was caught, Jack decided.

"Jack. It's Dorrissa on the line," said Becka.

"Hello Dorry. Is everything still on for tonight?"

"Yes, everything's set."

"You know that restaurant in Bradford you used to go to?"

"You mean The House on the Hill?"

"That's the one. Can you meet me there at five?"

"I'm really pressed for time Jack."

"We'll have one quick drink. It's urgent."

"Alright, I'll see you then."

"Thanks kiddo. Gotta go now. Places to be, people to see," said Jack, nonchalantly.

"Hmm," thought Dorrissa, as she said goodbye. Something's definitely up because Jack sounded more distant than I can remember him being in a long time.

Jack phoned Susan later that afternoon to relay what was going on and to make sure she passed on the message to Tim and Elaine. He also asked if there was any way to get in contact with Rhonda at her workplace. Susan did not have the number because all personal calls to employees were strictly forbidden. A message for her could only be left with someone at the main office, which, for obvious reasons, could not be done.

After finishing work Jack picked a secluded table at the restaurant and waited on Dorrissa's arrival. She had known something was up for she had not planned on seeing Jack until later in the evening. She strove to get there as fast as she could. She had given him the paperwork to give to Paul the night before. When she did make an entrance, at 5:20 p.m., he wasted no time in telling her everything.

It was too late to change her place of meeting. She was to meet the girls in less than thirty minutes. If Rhonda failed to come walking through those doors to meet them there would be no other alternative but to somehow break out the children and head for the border tonight. Jack said he'd park as close to the entrance as he could and half mingle, half loiter, with the crowd. Far enough away from the front doors to see if she was being followed, if she did come out. If that were the case, or if she didn't come out, he would hop back in his car and go tell her and the girls to get the heck out of there.

Jack and Dorrissa both said a silent prayer that everything would be alright. Then they left. When Monica and Eloise showed up Dorrissa explained what was going down. If they saw Jack first they would all get in the car and leave on the double. Their rendezvous point was a coffee shop about a mile from the Wycliffe Center. In a worst case scenario, Jack would arrive later with Paul, Hope, Tim, and Elaine. There was no imminent danger to Dr. Foxing or Ava because Jack had taken precautions, doctor's orders, not to formally introduce them to anyone.

Jack, having parked as close to the train terminal front doors as he could, waited patiently, incognito nearby. Then it happened. All of a sudden, without any warning, very fast...Too fast. He watched as he saw Rhonda from a distance. At least he thought it was Rhonda. He had only met her that one time for Chip removal. She came through the front doors as part of a larger crowd. She was no more than fifteen or twenty yards from the entrance when a siren sounded. The people stopped and looked around unsure of what was going on. Controllers, about a half dozen of them, ran out, weapons drawn.

"You there, Hold still, Stand fast," they demanded.

Rhonda, in a state of shock, knew all at once it was over. Nothing or no one could save her now. Tears welled up in her eyes. She fought them back. She would have to be strong. She must say nothing. Not even torture would cause her to give up her friends. They depended on her and she would not let them down.

A young man standing beside her, looking around frantically in a bewildered panic, made a break for it. He tried in haste to run but they were all over him in seconds.

"Stop...Let me go!" he screamed.

"Okay people, show's over. Clear out! NOW!" ordered one of the controllers as he helped drag the young man away.

"You can't do this to me!"

Jack heard him yell in the distance before he was dragged back into the station.

"I'm an American!"

Rhonda was motionless, standing still, frozen with fear and in shock. She could not move, even as the other people around her were beginning to disperse. Jack, hurriedly deciphering the situation, moved in to take control.

"It's okay Rhonda," he said. He put his arm around her shoulder to comfort her. "Dorrissa and the girls are waiting for you. Come. Let me help you. We'll hop in my car and I'll drive you over."

That was much too close for comfort, thought Jack. He had almost pissed himself. Looking down at Rhonda, as he helped her into his car, he saw that she had. As Jack approached Dorrissa from the distance he could see the women all scurrying into their car. They had heard the siren, seen Jack closing in, and were preparing for the worst.

"Oh Shit," said Jack out loud. "I forgot. They're running." Reaching out his window he waved his hand in frenzy. C'mon Dorrissa, see her, see her, he thought.

"Wait," Dorrissa told to the girls. "He's waving. Why is he waving?"

"That's Rhonda!" said Monica. "He's got Rhonda!"

Jack pulled up beside them.

"She's just had the scare of her life. I wasn't far behind let me tell you. They just caught an American without a Dad Chip. He was right beside her when she left the building. He saved us all," said Jack.

"How do you know he was an American?" asked Dorrissa.

"I heard him screaming that as he was taken into custody."

"Thank God," said Dorrissa. "God Bless him."

"God Bless America!" added Jack.

Rhonda, still trying to overcome the shock and upon recognizing her friends, broke down in tears.

"God does work in wonderful and mysterious ways," said Eloise.

"Amen," agreed Dorrissa.

"Look Dorrissa. She can't go home now. Not by herself. Better she spends the night at our place where she will not be alone," reasoned Jack.

Dorrissa loved that most about Jack. His compassion for others was huge.

"Can we stay with you too?" asked Monica and Eloise, in a sort of pleading urgency.

"Of course," said Dorrissa.

"That's a good idea," said Jack. "It will be easier for Bruce to pick them up in the morning."

Jack helped Rhonda into Dorrissa's vehicle. They left for home while Jack began his wait for Paul. After only a few minutes of waiting he was thunderstruck by the obvious. They are going to close the parking lot down. Check everyone just like at the mall. In case that man had a vehicle. Perhaps he had friends waiting? Jack hurried and started his car and left the lot. Parking across the road at a small mini-mart he watched as a convoy of control vehicles screeched up to the entrance and exit with sirens blazing. Controllers jumping out, all traffic was halted. Another minute or two and they would have had him.

Now he would have to intercept Paul who was coming by bus. Jack drove to a designated stop, two stops before the train station, and parked his car. As the approaching bus stopped and opened its doors, Jack jumped on. While the driver waited for him to deposit his fare, he took a quick glance around. Not seeing Paul, he asked the driver, "Is this the bus to Meadowcroft?"

"Sorry buddy," said the driver. "You're headed in the wrong direction. You have to cross the street and wait for the bus going the other way. That stop over there," the driver pointed.

"Thanks very much," said Jack, as he exited the bus. Darn, he thought, I hope to God I haven't missed him. About ten minutes later another bus arrived. Jack hopped on. There was Paul sitting at the back. Their eyes met. Thoroughly puzzled, Paul went to stand up. Jack shook his head no.

"How much is the fare?"

"Twelve dollars," said the driver.

Jack deposited the money, went to the back, and sat down close to where Paul was sitting. At the very next stop, Jack got off. Paul was right behind him.

"What's up?" Paul asked as the bus pulled away.

"Government controllers," stated Jack. They've got the whole train station including the parking lot locked down."

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Paul, in harsh tone.

"It's okay. Rhonda and the girls got away. They caught some other guy. He shouted that he was an American. The whole thing unfolded right before my eyes. It was really scary. Come on," said Jack. "I'll tell you all about it as we take a brisk walk."

"A walk?" questioned Paul.

"Yup...Back to the previous stop. That's where I left my car."

Along the way, Jack gave Paul the papers he would need to present to the Wycliffe Center in the morning in order to board the bus and depart with the children. Paul was very worried about leaving Hope alone. He wanted Jack to take her back with him to be disguised as an attendant along with the other three women.

The problem with that idea was that Paul would be absent from work with a phoned in sickness. If Hope also called in sick it would look extremely suspicious if somehow both were found to be absent at the same time. They would be red flagged. Truant Hunters from their work, or even controllers from central dispatch, could be sent to their residence to check up on them. They could even be monitored and that would really stir up a hornet's nest. Jack and Dorrissa had also discovered that Paul had been right. He had to return the bus to the Wycliffe Center before days end to avoid an alarm being raised. That was another thing that Dorrissa had not anticipated. It was bad enough that he would be coming back late with extra miles on it.

Paul told Jack that he had figured out a way around that. On his way north with the children, he would clock the distance from Wycliffe to Morningside. When he had gone that distance plus half, he would pull over and snap the speedometer cable. For the rest of the trip, there and back, he would estimate his speed.

He would traverse the back roads on his return trip, finding one that was less traveled. When he reached the point where he should be, mileage wise, Paul would pull over and puncture the front tire. He would then get back in the bus, drive a bit, and veer off to the side of the road into a ditch. Paul's official explanation for the delay would be that he had taken a shortcut on the return trip to save time. Unfortunately he received a blowout causing him to crash into a ditch breaking the speedometer cable in the process. After waiting for a passerby for a considerable amount of time, with no help in sight, he hiked out on his own to be rescued.

"The only way I foresee a problem is if they tried tracking me because I was late."

"You mean the Wycliffe Center?" asked Jack.

"Yes," replied Paul.

"Well that won't happen," said Jack positively. "Kevin or Dorrissa are the only people who could authorize that and she plans to keep him busy with other things," said Jack, smugly.

"That's good to hear. Just the same," said Paul, "if anything at all happens to me, I want your promise that you will get Hope out. I have told her nothing about the children either."

"You have my word on that," said Jack.

After dropping Paul off at his residence Jack made his way home.

The door opened and into the room walked Sloan, defiantly.

"Where is he?" Sloan demanded.

"Second door down the corridor, on your right," replied the controller in charge.

"What about his underarm?"

"No scar. He's an American for sure. His name is Ronald Slowski. He said he's been here for close to three months."

"How is that?" enquired Sloan, quite perturbed.

"He said he sneaked into the country. He's been using stolen identification to get by. Hiding out and keeping on the move. Apparently he is on the run from an assault charge in Tennessee where he was facing three to five."

"He's a thief as well as a thug eh? Is he here by himself?" asked Sloan.

"Well...Not exactly Sir," admonished the controller.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Sloan exploded in petulant rage.

"Your men Sir, Simon and Richard, have reviewed the tapes and it seems he was with a young woman. They exited side by side and just the one flash was noticed on the film at the time. When this guy panicked and tried to run my boys thought they had their man and things had been wrapped up. But when his exit tape was rewound and played at slow motion, your men found a distinct, although quite faded, second flash."

"What happened to this woman?" Sloan growled.

"I am afraid, Sir, she got away."

"You're afraid are you? Afraid? I can assure you that it is Richard and Simon that should be Bloody Well afraid. I promise you that!"

"Yes Sir. I might add Sir, that this American denies any knowledge of the young woman. He keeps insisting he was traveling alone."

"Right," acknowledged Sloan with a roll of his eyes. "That's what they all say. I'll attend to him in a minute. Did you get a picture of the girl?"

"We only got a partial Sir. She was in a crowd and mostly obstructed by the American."

"Well I want it enhanced as well as can be and shown on the Crime Channel immediately. There is no time to loose."

"Yes Sir, right away Sir."

"I'm going to see our young friend now," said Sloan, sardonically.

"Well Mr. Ronald Slowski or whatever your name is. Are you enjoying our hospitality here?" asked Sloan, as he entered the cubicle.

"I am Ronald Slowski. You can check. I'm not lying," the young American cried, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Sloan could see that he had been beaten rather thoroughly. Welts and bruises were starting to form on his sullen face. He smiled at the thought of the young man's pain. He relished the torment of his grief.

"And the woman you were traveling with?"

"There was no woman. I've told your men over and over again. I'm on the run from the law. God, I wished I had stayed in America."

"I bet you do," smiled Sloan.

"Just send me back. Please, I beg of you," sobbed the man.

"Huh?" Sloan dryly snickered. "I don't think you're in any position to beg. I'm sure you are aware of our laws here in Canada. There is absolutely no admittance by petty criminals into the country without a Dad Chip implantation. For all we know you could be a terrorist."

"No! No! I'm a fugitive on the run. I've told you everything. I'm traveling alone. God, why won't you listen to me," wailed the distraught man in tears.

"God? God?" repeated Sloan.

"Don't you know? He doesn't listen to people in Canada," Sloan cackled. "But the government does Mr. Slowski. We do listen to people. We have listened that you are traveling...Touring our beautiful countryside. But there is much more of it for you to see. So much more! There is the west coast...The east coast...Don't forget about our glorious Artic. They say that a person has never truly seen a sunset until they see one in our beautiful Artic. Or more than one," Sloan said with a sneer. "I guarantee that once you do you will never want to leave." Sloan now burst forth in convoluted laughter.

"What do you mean?" asked the quivering American.

"Let's just say that you don't ever have to worry about doing a three to five stretch back in the good ol' U.S. of A. You've found a new home here...For life!" mocked Sloan as he left the tiny cubicle of a room.

He couldn't help feeling pleasure as he listened to the poor young man's screams of disbelief through the closed door of his cage. Sloan was now in fine form. Still pissed off about the woman though, it was now time to pay a visit to Richard and Simon. Two, soon to be, ex Care employees he had decided.

It was almost nine p.m. when Jack arrived back home. Dorrissa had told the three young girls about the children. Along with the fact that they were, genetically speaking, all mothers in their own God-given right. It was this surrounding exuberance and euphoria that Jack walked in on. It renewed in him all the strength and hope that somehow Dorrissa had never lost. Feeling recharged and invigorated, he was once again happy and content.

Even the sight of Rhonda's partial image, viewed later that night on the Crime Channel, did not deter his optimism. After all, it wasn't enough of a picture to worry about. With the girls phoning in sick in the morning, and it being a Friday, it would be Monday at least before the authorities would start to grow suspicious. Everyone, for that one evening at least, could now take a breather.

That night, as she lay in bed, Dorrissa's thoughts kept her from the throes of contented slumber. As she tossed and turned trying to get to sleep, Jack took her and held her in his arms. She melted into him as if she were a bar of chocolate. All her qualms and worries departed from her mind as she and Jack made passionate love. Again and again, the throbbing joy of ecstasy enveloped her senses as she finally hunkered down into his arms once more to smell the sweet, yet pungent, scent of his underarms. Sleep irrevocably came to her at last.

Dorrissa awoke to prepare for the most important day in her life. Jack was right by her side. After a quick shower and a bite to eat she woke the girls.

"Eloise, Monica, Rhonda, time to get up. Bruce will be here shortly. You can grab some breakfast while you're waiting. Here are your uniforms. I have to leave now. See you soon. And remember," Dorrissa went on, "none of you are to show signs of knowing me, or Paul for that matter, when we all meet again later this morning. Nothing must go wrong and jeopardize this mission. No one must perceive even the remotest speck of suspicion."

"We understand," answered the girls conclusively.

Dorrissa left for work a bit earlier that morning. Arriving just before eight she told the guards to watch out for Bruce who would be arriving with some childcare attendants for the child exchange taking place that morning. She also told them to expect a person from the Government Transport Agency who would be driving the bus.

Once inside her office Dorrissa procured the necessary paperwork and proceeded to the rearing center to make sure the children were packed and ready. Kevin was just arriving when she got there.

"I guess you're going to miss these little guys. I've kind of gotten used to seeing you around here," said Kevin.

"Oh they'll be back. And you can't lose me that easily. I've promised Bruce we will keep extensive records on the new group arriving this morning in their place. He will do the same for us. Tit for tat," said Dorrissa.

"Stats are always good to have. I'd better push off then. I too have a mound of work that awaits me. Later, Dorrissa."

"Later, Kevin."

Paul showed up at eight-thirty with the proper paperwork and was let inside. Shortly after, Bruce pulled in with the girls. By nine o'clock Dorrissa was at the bus talking to Bruce while the children were being loaded and everything was going as planned.

"What's going on here?" queried an all too familiar voice.

Momentarily jarred, but swiftly gaining composure, Dorrissa turned to see Gail bearing down on her.

"I thought you had a meeting this morning?" asked Dorrissa.

"I did but it was cancelled. What's happening here?" inquired Gail, acrimoniously.

"We are participating in another child exchange process," answered Dorrissa decisively.

"But these children...Are these not your own hand picked and created project children?" Gail continued, with incredulity.

"What of it?" Dorrissa answered. "Are we not taught to keep our emotions in check when dealing with young children? I hope Gail that you are not getting too close to yours. With me it is all part of an experiment. I've viewed these infants here at Wycliffe for a considerable period. I now feel it's time they received a change in their environment just to see if such an alteration causes any personality changes in them. I was just discussing with Bruce here...You remember Bruce from the Morningside Center don't you Gail?"

"Yes. Hello Bruce," answered Gail, now feeling somehow on the defensive and wondering how Dorrissa could always turn things around on her.

"Anyway," Dorrissa began again, "I was just discussing with Bruce plans to continue monitoring these young Crehus and keep me informed of any personality changes or other occurrences."

"When was all this decided then?" asked Gail, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"A while back...I believe you were on vacation," said Dorrissa without skipping a beat.

"You never said anything to me about it?"

"Slipped my mind I guess. Just like you forgetting to tell me about your cancelled meeting. It was certainly not that important. Say Gail," wondered Dorrissa out loud, "all this concern you seem to be showing. Are you sure you are not starting to feel an outward attachment towards your own sample project? That could indeed be detrimental to its outcome," Dorrissa finished making her point with a hint of sarcasm.

"Of course not," said Gail. "I've got to get back to work now. I have things that need doing. I just came to see where you were."

"Fine Gail, I'll see you in a bit. Perhaps you might want to consider sending your batch on the next exchange. However," Dorrissa added, "that is entirely up to you."

As they watched Gail venture out of earshot Bruce turned to Dorrissa and said, "You're good. You're very good."

"Thanks," laughed Dorrissa, with a coquettish shake of her head. "That's what your brother always says. Now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

"You were talking about the girls not being noticed missing until Monday," reminded Bruce.

"Right, I was. Well, theoretically speaking anyway. The girls just finished phoning in feigning illness. Since they are all single they should not be red flagged in the system. Paul also phoned in but Hope has gone to work today.

"The children should arrive at the lodge by noon. Tim and Elaine and Hope, have put in for vacations next week and they have been approved. This time of year vacations are much more accessible. Paul will go in to work on Monday and sign out a government transport to use for our escape. You and Becka, as well as Jack and I, need to put in for vacations this morning. Come Monday morning it won't be long before the girls are formally noticed missing and all hell breaks out.

"Paul and Hope will be driving Tim and Elaine up to Steven and Shelly's tonight. Paul will spend the weekend and come back alone on Sunday night. He is scheduled to go on a long haul next week. Instead, he will drive up in the government transport to meet us Monday morning. You and Becka, along with Jack and I, should also meet up there tonight. Dr. Foxing and Ava will get there sometime this weekend also. It's all starting to shape up but let's not forget to keep our fingers crossed just the same," said Dorrissa.

"And pray," added Bruce.

"That goes without saying. I've been doing a lot of praying lately," replied Dorrissa.

"We all have," said Bruce. "I'd best be going now and see about sending your replacements on their way. Linda knows I'll be in a little late this morning. The bus driver should be pulling in about noon. I'll call you when they have left."

"Thanks and good luck," wished Dorrissa.

"Good luck to us all," replied Bruce.

With Bruce gone it was also time to bid Paul on his way. He watched the speedometer with precise accuracy as he passed by Morningside, all the while driving carefully, cautiously, and within the speed limit. When Paul was at the halfway mark past Morningside he pulled into a highway service center and found a remote spot where he felt safe. There he broke the speedometer cable before continuing on his journey. Paul reached Steven's place just before eleven, the directions being excellent. Everyone ran out to greet them.

"The children, where are the children?" Wendy yelled excitedly.

"Now let us be patient," said Susan, although just as excited if not more so.

Alice stood kind of dumbfounded. Steven and Shelly ran to the bus.

"How did it go?" Steven asked, apprehensively.

"Piece of cake," replied Paul from his side window. "Nice place," he added.

"No one saw you entering the drive?" queried Steven.

"No. I was very careful."

"Okay children. Time to get off the bus," said Rhonda.

Eloise, Monica, and Rhonda carefully herded the kids off the bus. A big release of tension filled the air and a mini pandemonium ensued. The children, wide-eyed and all excited, had never seen anything like Steven's cottage before. They'd never seen anything other than their child rearing center before. Amidst all the tears of joy, parent's tears of course with them meeting their children for the first time, Paul abruptly stated, after spending some precious moments with his own daughter, "See you tonight folks. I've got to get back."

"I will come with you and make sure there is no traffic so you can depart incognito," said Steven. "It sure is lucky that buses, be they for city passenger service, touring, or school, all look the same."

"You got that right. The dark tinted windows are a great help too. I never would have made it all the way up here if the different buses were distinguishable," agreed Paul.

"Shelly?"

"Yes Steven?"

"Can you take the children and everyone else down to the lodge? I'm going to see Paul out. I'll be back shortly."

"Yes of course Dear. Come along children. Follow me," said Shelly.

"Just how exactly were you able to turn in here without anyone noticing? Was it sheer luck?" asked Steven.

"Na," smirked Paul. "When I got near here I just slowed down. Everyone behind me got impatient and passed me by. When I seen nothing coming toward me from a distance, and with nothing behind me, I just sped up, slowed down, turned in, and presto, here I was."

"Pretty talented," offered Steven.

"In the last few months I've learned a lot about not drawing attention to myself. Hey, what about my kid? Isn't she adorable?"

"She certainly is."

"I can't wait for Hope to see her. Boy will she be surprised."

'Have you told Hope about her daughter yet?" asked Steven.

"Nope...I'll spring it on her tonight...Same with Tim and Elaine. The less they know for now, the better. She thinks we are going to a northern resort to get away from the monitoring cameras for awhile, as do Tim and Elaine. They have no idea there are children involved. Hmm," Paul chuckled. "I can hardly wait to see the look of surprise on their faces when they find out."

"You're very brave Paul, I must say. Going back into work on Monday morning," praised Steven.

"Aw, that's nothing. You folks are the brave ones. Now really, I gotta go."

"Give me a ride out with you, almost to the end of the driveway, and I'll jump out and take a look to make sure the coast is clear. I'll walk back to the cottage after you leave."

Paul drove with the front doors open while Steven hung on to the passenger bar.

"Here is good," said Steven jumping out as Paul came to a stop far enough back from the entrance to the highway.

After about five minutes Steven beckoned Paul forward.

"See you tonight," Steven yelled, as Paul pulled out.

"Gail. Could you come in here please?" asked Dorrissa.

"Be right there," answered Gail. She wondered what was up now.

"The gatehouse just phoned and the Morningside bus is here with the children. Could you watch things for me here so I can go down and process them?"

"Shouldn't that be Kevin's job?" asked Gail, suspiciously.

"He's terribly busy with some other things and was overjoyed when I offered my assistance," replied Dorrissa.

"I can do that for you if you like. Do you have the paperwork?" asked Gail.

That's all I need thought Dorrissa. Her seeing that Morningside's paperwork reads transfer instead of exchange.

"No that's okay. I could use the fresh air. Besides, never having done an exchange with so young of an age group before I'm curious to see what we're getting. I'll be back shortly."

After processing the paperwork and having attendants from the child rearing center escort the children away, Dorrissa returned and locked the papers in her desk to keep them from prying eyes.

Approximately half way back from the Morningside Center Paul veered onto a different route with minimal to no traffic. Perceiving a good spot for an accident to take place he pulled over. Pulling out a sharpened screwdriver from his pocket, he punctured a front tire. Paul then got back into the bus, accelerated it, and proceeded to drive it off the road and over some large rocks.

Getting out of the bus he walked to the nearest residence and used their communication device to put in a distress call to the Wycliffe Center and report the accident. Dorrissa had been ready and waiting and had phoned the gatehouse earlier emitting concern with the lateness of the bus and the whereabouts of the driver, since it was his job to sign the bus back in. The gatehouse was told to call her when they heard anything. The bus supposedly should have been back not much past noon, she had said. When the gatehouse questioned whether or not it should be immediately reported to the authorities, Dorrissa replied that she would give him a few more hours.

At one-thirty the gatehouse phoned to report the driver had an accident and the location of it. Dorrissa arranged for the return of the bus to the center and asked to see the driver when he arrived. The resulting accident report that Dorrissa had Paul fill out was a preordained bit of fiction. It was just something on paper to look good which would delay further unfavorable consequences from arising. Before the afternoon was over, Paul had finished and was on his way. All this excitement in only one day was very noticeable to Gail and she could not refrain from mentioning it to Dorrissa.

"Actually Gail, you are quite right. I've had far too much excitement. I think I could use a bit of a vacation after this. I think I'll give Jack a call now and see if he can get next week off. If he can, you should be fine running things on your own for a week shouldn't you Gail?"

Gail was taken back, quite surprised by Dorrissa's query.

"Why...Why no...er...I guess...ah," Gail stammered, wide-eyed. "But it's already four-thirty? Isn't that kind of late notice?"

"I guess. But I'm a boss. So is Jack. If he can get off I could sure use a break. It really has been a hectic day but the worst is over and things should substantially calm down for next week. Unless of course you don't think that you are up to being in charge?" said Dorrissa.

"No...No. It's not that!" exclaimed Gail. "Of course I can do it. I've done it before haven't I?"

"Yes you have. I thought perhaps that you were waffling from lack of confidence for some obscure reason. Fine then, it's settled. I'll call Jack to ask him and let you know in a few minutes. Thanks Gail. That's all for now."

After a few minutes Dorrissa exited her office and told Gail it was a go.

"It's all set then. May I say I value your being there for me Gail, really I do. Hey look at the time; four forty-five. Why don't you leave early and I'll close shop tonight as a show of appreciation. If there is anything special you need to know, I'll leave a note for you on your desk."

"What about the accident report?" Gail asked.

"Oh, I've almost wrapped that up. I'll drop it in the internal mail on my way out."

"Well. I guess I could use the extra time to get ready," said Gail.

"Get ready?" Dorrissa repeated.

"Yes. There is a government get together tonight...Well sort of. And I've been invited."

"Why you sly devil," kidded Dorrissa. "Anyone I know?"

"No it's not like that. Just a friend," stated Gail.

"Well you have a good time and I'll see you when I get back," Dorrissa lied.

Gail made it mutual.

"You have a good time too," said Gail.

After Gail had left, Dorrissa took out the papers she had locked in her desk regarding the child transfer. She knew Gail would be looking for them and the word transfer had to be changed wherever it appeared and substituted with the word exchange. The forms that she had Paul fill out regarding his supposed accident were fine to send since she used a phony name for the driver. More important, Dorrissa had to make sure all traces of her children such as their names and files were erased and destroyed. One final check had to be done. She called Jack to tell him she would be arriving home a bit late and to pack for her.

When Paul arrived home he received some bad news from Hope. Her boss's boss had refused to give her the week off. An extra workload had been given her department and no one could be spared.

"We'll just have to take a vacation another time, Honey. Don't worry. I'm being careful. I'm avoiding every place that might have those awful cameras," Hope said, in all innocence.

"What about Tim and Elaine? They were given vacation time off and can't change it now? They are probably all packed. You know neither of them can drive."

"Well Dear what do you propose? Would you go to a northern resort without me? I guess perhaps it would make sense for you to go alone if they were going to charge us for it anyway."

"Of course not, it's not about the money. Wait. I have an idea," said Paul, showing a flash of brilliance upon his face. "Let's pick up Tim and Elaine and you can just go for the weekend. They can stay the whole time, regardless whether or not I remain. I can always return and still bring them back at the end of the week."

"And what of me?" asked Hope, looking a bit forlorn. "What if you decide you want to stay?"

"Well Darlin', we certainly wouldn't want to get you in trouble," said Paul, with a shrewd smile followed by a big hug. "I can bring you back Sunday night for sure. It's not that I don't drive for a living," he kidded, a bit sarcastically but only in fun. "Now let's pack and not keep Tim and Elaine waiting. I can really use a vacation, if only for a weekend."

"Steven...Steven," called Shelly. "Dr. Foxing and Ava are here."

Running out to greet them, Steven emerged with a big, broad smile.

"Good to see you again, Dr. Foxing. You too Ava," said Steven.

"Please, make it Bill," said Dr. Foxing.

"Where are the children?" asked Ava, unable to contain her excitement.

"Of course," Steven chuckled.

"They are all in the lodge," said Shelly. "Come, we'll take you down. I know you can't wait to see them."

"You've got that right!" exclaimed Ava, awash in radiant effervescence.

"Are Jack and Dorrissa here?" asked Dr. Foxing.

"Not yet Bill," smiled Steven. "Not all of us can keep doctor's hours," he laughed.

As they walked on Steven continued to fill the ears of his new arrivals with the up to date events.

"Here we are!" Shelly rang out, as she opened the door.

Inside small groups of children sat playing or listening to stories. Susan, Eloise, Rhonda, Alice, Wendy and Monica were all there with the children.

"Come Bill & Ava," smiled Shelly. "Let me introduce you to your children, my children, and your grandchildren William," Shelly added, with a wink of her eye, "seeing that all three of us now share relations."

"Intimate relations it seems," commented Steven, in a naughty but humorous way.

Shelly took Bill and Ava by their hands and went over to a group of children who were sitting quite still, while listening, as Susan told them a story.

"Ava. There is your daughter, Alana. That's your son, Thomas. They're your grandchildren, Bill. Over there Bill," Shelly pointed, "playing with Rhonda and Monica are Herbert and Margaret. They're my children as well as your other two grandchildren."

Tears of joy filled Dr. Foxing's eyes. His Adam's apple seemed to swell in his throat. Ava was momentarily speechless.

"The children will be five in the fall. Their birthdays, which we will most definitely celebrate, all fall on October the twenty-seventh. They do not know that we are their parents and grandparents. They don't even know the meaning of the words. They have no concept of them. Still quite young, they shall learn the meaning of parent and child. There is plenty of time to find out the meaning of family. Who would make a better teacher than ourselves? Noooobody," Shelly laughed.

"All they know," Shelly continued, "is that they are on a trip. Their first excursion ever and we are trying to make it fun and enjoyable for everyone. Some of them were a little skittish at first, never being away from the rearing center before but that is quite normal for children their age. That is why we will continue playing with them until they fall asleep, this being their first night here and all. Right now we, as adults, must find a way to escape this God forsaken country."

"On the contrary," said Dr. Foxing, "we are, at present, in this country and God has not forsaken us. Or all the many others I pray who are just like us out there somewhere whom we do not know."

"Of course... You are right. I apologize for that remark. I don't know what I was thinking. Forgive me Lord," said Shelly.

"Over here," called Steven, beaming with obvious pride. "Come and meet these fine young men!"

Bruce finished up at the office and drove home a little latter that evening also. Everyone at Morningside knew that he would be away the following week. Becka, of course, had no problem getting off either since the Rank Institute deemed it very practical for her to take vacation the same time as Jack did. They both had packed and were on the road by seven that evening.

By the time Dorrissa had convinced herself that all loose ends had been taken care of, and had finally made it home, it was eight o'clock. Jack had packed what was most important and was ready to leave.

The buzzer sounded from the lobby, as Gail was putting on the finishing touches of her makeup.

"Hello Cali. I'll be down in a second," said Gail.

"How did you know it was me?"

"Duhh," mouthed Gail.

"Hurry up," said Cali. "The meter's running."

Gail did not have many friends, especially male friends. She had never been in a relationship. It was most likely due to her prickly-pear personality. It had been so long since she had lain with a man she had forgotten completely what it felt like. Well...Almost.

They would take a government cab to the train station and board a train into the city. A discussion on 'How to Spot Family Survival Group Members in the Workforce' was being given by the government and it was only open to higher level, more senior government employees. A light buffet with alcoholic refreshments would follow. Everything was provided by the government and Cali had registered them earlier in the week.

These government functions were one of the very few places where a Crehu, such as herself, might meet a dignified and worthy partner. In fact, Gail knew it was at a similar type function that Becka had met Jack. She could only hope. She had been hoping for a long time. It wasn't as if she were homely or anything. It was more perhaps, that at times, innumerable times, she could be judgmental, cruel, caustic, and spiteful. You name it.

Gail's looks did attract men however. That was why Cali suffered her company. Not that she would ever tell Gail that. The trick was to grab one of the fellows that initially converged upon them and escape before Gail had a chance to open her mouth and scare them all away. That is exactly what Cali had done. The evening was virtually finished and Cali was nowhere in sight. Preparing to leave on her own, as usual, Gail noticed a man coming her way. As he walked by she said, "Hello."

Stopping a few feet away, Sloan turned and looked Gail in the eye.

"Pardon?" he said.

Sloan in fact, was in a very good mood. This whole conference had been his idea. A further way to flush out society's hidden undesirables. It was given Prime Minister Billarts full backing and blessing, and had received for Sloan, many personal accolades.

"Do I know you?" Sloan asked, somewhat intrigued.

"I guess you don't remember me. But I remember you," said Gail boldly. "You have come a long way from the Teachmaster's Review Board. But of course, excuse me. My name, as my identity card so states, is Gail 127B26. I work at the Wycliffe Birthing Lab. I am Dorrissa's assistant. That is where I seen you a long time ago. You were doing an inspection with the Department Minister. Congratulations on your new appointment as Minister of the Department of Care."

Sloan fixed a hesitating stare on Gail as she rambled on, and when finished replied, "Oh yes. Dear Dorrissa. How is she anyway?" he smirked.

"Oh she's fine I guess. She should be. She just started a week's vacation. But it has been one of the weirdest days, I'll have to admit," said Gail.

"It's been fun chatting but I think it's time to push off," said Sloan, as he turned to walk away. Only having gone a few steps, he stopped. Turning back around, his face reflecting a puzzled wonderment, he asked, "What did you mean when you said it was a weird day?"

"Well," Gail went on, "I was supposed to be away today on a course but it was cancelled and when I arrived at work Dorrissa was loading her kids on a bus for a Crehu exchange program. But they are so little and she has spent so much time monitoring and recording their progress in the past. And now they are gone. Just like that, in the blink of an eye."

"What do you mean her kids?" asked Sloan, clearly interested by now in what Gail had to say.

"Well it all started when Dorrissa decided she wanted to raise her own crop of Crehus. So she decided to pick and choose cell samples for that exclusive purpose."

"Are you working tomorrow?" asked Sloan.

"No. Not until Monday," responded Gail.

"I'm interested in hearing more. How'd you like to come to my place for a drink?"

"Hey, we made it!" yelled Tim triumphantly from the back seat. "There's the sign, FOOT'S BAY."

Once safe in the car, and well away from the clutching grasp of the city's confines, Paul had told Hope, Tim, and Elaine, the real reason for their journey. That they would all be escaping from the country with the others. That they were on their way to Steven and Ruth's to hide out for the weekend until he could get the government transport truck on Monday morning that would enable him to whisk them all away to safety. Paul did not tell them about the children though. He was saving that for a surprise. Besides, they'd never let him concentrate on his driving if he did.

"Yes it looks that way. Now we just have to find the turnoff," drawled Paul, as he slowed down in the darkness. Why is it so hard to see things at night that are so easy in the daytime, he wondered?

"Honey, what's the name of the road we turn off and I'll help you look?" offered Hope.

"Damn, I can't remember exactly, but I should recognize it when I see it," said Paul.

"You can't remember?" said Elaine, quite flabbergasted if not outright peeved. "We've been in this car for over two hours and I have to pee!"

"Easy Dear," said Tim. "Give him a break. Paul has a lot on his mind."

"Hmm, should be around here somewhere," said Paul.

No sooner said than the car behind them turned on a flashing set of lights and let it siren loose with a few blasts. It was a government control car motioning them to pull over.

"Oh no!" shrieked Elaine.

"Shut up!" demanded Paul. No one say a word. Let me do the talking," he added.

Paul lowered his window as the controller walked over to the car. One hand was holding a flashlight and the other held his weapon. Shining the light in everyone's face, he came back to Paul and rested it on his.

"Lost are we?" said the controller.

"Actually, we're on a weekend excursion. Taking a break from the city and we're looking for a place to spend the night," replied Paul.

Glancing down at Paul's identity card the controller said, "I see you're licensed for big rigs?"

"Yes Sir. I drive transports for the government."

"Is this your vehicle?"

"No Sir. I don't own a car. They are too expensive. This is a rental."

"You got the papers for it there?"

"Yes Sir," answered Paul, as he removed them from the front forward compartment.

After looking those over the controller handed the documents back to Paul.

"They seem to be in order, insurance and all," said the controller. Bending down he again shone the flashlight in everyone's face. Although significantly terrified, Elaine did her best to keep her trembling from showing.

"Are you all Crehus?" he asked.

"Yes," they all replied.

"I'd like you all to give me your identity cards. I have to check and make sure there are no outstanding charges against anyone. It's strictly procedure. Just sit tight and I'll be back in a minute."

"We understand controller. You're just doing your job. It's good to see that," kiss-assed Paul.

As the controller walked back to his vehicle Elaine started to come apart. Hope seemed to be border line.

"Hey," said Paul. "I'm scared too. But damn it girl you've got to pull yourself together before that guy comes back. Any sign of fear and we're done for. And so is everyone else. Understand? Hey Tim, snap her out of it."

After a few minutes the controller returned with their identity cards and handed them back.

"Everything looks fine. The reason I stopped you is that you were driving too slow. We usually get the reverse around here. Anyway, I figured you were looking for something but I didn't know what. There is a motel about fifteen miles north of here. They should have a vacancy. If not, they'll help you find one. I suggest that in the future you make reservations before you venture out."

"Yes Sir, we will. Thank you Sir," said Paul

"Goodnight then. And drive properly. I would never know you drove for a living," chuckled the controller as he walked away.

"Shit. That was close," said Tim, once he knew the controller was out of earshot.

"Ya," Paul shuddered, as he put the car in gear. "If he had pulled out his portable Dad Chip monitor we would have been screwed."

"We would have had to take him out then," said Tim, all bravado now that the controller was gone.

"Right, whatever," said Paul, making an unbelieving face. "We still would have been screwed."

"How far is Steven's?' asked Hope, shivering.

"We can't go there now. Not after this. He'll be expecting us to go to that motel. Let's not push our luck. I'll call Susan when we get there," said Paul, as he drove away.

Gail followed Sloan outside and crossed the road to a waiting car parked right on the road which was clearly illegal. As they approached a man jumped out of the front seat and opened the rear door for them to get in. Gail was clearly impressed.

"Home," spit out Sloan.

The ride took no more than ten or twelve minutes. Sloan did not utter a syllable during that time and Gail had been discreet enough not to also. Stopping in front of a very elegant high-rise that overlooked the lakefront, they both vacated the vehicle. Inside they proceeded past a guarded front lobby, up the elevator and through the front door of Sloan's new digs. Gail could not believe the opulence that her eyes were scouring.

"Want the grand tour?" muttered Sloan.

The look on her face said it all.

Sloan showed her his 'quarters' as he called them. Three bedrooms, dining area, separate kitchen, living room, combination sunroom and den, storage and laundry area (completely useless to him he had said), and last but not least, four bathrooms, an en suite for each of the three bedrooms. "It helps to know the right people," he sneered. "What would you like to drink?"

"Surprise me!" said Gail, with flare and a coquettish smile.

Sloan wandered over to his built in bar, his favorite perk by far, and mixed a couple of doubles; gin and tonic. One thing was for sure, Sloan loved his booze. Because he did...He thought everyone else did too. In Gail's case, he couldn't be more right. She was definitely drinking under the table competition for him. Just having come from the licensed government presentation, they were both well on their way to becoming contenders for the title.

"Here you go. Have a seat," said Sloan, motioning to a chair.

Gail sat down and crossed her legs, arranging them in demure pretense.

Sloan sat across from her.

"So tell me...What's all this about 'Dorrissa's children' as you called them? Start from the beginning."

"That's what she called them. Around five years ago Dorrissa was getting very upset with the quality of cell samples that we were receiving from The Eastern Cell Repository."

"What do you mean by quality?" asked Sloan.

"For the past few years, prior to the creation of her children, many of the Crehus that were being reared from creations in our birthing lab at Wycliffe seemed distant, troubled, problem-causing, and impertinent. That was certainly not what the child rearing center was used to," said Gail.

"I recall something to that effect," said Sloan. "Kevin, the superintendent of the child rearing center there, was complaining about the quality of teachmasters he was getting. That was why I was there on a tour that day," stated Sloan, knowing it to be only a half truth at best.

"Yes, but Dorrissa attributed it to more than just that," said Gail.

"More?" questioned Sloan.

"Yes. Dorrissa started comparing the characteristic profiles that were coming with the cell samples from the repository and found many of them to be, how shall I say, same sex oriented. The majority showed a pronounced proclivity for similar sex attraction."

At that precise moment Sloan could feel the rage building inside his body. Dorrissa is homophobic. Just like Jack. I knew it. Two peas in a pod, he thought.

Gail could see Sloan's face turning beet red, the clenched fist around his glass whitening. All of a sudden, the glass broke.

"Oh My Government!" squealed Gail, as she stood up.

Blood was running down from Sloan's hand onto his clothes. The severity of the wound brought him back to his senses.

"Come, get up," demanded Gail, taking charge of situation. "We must run that under cold water. Do you have bandages?"

Gail took Sloan over to the sink and ran cold water over the cut.

"There are clean linen towels in that drawer beside you," volunteered Sloan.

"Thank goodness it looks only to be superficial," said Gail, as she wrapped it in a towel.

"I'll be fine. I need another drink now though. Bugger it all," he said, all the while thinking how it was that each time a woman had been alone with him in his apartment she ended up nursing him along.

"You sit right back down," said Gail, as she led him to the couch. "I can make it for you. I'm an expert at these," she smiled.

"Make sure it's a double," Sloan bellowed.

"You got it."

Drink back in hand, his other hand this time, he took a sip.

"Damn girl, you make a mighty fine drink at that."

Gail smiled, very pleased with herself.

"You were saying...Similar characteristics...She didn't like them. Then what happened?" Sloan asked.

Gail gave Sloan a stern look, bit her quivering lip and stated, "She made up her mind to go and visit the Eastern Cell Repository and have a talk with the manager."

"What?" Sloan shouted. "That is unheard of. Highly irregular," he roared.

"There is more," winced Gail. "Apparently she managed not only to talk her way into speaking with the manager but she ended up receiving a grand tour of the place and was even allowed to pick her own cell samples for creativity."

"Surely you're joking. That's damn well skirting the law!" yelled Sloan, forgetting himself and banging down his cut hand upon the arm of the couch.

"OW, FUCK!" he screamed, shaking his hand wildly in an effort to ward off the pain. "How many times did she go there?" Sloan demanded to know.

"Just twice I believe. They started sending us a proper mix of samples after that. They didn't want her back she had laughed."

"Proper?" Sloan echoed, in a bug-eyed stare.

"I mean an equal amount of opposite attraction cells like we used to get before. Dorrissa had this idea that her birthing lab would produce the best batches of Crehus in the country, bar none. In order to do that, she believed that her cell samples had to show little or no proclivity for same sex attraction."

"You say this all started around five years ago?" asked Sloan, trying hard to be less emotional in his actions.

"Yes. Dorrissa told me we should have a contest. She would make two dozen Crehus and I would also. We would watch them as they grew and monitor their good points and bad, similarities and differences, and that our studies would go a long way in determining the future success of our birthing lab. Not all of her samples took however she told me. She ended up with just twenty-three successful matches. Her kids she called them. Dorrissa would visit them fairly regularly and write down things in a journal."

"A journal?" asked Sloan.

"Yes," replied Gail.

"Did you ever see it?"

"No. She kept it locked in her drawer. May I get another drink?"

"Yes," answered Sloan, gulping his down. Make me another also."

As Gail was mixing the drinks, Sloan was reviewing, in his mind, all that he had heard. He didn't understand how all this could have escaped his notice. He had let his guard down. He had been too preoccupied with his own career, his own success, to continue a watchful eye on the two people he despised most. A pent up anger, directed at himself, seethed through his subconscious. It was almost ready to explode when he heard Gail say, "That is why it is all so peculiar."

Sloan looked at Gail hovering over the bar mixing drinks.

"What's so peculiar?" he asked.

"How she made up her mind to transfer the kids. Just like that. After almost five years of primping and priming over them just like a mother hen. Mine I hardly see. Who cares? She...On the other hand...," Gail paused. "And all the other transfers that we ever did before, between our two centers, had always involved older Crehus. They were never that young. These are mere infants."

"Where did she send them?" enquired Sloan.

"They went to the Morningside Child Rearing Center. Not all of our transfers happen there but the majority has definitely taken place with Morningside over the past five years, even if it is out of our local area. The transfers first started, as a matter of fact, right around the same time Dorrissa created her group of kids."

Sloan sat upright in his seat.

"Out of your local area, you say? How did Dorrissa manage that?"

Both centers got special permission to make exchanges from the Minister of Creation for study purposes," replied Gail.

"I see," said Sloan, while interlocking his fingers and resting them in his lap.

"Anyway, over time Dorrissa became friends with the superintendent of the Morningside Child Rearing Center. Bruce is his name. In fact, she introduced him to Jack's secretary Becka and now they are partnered. Curiously enough, he looks like Jack."

Sloan's face grew ashen white at the mention of Becka's name. The third most despised person on his hate list.

"And you received Crehu children of the same age group back from Morningside in exchange?" Sloan wanted to know.

"Yes. Strangely enough, they arrived well before the driver of our own bus returned and he left early in the morning. Their driver didn't leave until much later. Apparently our bus had an accident on the way back. It blew a tire and crashed into a ditch, finally returning with a tow late in the afternoon. The whole process had Dorrissa in an emotional tizzy. So much so, that she called Jack and convinced him to take a weeks' vacation. She needed it to unwind, she said. It's all so weird."

"Do you know where they are going?"

"She didn't say. She never tells me anything."

"Do you know Dorrissa's home number? I don't recall it off hand."

"Of course, I had forgotten. You used to be their boarder didn't you."

"A long time ago. And you can do me the courtesy of forgetting again thank you," said Sloan, abruptly.

"No problem. And yes I know her number," replied Gail.

"I want you to call her at home now."

"But it's almost midnight?"

The icy stare on Sloan's face said it all.

"Of course, right away," Gail gulped.

"If she answers just hang up."

Gail phoned, but there was no answer.

"I want you to go to work tomorrow. Screw the fact that it's Saturday. I want you to go to Dorrissa's office and get me that journal. I don't care if you have to break her fucking desk open to do it. I want you to look through all the files and records and find me everything you can about those kids. Whatever. Here is a card with my private number on it. You can reach me any time of the day. Call me as soon as you finish searching. Whether you find anything...Or don't find anything...You understand?"

"Yes of course," said Gail, emphatically.

"Now," said Sloan, standing, slightly groggy, "I've had a bit too much to drink. I really should be getting to bed. I'll have my driver take you home," he added.

Home! Home! That is not where I want to be, thought Gail. Sure, she may be a few years older than Sloan but certainly not enough to matter. She was still fairly attractive...Even if she could be a bitch at times. Looking around she saw a lifestyle she could only dream about. She wanted it so bad she could...Well...You know.

"But it is soooo late," said Gail standing also. "Couldn't I just spend the night and leave in the morning. I could sleep on the couch here if you don't want to..." she let the words trail off, as she watched for a reaction.

Not getting a response, Gail quickly added, "You won't even know I'm here."

"Whatever. Suit yourself. But you might as well use a bedroom. It's not like they are in short supply."

"I could fix you up...Before you go. Make you sleep rrrreal well," said Gail, as she opened her mouth seductively, pursed her lips, and drew her tongue across the upper one, flicking it back and forth.

This time she got the response she was looking for. She watched as a bulge began to form inside of Sloan's trousers. Slowly...Reaching out...Hand quivering...She unzipped him, watching eagerly as his manhood pounced from within.

Looking across into Sloan's eyes, she watched him as a sneer formed upon his lips. Lifting his arms, he placed his hands onto her shoulders and applied pressure forcing her down upon her knees.

There it was...In front of her...Dangling...Ready and waiting. She looked up at Sloan and smiled. Yes, she thought, gladly.

Bruce and Becka pulled into the laneway and up to the house. Shelly, who had been watching from the front window, ran out to welcome them.

"Hi. Are we the last to arrive?" asked Bruce.

"No. We're still waiting for Jack and Dorrissa, Paul and Hope, and Tim and Elaine. Come on in. I have coffee on," said Shelly.

"Love some," said Becka. "Where are the kids? Just gotta see them."

Shelly laughed.

"Everyone, well most everyone, is down at the lodge. We can go down in a sec. Come in and say hi first."

Just then the phone rang. Steven answered. It was Paul.

"Where are you?" asked Steven.

"We're at a motel on the outskirts of town. I'm in a communication booth in the parking lot."

Paul told Steven what had just taken place. He was beside himself with remorse. How could he have been so careless?

"It's not your fault," comforted Steven. "Just the same, you had better check in. No telling where that controller is or whether or not he'll drop by later to make sure you got there. He could be watching you right this minute so we only have a few seconds. Better spend the night. Have everyone up by six o'clock. One of us will be in the parking lot to direct you back. I know you think you'll be able to recognize the turnoff in the daylight but let's not take anymore chances. Best be going now. We'll talk to you in the morning."

"Damn," said Steven, as he hung up the phone. "Paul got pulled over by a controller."

"God help us!" cried Shelly, fearing the worst.

"It's okay. He let them off. Their files were all clean thank goodness. Paul was having a hard time finding us in the dark and he got pulled over for driving too slowly and looking suspicious," said Steven.

"Let that be a lesson to you. Always speed wherever you go," chimed in Bruce.

"Bruce!" Becka scolded.

"Hey, just kidding. Dad said he was okay."

"Where is he now?" pleaded Shelly, showing much more concern than she thought Bruce evidently did.

"They are all in a motel just past town. One of us...Hello Bruce...Will have to go get them in the morning and bring them back. At six a.m.," said Steven.

"Ouch," winced Bruce.

"It's not safe to get them now. Thank God he let them go," added Steven. "So grab a coffee you guys and Shelly will take you down to see the children. I'm going to wait here for Jack and Dorrissa."

"I'll wait with you," offered Bruce.

Becka followed Shelly down to the lodge. As soon as they were gone, Bruce opened up. "This isn't good is it? I was only pretending to joke around so the girls wouldn't freak out. Relieve the tension."

"I know that Bruce. I'm sure they do too. And no, it's not good. Not by a long shot. Controllers always spell trouble. No matter which way you look at it. I'm worried about Jack and Dorrissa. I don't like it one bit. They should have been here by now.

"Don't you worry about Jack, Dad. He'll make it here okay."

Dad...Could he ever get used to being called Dad? He certainly hoped so. Within thirty minutes or so his prayers had been answered. Jack and Dorrissa finally made it and were all smiles. Jumping out of the car and spreading his arms wide open to greet Steven and Bruce as they rushed outside, Jack said, "And so it begins," beaming ear to ear.

With bear hugs all-round, Steven bid them both inside.

"How are the children? Are they okay?" asked Dorrissa, apprehensively.

"Of course," said Steven. "We'll see them in a minute. Come inside. There is something I want to talk to you both about."

Steven explained the situation about Paul and the others. Jack volunteered to go in the morning, but Steven believed the best person to go would be Dr. Foxing. Him being the most remote person anyone would be looking for. The least likely to be listed on a controller's all points bulletin.

"There is something I want to show you," said Steven. "Follow me."

They followed Steven into his bedroom where he opened his closet door, its contents exploding upon their startled eyes.

"Guns?" said Dorrissa.

"It's a bloody arsenal!" exclaimed Bruce.

"Where did you get these?" asked Jack.

"They were under the floorboards in the lodge, hidden away for who knows how long. Susan found them when we were getting it ready for the children," replied Steven. "But that's not all. There is lots of ammunition, two pairs of binoculars, and four two way communication devices. They are solar powered and work perfectly. Shelly and I checked them out. We were way out of sight of each other. In the bush she came through as clear as a bell. You've never seen anything like it," said Steven.

"Quite the stash," remarked Bruce.

"You are not thinking of using those guns are you?" asked Dorrissa.

"You bet we are," said Jack, never one for pacifism...Especially if it meant a dead pacifist. "We need all the help we can get."

"This is great Dad. What a find!" Bruce said eagerly.

"Those were my thoughts on the matter exactly boys, when I saw them," said Steven.

"Do the others know?" asked Dorrissa.

"Hmm? Not the doctor. Or Ava," said Steven.

"Or Becka...Not yet," said Bruce.

"We will tell them all tonight," promised Steven. "I'm worried about Paul and the others though. Their being stopped has kind of thrown a monkey wrench into our plans. Paul is supposed to go back on Monday morning and get a truck to transport the children. I think that we may be pushing our luck if we continue to follow through with that plan. I know this lodge was supposed to be a short term arrangement but I was thinking of a few weeks rather than a few days."

"Things happen for reasons," said Jack. "Perhaps it's just as well. Let's try and get out of here as quickly as possible. Before the government knows the children are missing. Before they find out who is responsible. I'm thinking...Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" said Dorrissa, almost mesmerized by Jack's words.

"I think Jack is right," sided Steven.

"I agree," said Bruce.

"We just have to figure out transportation, somehow, someway," said Jack.

"Here. Let me close up this closet and we'll go down to see the children. Don't be surprised if they are all sleeping. I'm sure everyone is wondering where you two are by now," Steven said, to Jack and Dorrissa. "We can look at these and plan more about this later."

The sun was just starting to lighten up the horizon when Gail awoke. In a strange bed, in a strange room, where was she? Then it all started to come together. She was in a spare bedroom at Sloan's apartment. Gail smiled, quite pleased with herself that she had pulled it off, as she relived the whole scenario in her mind. Quickly going to the bathroom, that being the cause of her waking up, she set out to find Sloan's bedroom; with not a stitch on. Ah, there he is, she thought to herself. Sound asleep. Moving slowly, ever so cautiously so not to wake him, she tip-toed over to the bed in all her naked splendor.

Gently and unobtrusively, Gail pulled down the covers to show his nakedness. Not a bad body considering. But what was with the tattoo? What was that all about? Never mind, it didn't matter. She was not about to blow this. Gail giggled, delighted with her pun. Not going to blow this chance of seducing him, she meant.

She would not ask about the tattoo. Not even notice it. Pretend that it was an unsightly scar and staring at it would only bring severe punishment. Not unless he mentioned it. She would just gaze upon his face. Gail eased herself onto the bed beside him and, with a repeat of last night's performance, immediately proceeded to bring him to the point of arousal. Once accomplished, she straddled Sloan and guided him home. Up and down, gently at first, oh so gently. Gail smiled as she watched the expression on Sloan's face change. She watched as he started to stir.

Sloan could feel something warm, moist, pleasurable, happening to him. He started to stretch, his whole body flexed as Gail felt him growing even bigger. He slowly opened his eyes. Gail could actually feel him stretch. Feel him stretch inside of her. What a magnificent feeling, she thought.

"Hello sexy," she whispered, as she arched her back amidst quickening thrusts, placing her hands on his thighs, then half closing her eyes and moaning.

"Wha...What...are you doing here?" moaned Sloan, in utter ecstasy.

"You...asked me...to wake you...up...said...you had a...busy day. Don't...you remember?" panted out Gail between thrusts, in barely audible sentences.

It didn't matter. Sloan was too caught up in the pleasure and the passion of the moment. It had been a long time. He didn't know it, but the same could be said of Gail. In a matter of minutes it was all over. They had reached a dual climax together. Or so Gail had led him to believe. Easing her off his body, Sloan said, "Well that was nice. Perhaps I should trade in my government siren for you?"

Gail bristled with excitement at the thought.

"Excuse me. But I've got to take a shower," said Sloan.

"Can I squeeze in?" said Gail, leaning up on one arm.

"I'm not really sure I'm up for that," he deadpanned. "Besides you're a secretary aren't you?"

"Senior assistant and as of now acting superintendent I'll have you know," Gail pointed out.

"Whatever. I'd like you to phone the airport right away and get me on the first flight to Ottawa. Book two seats."

Gail smiled.

"Not for you Sweetheart. You're going to the office today, are you forgetting?"

"Oh yea," she said, giving off a dainty little pout.

"When you finish reserving the two seats I want you to phone the Eastern Cell Repository and get the manager, what's his name?" asked Sloan, as he threw on a bathrobe.

"Michael. His name is Michael."

"You get the name of the person you're talking to and tell them to get a hold of Michael and have him meet me at the airport with a car when I arrive. If he's not there waiting for me, it's both their asses. You tell them that."

"Yes Sir," beamed Gail.

"Then you can have your shower," said Sloan, as he retired for his.

Six o'clock in the morning came and Paul and the others vacated their room and trundled off to their car to wait. Before too long, a vehicle pulled up beside them. It was Dr. Foxing. They recognized the doctor right off. Quickly placing his finger to his lips, motioning quiet, he shook his head no for them not to follow as he exited his vehicle. The motel doubled as an off road restaurant. In the doctor trudged to partake of its facilities. Back outside, with a large coffee in his hand, he slowly walked along surveying the surroundings. Satisfied that all looked well, Dr. Foxing nodded his head once inside his vehicle to signify that they should follow him. It would be an understatement to say that more than a few hearts were in their mouths on that drive back.

Once down the long laneway and into Steven's driveway, which was set a good distance back from the road, the sigh of relief was shared by all.

"Oh thank you, thank you so much Doctor," as everyone's gratefulness resounded through the morning mist.

"Please, let me formally introduce myself, one time, first and last. Dr. William Foxing at your service," smiled the doctor. But you may call me Bill, enough of this formality."

"Thank God you made it!" exclaimed Shelly, as she ran outside to the sound of loud voices, Susan and Alice right behind her.

"We were all so worried," said Susan, as she hugged everyone closely.

"Goodness Gracious. I couldn't sleep a wink worrying about you," expressed Alice, charging in for some of her own hugs.

"Oh no?" said Paul, grinning widely. "I slept like a baby!"

"Not," said Hope.

"Liar," chimed in both Tim and Elaine.

"Come into the house," ordered Shelly. "Voices can carry in this mist."

"Speaking of sleeping like a baby, where are they?" asked Paul. "Where is Sarah?"

"What did you say?" asked Hope, clearly bewildered.

"What's he talking about?" asked Tim.

"Oh you are a sly one," smiled Susan, to Paul.

"Come inside," said Alice. "We'll tell you all about it."

Hair slicked back, fresh shirt and tie, newly pressed suit, and shoes that sparkled, Sloan walked into the front room. There was no Gail. He could hear the shower running from the spare bedroom though.

"Bloody Hell," he bellowed.

Proceeding to march down the hall and into her room with the purposeful intent of suffocating her with verbal abuse, Sloan stopped as he noticed a piece of paper beside the phone. Picking it up, he read it.

Departure time 9:00 a.m.

Arrival time 10:00 a.m.

Michael will be there to meet you or shall find his ass on next flight to the Artic!

Sloan's laughter was unrestrained.

"She is good. She is real good," he said out loud, thoroughly amused.

Then all of a sudden it hit him. Like a bolt of lightning. He had to sit down on the bed. This was so not like him...To have this happy internal feeling? Certainly not when there were such grievous misdeeds staring him in the face? No. Not misdeeds. They were definitely crimes. Yes. Crimes for certain. He was sure of it. He would absolutely get to the bottom of it. Find out what was going on. But...Could it be? Could all this time? Could all his life? Could he really be...A heterosexual? As opposed to homosexual? Sloan shuddered at the thought. Yet...He could not dispel the lingering doubt that permeated and percolated inside his brain. Pushing it far back into its recesses to ferment, Sloan picked up the phone and punched in Trent 239D36. For Trent was now a full fledged doctor.

"Hello," answered a voice still half asleep.

"Ah, you're up. And a good morning to you," said Sloan sarcastically.

"Who the hell is this?" demanded Trent.

"You don't recognize your old pal from the past?"

"Sloan? Sloan is that you?"

"Congratulations kid. You've won first prize."

"What the hell do you want at this ungovernmently hour?" Trent howled.

"One of the Artic compounds' is in need of a new doctor," chuckled Sloan, as he glanced at Gail's note. "I thought you might be interested in the position."

That statement managed to bring a much needed wake-up call to Trent. He was firmly reminded of just who it was he was talking to.

"You're joking right?" quivered Trent.

"Can you do D.N.A. testing on cells and tell if they are from who they are supposed to be from?" asked Sloan.

"Well...Yes, I suppose," said Trent.

"Yes or no, what is it?" Sloan demanded, showing his lack of patience.

"Yes. Yes I can."

"I want you to meet me at the airport no later than 8:30 a.m. No. Better still. I'll be by to get you in twenty minutes. Be downstairs waiting with your bag. You're still living at the same place right?" asked Sloan.

"Yes but..."

"Aren't doctor's salaries wonderful," cracked Sloan. "See you in twenty minutes."

The next call Sloan made was to his bodyguard/chauffeur. He gave him explicit orders to drive Gail to work and to stay with her for the day until he heard from Sloan otherwise. Then he called a cab to take him to the airport.

"Hi ya' Handsome," said Gail, smiling, as she walked into the room dressed in a spare robe, towel in her hair.

"You might want to get dressed. Morty is on his way up."

"Morty?" wondered Gail.

"He's my driver. He will take you to work. Sign him into the Wycliffe Center. I want Morty with you at all times. He's good at helping find things. Or helping people find things that otherwise they might not want to find, if you catch my drift."

"Oh I see. For a minute I thought you might just be concerned for my welfare."

"Always baby," smiled Sloan, "gotta dash. Call me as soon as you find out about that stuff. Get it?"

"Got it boss," said Gail, as she saluted him goodbye.

"I like that. That's my girl," smirked Sloan.

Gail vibrated with glee.

Sloan chuckled to himself as he closed the door. He had a good idea of what Dorrissa might have been up to. All he needed was the proof.

Having finished telling Hope, Tim, and Elaine, about the children, it was all Shelly and the others could do to hold them back from seeing them.

"Soon, very soon, they're still sleeping," said Shelly.

"Have some more coffee," suggested Alice.

Steven was up now and came into the kitchen. Jack and Dorrissa, as well as Bruce and Becka, were still asleep in the extra two bedrooms. Other than Susan, Alice and the doctor, everyone else was bunked in and sleeping with the children. After another cup of coffee, Steven asked Shelly to take Hope and Elaine to see them. It was now time for them to be rising.

"Paul and Tim, if you don't mind, I'd like you to stay here for a few minutes longer with Bill and myself to get your input on something."

"Sure thing, Steven," they both answered.

Steven took them aside and explained their dilemma. There was no way they could make it to the border with children in vehicles in which they could be seen in plain view. Cars would never work. Even a passenger bus would only stand a slim chance, if they could get one. A travel trailer being much too small, they had to get their hands on a government transport truck. Paul was the only one who could drive one and it was much too risky now, Steven believed, for him to make an attempt at obtaining one at his work. His confrontation the night before with a controller had seen to that. There had to be some other way. The men wracked their brains to come up with something.

"Hey, I've got an idea," said Jack, as he wandered into the living room scratching his head. He overheard the conversation, which actually woke him up, from the spare bedroom. Jack had been tossing around different ideas in his head since the wee hours of the morning, long before he turned in, trying to come up with a solution.

"What about those guys with the van? The movers who brought your furniture up here from the city?" asked Jack. "That van would be perfect."

"Yes it would be perfect. But how would you suggest pulling something like that off without them knowing?" asked Steven.

"We have to get them up here first," said Jack. "This is the way I got it figured. They know you, they know where you live, and they know your stuff. You call them up and say to them that you have rented a larger estate, further up north, which can accommodate all your furniture. Unfortunately there is also furniture there, really nice stuff, but you have no room for everything. Yours being of sentimental value, the other furniture would have to be moved back down here.

"You tell them that you understand it would take two full days but that you are prepared to pay for their overnight accommodation, as well as for two moves and throw in a very substantial bonus on top of everything else for such short notice. An extra bonus as well, if no breakage occurs. What do you think?" asked Jack.

"Marvelous, Bloody Marvelous," said Dr. Foxing.

Jack grinned.

"But how would I get them for Monday? They could already be booked up?" said Steven.

"You will have to call them and see. Tell them that there are new renters for this place and they are chomping at the bit to move in as soon as possible. Do you remember the name of the movers?"

"Yes," said Steven. "I still have the invoice they gave me filed away. They call themselves B&B MOVERS, short for Bill and Bob."

"Well it's almost eight. Why don't we grab some chow and you can phone them after breakfast," suggested Jack.

"Never mind breakfast. I want to see the children," said Tim.

"Me too," added Paul.

"I'll take them down," offered Dr. Foxing.

"Thanks Bill," said Steven. "I'll go get that invoice the movers gave me. It has their phone number on it."

Sloan and Trent got into Ottawa at 10:00 a.m., right on schedule. Michael had recognized Sloan from past media events and waved his hand frantically, afraid that he would not see him. Nothing but small talk had passed between Sloan and Trent on the whole trip but that had no bearing on their business and was unimportant.

What was important was that for the first time in his life, Sloan had felt no physical attraction towards Trent whatsoever. The euphoric rush that accompanied that discovery had truly been mind boggling for him and absolutely blew him away.

"Minister Sloan...Sir...Sir...Over here Sir!" cried out Michael. "I have the car right outside Sir!"

Sloan told Trent to sit up front with the driver. No sooner in the car and on the way to the cell repository, Michael opened up with the lead question.

"It's very nice to meet you Sir. I was wondering how I might be of assistance to you?"

Sloan looked over at Michael with a riveted glower. He looked to be such a small mealy-mouthed man. How could he ever have achieved the position of cell repository manager, he wondered? He cowers before me as if he's about to wet himself.

"Do you know a person named Dorrissa?" Sloan asked, belligerently.

Michael gulped.

"Why...err...ah...um..."

"Dorrissa, the Superintendent of the Wycliffe Birthing Lab," Sloan reiterated.

"Um...Yes...but ah...but ah...I haven't seen her for years, really I haven't," Michael insisted.

"I heard she came up and visited you on occasion. About five years ago."

"Ah, yes, yes she did, only twice though, within a few months of each other. She told me she had some concerns about the cell samples she was receiving. She wanted a tour of our operation. She said she wanted to be content that everything was functioning as it should be."

"So you gave her a tour? Do you usually give tours to people in a highly sequestered government institution?" Sloan asked, contemptuously.

"No, of course not," maintained Michael. But she persisted. She insisted. Her rating, her position, she pointed out, gave her complete access into all government institutions concerning creation. I thought it would be alright. I've never since, allowed anyone else in without Ministerial approval. I did let her see the files for cell samples on hand I admit, but she did not have any direct access to the cells themselves. I swear to you," whimpered Michael.

"You swear?" said Sloan.

"Positively. I only let her pick out the samples she wanted and had my workers send the cells to her lab. I myself thoroughly scrutinized all the names that she chose to make sure it was all above board before any delivery was allowed to take place."

"You made sure she didn't pick her own cells?"

"Yes, of course. I'm not stupid," replied Michael.

Sloan just looked at him.

"And yet you let her come back a second time?"

"There...There was a problem. I forget what it was. I...I told her that was the last time...Period...Never again. She was here already. She just showed up. I never saw her again after that...Ever."

Sloan sat and stared at Michael has he mulled things over for a few minutes.

"Are you partnered?" asked Sloan.

"Why...um...ah...No," said Michael. "No, I'm not."

"You think Dorrissa is attractive?" asked Sloan point blankly.

"Well...ah...Yes. Yes, she is," agreed Michael.

"Did you think by seeing her, being with her, letting her have her way, you could perhaps get into her pants? Get a piece of ass? Get your rocks off?"

"No...Not at all. I could never think of such a thing," Michael lied.

"Hmm," muttered Sloan, nodding. "Dorrissa is very attractive. I've seen her up close and personal with her partner Jack. She can be very, very, sexually persuasive. Oh? By the way...Do you know her partner Jack?"

"Why no, I don't. But I know of him. I've seen him on the media screen. A long time ago," answered Michael. "I wouldn't even know if they were still together," he added.

"Oh, they are. I can assure you they are. I can also assure you one other thing," said Sloan coldly.

"What's that?" asked Michael.

"That you will be one sorry little man if I find out that Jack and Dorrissa's cell samples ended up at her birthing lab...A very sorry little man indeed."

"Hello. Is this B&B MOVERS?" said Steven. "Is this Bill? Bob. Hello Bob. You might remember me. You moved a house full of furniture for me a few years back, up to Foot's Bay."

"Mr. Laurence! Yes Sir. How could I forget? You're one of our best customers."

"Thanks Bob. Listen. I'm in a little predicament here."

Steven went on to explain the situation. Bob wished that he and Bill could be of assistance but the plain fact of the matter was that they were booked solid for the next week for sure, beginning with a very large job on Tuesday morning.

"Just a minute Mr. Laurence, Bill just came in. Let me verify that booking."

Steven held the phone to his ear as he heard the two men converse in the background. He felt real bad about what he and the others were planning to do, Bob being so polite and all, but they were at their wits end for a way to save the children. This seemed to be the only way out. Neither man would be hurt. Only held captive until everyone was safe across the border. All he needed was their van and he would pay them handsomely to get it.

"Hello? Mr. Laurence?"

"Yes Bob, I'm here."

"This is Bill, eh?"

"Oh. Hello Bill."

"Mr. Laurence. If we could come up this afternoon and pack, get everything loaded onto the van and leave first thing tomorrow at the crack of dawn, we could make both trips and still be back in time for Tuesday morning. But it would cost you extra, eh. You would have to agree to three days full pay for Bob and myself, which includes today as a full day, as well as two nights accommodation, including of course the bonuses that you mentioned to Bob. What do you say?"

"How soon can you get here?"

"We're on our way. See you this afternoon, eh."

The chauffeur pulled up in front of the gatehouse at the cell repository.

"Hello Sir. Surprised to see you here on a Saturday," said the guard, to Michael.

"My work never stops," answered Michael, flashing a nervous smile.

"And those two?" asked the guard.

"You don't recognize the Minister of Care?" asked Michael, sternly.

"Oh excuse me Sir. Please excuse me," repeated the guard.

"That's alright," replied Sloan, expressionless. "Nice to see someone doing their job around here," he added, looking over at Michael meaningfully, while Michael fidgeted uneasily in his seat.

Michael signed them in before they walked to the building. Once inside, Sloan asked to see a list of donor names of the cell samples that were transported to Wycliffe as a result of Dorrissa's visits there. Since Michael could not remember the exact dates, and Gail had said it all started about five years ago, it was agreed that all transfer records from the period of four and a half to five and a half years ago would be scrutinized. Sloan also got Michael to immediately check to see if Jack and Dorrissa had any cell samples left in storage and, if not, to find out where they were sent. It was right after he sent Michael on his errand that Sloan received a call from Gail. All that she could find were the exchange files of the new Crehus from Morningside. She had managed to intercept the driver's accident report that Paul had filled out and Dorrissa had dropped in the internal mailbox before it was sent back to the Government Transport Agency.

Dorrissa knew that the agency would have no record of Paul driving the Wycliffe bus of course because he had never been sent by them. However, if she had not sent an accident report it would have garnered suspicion much faster within her own compound. By the time the agency would see it, and put two and two together, they would be long out of the country she reasoned. Besides, she did not use Paul's real identity.

Gail had indeed broken into Dorrissa's desk and that part had been an unmitigated pleasure. Unfortunately, there was no journal or anything else incriminating for that matter. Perhaps she had sent the journal with the children's files to Morningside, Gail told Sloan.

"Who is in charge over there again?" asked Sloan.

"His name is Bruce. Becka's partner, remember?" said Gail.

"Damn it woman!" blasted Sloan.

"I mean today. Saturday," he raged.

"I don't know," said Gail, quite taken back by his tone.

Quickly realizing from her timid response, that of the traditional, befuddled, weaker sex, Sloan calmed down a bit.

"I want you and Morty to go over to Morningside and get me those files. And that damn journal too if it's there, comprendé?"

"Yes Sir, right away," said Gail, all the while wondering how he could be the same person who she had slept with just hours before.

"Let me speak to Morty," he ordered. "Morty?"

"Ya boss."

"You do whatever you have to, to get those files. Understand?"

"Ya boss."

Sloan hung up the phone.

"Excuse me Sir. I have the reports you requested," said Michael. "Only one cell sample remains for both Jack and Dorrissa. Jack's other sample went to a birthing lab in Kingston while Dorrissa's went to London. Here is the paperwork."

"Trent, c'mere!" yelled Sloan.

"Yes," Trent answered.

"I want you to test the D.N.A. on both remaining samples of Jack and Dorrissa's cells to see if in fact they really are theirs."

"But Sir, I must protest. You do no not have the authority to order that done. Both samples will be destroyed in the testing process because we do not have the facilities for a birthing lab here to continue a successful creation and the government prohibits wanton destruction of cell samples," said Michael firmly.

Sloan was momentarily stunned by the impudent gall that the little man was showing. Perhaps he had a backbone after all.

"Fuck! Do you even think for one minute I would allow the making of a Crehu that combined Jack and Dorrissa's cell samples?" shouted Sloan, into the face of the repository manager. "Give me the phone!"

"Prime Minister Billarts please. Tell him it's the Minister of Care on the line. Yes I'll hold. This should only take a minute," Sloan said to Michael.

"Mr. Billarts? Yes Sir, fine Sir...I need your authorization for something."

Sloan went on to tell the Prime Minister of all that he suspected. The Prime Minister was fit to be tied and asked Sloan to keep him informed of events.

"Here," said Sloan, handing the phone to Michael. "Someone wants to talk to you," he added, with a wink and a smirk.

"Yes Sir...Yes Sir," said Michael, eyes bulging out of their sockets, face lit up like a Government Day Firework's Festival.

"Yes Sir, I understand Sir...Goodbye Sir," said Michael, hanging up the phone. "Rachel," shouted Michael, his ears still burning. "Bring me the cell samples for Jack 1145T12 and Dorrissa 172T12. Immediately!"

Over the next hour Trent performed tests on the samples after defrosting them. It was just as Sloan suspected. The D.N.A. was not a match for either of them.

"I don't understand. It's impossible. Only my employees have access to the cell samples," said Michael, frantically.

"She had to have help on the inside," determined Sloan. "There must have been a confident. I want the names of all the workers on shift when Dorrissa was here. You can bet those samples that went to Kingston and London weren't theirs either. I'll get to the bottom of this yet," promised Sloan.

"Excuse me Sir," said Rachel. "Maybe I can help."

"What do you know about this?" asked Sloan.

"I was one of the supervisor's in charge when Dorrissa came to see us that first time. Jane initially saw her the day before I did. She seemed like such a nice lady."

"Yea, yea, go on."

"It was Jane who gave her the tour of the repository and showed her how things worked. The following day, when lunchtime came, Dorrissa did not want to take a break. I offered to stay with her since she said she had so much work to do but she declined my help and said she would be fine. She told me I should go to lunch with the others. We always took our lunch and breaks together as a group," said Rachel.

"I don't allow that anymore. They have to take them in split shifts now," said Michael, being quick to jump in.

Sloan just looked at him stone-faced.

"So you left Dorrissa alone?" Sloan questioned Rachel, defiantly.

"We were just gone one hour, Sir. Just next door in the cafeteria. I thought it would be fine given her high rank and all. She really did seem like such a nice lady."

"Yea, a real charmer I'm sure. That is probably why she came back a second time. She could not have switched all the samples that she must have switched in only one hour," figured Sloan.

"All the samples, Sir? On her second visit I remained with her constantly."

"Yea, sure you did Rachel. Give me that list of names," said Sloan, to Michael.

Going over those names, suddenly it hit him. Howard 1173 and Meg 138 were the two Crehus that were killed in the car crash, the ones that were missing their Dad Chips. Ryan 159 was the Crehu who jumped to his death in the mall to avoid capture. He also had no Dad Chip. Wendy 1249 is Ryan's partner, the woman that they are looking for. It was unbelievable but true. Dorrissa was somehow involved with a Family Survival Group. With her lofty position, she could even be the leader. How in Government's Name...?

"Listen up people. I want you to verify by date records when the cell samples of Howard, Meg, Ryan and Wendy were sent to the Wycliffe Birthing Lab. Next I want the entire name list of donor samples sent to Wycliffe, beginning from the two months previous until the two months succeeding that date, crosschecked for every Cock Sucking name on that list that has any existing samples still left in storage. And I want three copies of that list right now before you do anything else," Sloan told Michael.

"Trent?"

"Yes Sir,"

"I want you to check the D.N.A. on every existing cell sample still in storage on that short list as soon as they get it. Each and every one, no matter how long it takes! And I don't want to hear any crap about any damn oaths or vows you took as a doctor to uphold life as something sacred either. I already heard enough of that shit today from Dickhead over there."

Sloan picked up the phone and again called the Prime Minister telling him everything. Mr. Billerts was astounded by what Sloan had uncovered. He wanted to place all the perpetrators names and faces on the National Media Screen as soon as they became known to them under the heading Wanted Dead or Alive. If only they still had their Dad Chips embedded in them the government could trace and destroy them instantaneously.

Sloan did not want to alert the media just yet. Not only was he worried about warning them, that the government was wise to what was going on, but exactly what had happened was not something he desired the general public to know. Sloan suggested having lightning-fast raids on all the dwellings of Crehus that were on her list, hopefully catching them all unawares. Everyone was suspect.

Of course he realized that not all of the Crehus on the list would be guilty of unlawful fraternization concerning Family Survival Groups, but questioned all they would be. He wanted the ones that had their Dad Chips removed most of all. He needed to know how it was done and who did it. Sloan also suggested putting a lockdown and extra guards on Morningside just in case any of Dorrissa's group came around to see the kids. No sooner than ending his call with the Prime Minister, he received another from Gail.

"Dorrissa's Crehus are not here!" Gail blurted out.

"What?" Sloan howled, exploding into a rage.

"No children ever came. It was a direct transfer of children from Morningside to Wycliffe yesterday. Not an exchange. The duplicate copy of the paperwork they have here says transfer but the one that went to Wycliffe said exchange. I'm sure of it."

"Where is the Wycliffe paperwork?" asked Sloan.

"I left it back at Wycliffe. I didn't know I needed it here," replied Gail.

"Go back there and get the paperwork now!" ordered Sloan, very upset by this turn of events. "Who was driving that bus with the children? Did you get a look at the driver?"

"No, he was inside. I wasn't even supposed to be at work yesterday."

"That's probably why Dorrissa picked that day, wouldn't you say?" Without waiting for a response to his sarcasm, Sloan continued, "Obviously she didn't want you to know. But we do know. And we'll use that to our advantage. We shall track each and every one of them down like the dogs that they are."

"The paperwork for the accident report has the name of the driver on it. We can find him from that," suggested Gail.

"It's probably been doctored with a phony name just like I'm sure you'll find the children's exchange papers were. A fucking piece of top notch forgery I'm betting it is too. That's the bloody last time you'll see child exchange done in this country, I guarantee you that," said Sloan. "But experiencing the bad luck of that accident may have just tripped them up enough to give us a lead. You will grab that report also when you get back to Wycliffe."

"There is something else," said Gail.

"What?"

"Bruce just started a week's vacation also," said Gail, holding her breath for Sloan's expected reply of profanity.

Dead silence came from the other end of the phone. Finally...Sloan spoke.

"I might have known. Jack and Dorrissa, and Bruce and Becka. I'm sure a quick check will find her on vacation too. What a cozy foursome. I want you to call the Government Transport Agency before you head back to Wycliffe. Have them make available for me photos of all their present employees along with their personnel files. I also want a backup dossier of ex-employees that can drive buses going back five years. Can you manage that?"

"Yes Sir," said Gail.

"I'm leaving for the airport now for a return flight. As soon as I know my arrival time I will call you with it. Have Morty meet me as soon as the plane lands. I want you to have, as I mentioned previously, the children's exchange/transfer papers and the bus accident report. Bring anything else you may find that merits a look. From the airport we will be proceeding straight to the Government Transport Agency. Any questions?"

"No Sir," said Gail.

"Good. Goodbye."

"Michael," Sloan shouted.

"Yes Sir," Michael came running.

"Bruce is the name of the Superintendent at the Morningside Child Rearing Center. His partner, named Becka, just happens to be Jack's secretary. That's right," said Sloan, seeing the look on Michael's face, "Dorrissa's Jack. If they have any samples on file give them to Trent at once to analyze. I doubt very much that the D.N.A. will match up. I'm off to the airport and back to Toronto. Keep me informed of Trent's progress. You have my number."

"Yes Sir," said Michael.

"Oh, and Michael," said Sloan, before he turned and walked down the hall.

"Yes Sir."

"I'm not finished with you or this whole miserable occurrence. I just wanted to let you know," Sloan sneered, indignantly.

Chapter 14

"It's the moving van," cried out Jack. "They're here."

Steven got up and dashed out to greet them.

"Hey guys. You made good time. Did you have any problems remembering how to get here?"

"Mr. Laurence. How are you Sir? No. No problems. I've got a memory like a computer, eh," said Bill.

"Well good for you Bill," said Steven.

"Hey, pretty good memory yourself. You remembered which one was me, eh."

"Actually Bill...It was a lucky guess. I did have a 50/50 shot at it though," laughed Steven.

"We should take this rig down to the old lodge and start loading up," yelled Bob from the passenger's seat.

"Oh, I've...ah...Got some friends down there helping with the move. They are not finished loading the smaller delicate items yet."

"Didn't know ex-Prime Ministers had any friends," chortled Bill. "Just kidding, eh," he quickly added.

"Please, come inside, both of you. I've just put on a fresh pot of coffee."

"Ah, no thanks," said Bob. "I'm all coffee'd out. I could use your can though."

"Sure thing," replied Steven. You come in too Bill. I'd like to discuss this move with you both."

The men climbed out of their van and entered the house.

"Have a seat Bill. The washroom is over there Bob. Bill will you join me?" asked Steven, as he poured himself a cup of java.

"Don't mind if I do."

Bob came out of the washroom and joined the men at the table.

"So where are you moving to?" Bob asked Steven.

"The U. S. of A." replied Steven, without missing a beat.

"What in blazes...?" came Bob's astonished retort.

Steven stood up and removed a suitcase full of money from his lower kitchen cupboard. He placed it on the table, opened it up, and slid it across in front of them. The majority of it was money he had been squirreling away for a considerable length of time and had been destined for his U.S. bank account. Susan had added a sizable amount to the pot and the others threw in what they could. Both men's eyes were riveted on the stash.

"I need the use of your van for tomorrow," Steven continued. "One day, I'm hoping, is all I need it for. There is almost one hundred thousand dollars in that suitcase. You can have all of it. That's more than enough to cover what I said I'd give you. It's much more in fact."

Bill looked at Steven. Looked at the money, and then looked at Steven again. He reached out and touched it, grabbing a handful and watching as the one and two hundred dollar coins trickled through his fingers and back into the case.

"What is this all about?" questioned Bob. "No one throws money around like that. Not even ex-Prime Ministers."

"Have you ever seen children?" asked Steven.

"What, little Crehu kids? Nobody has," replied Bob, adamantly.

"There are twenty-three of them here. We have to get them across the border, my friends and I. That is why we need your van."

"Why are you telling us this? You get caught and we'll all end up at Hotel California. I'm not getting involved in this," said Bob.

"You're already involved. I'm sorry Bob. There was no other way of doing this, considering the time factor, without endangering the lives of the children."

"Hey...He's right man," said Bill. "And like...There's a lot of money here man. More than we can make in months, eh."

"Sorry man. I'm not getting involved in this shit. It's Fuckin' Suicide," screamed Bob as he jumped up from the table.

With that said and done, the door flew open from one of the spare bedrooms.

"Didn't you hear your friend agreeing? You're already involved. You had better sit back down. I've been curious to find out whether this old thing still works."

Bob looked dazed and surprised as he seen Jack standing bare-chested in the doorway pointing a shotgun directly at him. Jack was scared himself...But wasn't showing it. He had used his best tough guy impersonation that he could muster, garnered from years of watching action flicks.

"Please Bob, sit down," said Steven. "We don't want to hurt you."

"Just in case you were wondering, it is loaded. Better do as the man says," suggested Jack.

Bob, very wisely, sat back down.

"There are a couple of options here," offered Steven. "You could help us escape. No one knows the children are missing so no one is looking for us. You would be relatively safe and your movements would not be restricted. Or you could be tied up. Left here or brought along, we haven't decided. We of course will free you or see that you are freed after we have reached our objective. We do have another person that can drive your truck if you were wondering. We could always use the additional help though. In any case, help or no help, the money is yours to keep. You can also have everything here, furniture, the whole works. If anything happens to your van, I have your address and I promise you will be fully reimbursed for its entire value," said Steven.

"There is another option guys," said Jack. "You could come with us. You could escape this dictatorial government hell-hole and be free. Live free in The United States of America."

Bill and Bob looked at each other.

"Just think," Jack continued, "you would never have to worry about looking over your shoulder again. Always checking who is watching what you're doing, continually wondering if one day, sooner or later, you might run afoul of the law. Now is your chance to leave this evil government behind and truly enjoy the rest of your lives. Never have the worry of Artic imprisonment dangling over your heads. If you ever slip up in your lifetime and think you'll come out of it with a slap on your wrist, think again. You'd be dreaming in Technicolor. Believe me. I know how things work around here. Steven knows how things work around here. That's why we're leaving.

"I'm sure you have both witnessed the terribly unfortunate inhabitants in the Family Survival Group Containment Center on the media screen. Imagine the fate of the poor miserable wretches sentenced to Artic prison compounds. Most of those people don't belong in either of those places. Enemies of the government they were deemed to be. Forsaken wretches they are now for sure. We even know how to remove your Dad Chips safely once you get across the border. Look here," said Jack, lifting up his arm to reveal a long scar in his armpit.

"We have all had our Dad Chips removed. There can be no monitoring of us or tracking us down now. And the government has no reason to be monitoring you two. However, we can only remove your Dad Chips safely over there. Just think. No more government monitoring while at the same time living in a truly free country. One of the last this world has to offer. Americans can thank their Declaration of Independence for that. I know we do.

"Of course if you prefer to remain in Canada. That is completely up to you. The government does not know that the children are missing. They are looking for a couple of us yes, but most of us have just started week long vacations and we will not be missed at all. With God on our side, and you may not believe in him but he believes in you, we should be safe across the border long before the government realizes we're missing. If you decide to stay here you should be able to get back home well before your Tuesday appointment. And you'd have all that money too. Either way, stay or come, like Steven said, the money is yours irregardless.

"Live out your lives here if that's what you want. But the option to escape with us is still open to you. Right until that last split second when you have to finally decide. What d'ya say fellas?"

The two men looked at each other again.

"He does have a point, eh" said Bill. "Perhaps we can be back home by Tuesday, richer but no one else the wiser."

"You are right about one thing," said Bob to Jack. "Being tied up is not an option. If you left us here and the controllers found us, or no matter where they found us, we'd be screwed. We could tell them the truth. Tell them that our van was taken from us by force. Even if we proved it was I know the government wouldn't turn around and say, "It is okay boys. It's not your fault they got away". There is only guilty. Innocence doesn't seem to make a difference in this country anymore...If it ever did for that matter."

"That's true Bob. Guilt or innocence hasn't mattered for a long time. The Peoples Government lives by the motto 'The End Justifies the Means'. Why don't you both come with me and I'll show you exactly who you are being asked to help save," said Steven.

"The kids you mean?" asked Bob. "Why would the government hurt kids?"

"I'll explain on the way," said Steven.

Sloan arrived back at Toronto Airport at 5:45 p.m. Gail and Morty were waiting for him. He looked over the documents that Gail had brought while Morty drove them north to the Government Transport Agency office. Once there, Sloan and Gail viewed the personnel files and pictures of their drivers. No faces immediately stood out. Sloan crosschecked the names on file with his list.

"This guy Paul 163B16 is on Dorrissa's list. It's gotta be him. Is he working today?" Sloan asked the shift foreman.

"No. He's off this weekend but he'll be in Monday morning."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," said Sloan.

Getting Paul's address, Sloan called his office to arrange a crack squad of his Care Force to meet him outside Paul's dwelling. Precisely at 8:00 p.m. Sloan ordered the door broken down. Paul and Hope's place was thoroughly searched but there was nothing remiss. Not a clue turned up to aid Sloan in determining Paul or the children's whereabouts.

While still there, Sloan received a call from Michael back at the repository. He had a list of all the names from which Dorrissa had chosen the available cell samples for procreation which included the samples that had supposedly been spoiled in her lab for which replacement ones had been sent. Sloan crosschecked the names with his list. Teams of agents and controllers were standing by, ready to raid all addresses of the Crehus on the list. Concerning the cell samples that Dorrissa had drawn from the repository, any remaining ones were checked and all had tested positive as proper D.N.A. matches. Hundreds of samples had been destroyed in the process of proving their legitimacy.

Sloan phoned the Crehu Command Center to implement tracking of the names on his list prior to the raids taking place. He was in a restaurant with Gail and Morty, grabbing a quick bite, when he got a call back from the command center.

"Excuse me Sir," said the night supervisor.

"Yes, what is it?" Sloan inquired.

"The Crehus on that list you gave me. A number of them are not showing up on radar at all. It's as if they are dead. But we checked the dead files. A couple of them are, in fact, not with us anymore. But the majority of them should be. We just can't get a reading on them."

Taking out his list and a pen, Sloan said, "Give me their names and numbers."

"Jack 1145, Dorrissa 172, Timothy 143, Elaine 1216, Shelly 1346, Wendy 1249, Monica 213, Paul 163, Hope 172, Ava 281, Rhonda 282, Bruce 187, Becka 2114, Alice 1246 and Eloise 227."

"Is that it?" asked Sloan.

"Yes Sir. All the others are confirmed dead or we have them on tracking monitor."

"I want the ones on tracking all brought in immediately for questioning. Take them to the Downtown Toronto Holding Center. I also want six man teams of controllers sent out to every residence where you cannot receive a tracking. I want their residences searched thoroughly. I'm on my way to the holding center now."

"Yes Sir. I will keep you posted," said the command center supervisor, before signing off.

"Leave the rest," Sloan told Gail and Morty. "We've got to go."

Walking to the lodge, Steven told Bill and Bob about the children. The reason they were special and who their 'real parents' were. There was no purpose in keeping it a secret from them anymore and by knowing the truth, Steven hoped they would offer their help willingly. Jack followed behind with the shotgun, just in case. From now on their guard must always be up regardless of their surroundings. After meeting the others in the lodge and seeing the children, it was agreed to spend the rest of the day devising a plan of action, a plan of escape. They also had to load the truck with all the traveling essentials that they would need such as blankets, food, water, empty buckets for waste disposal, etcetera.

On the way to the holding center Sloan quizzed Gail about Dorrissa's comings and goings. Did she have any idea how she and such a large Family Survival Group could have removed their Dad Chips and thus avoid monitoring? Paul, the driver of the school bus, was indeed one of the group's members. Gail had no idea. Of course Sloan did not tell her what he had so recently learned. Courtesy of Mr. Billarts, he had been told that a person's Dad Chip could be dissolved instantly ending their life. Sloan wondered if Dorrissa's Family Survival Group knew that or if they had only wanted their Dad Chips removed so their whereabouts could not be monitored.

If they were in government vehicles, the position of the vehicle could be monitored by the onboard tracking device. Even considering that the majority of the population had no access to vehicles, in fact do not even know how to drive, there were still far too many private vehicles on the road. The cost of government monitoring for all of them was much too prohibitive and never considered, seeing that Crehus themselves could be monitored.

Sloan got on the phone and placed a call to Mr. Billarts. What was once just a hunch had become a very serious situation that required immediate government intervention. The Prime Minister finished talking with Sloan and summoned all of his ministers for an emergency cabinet meeting. It would take place at 8:00 a.m. Sunday morning in the Great Hall of Parliament. Most of Saturday night and the early hours of Sunday morning would be required by Sloan to interrogate and cross examine the people on his list. He would join the cabinet in the morning with all the information he could gather.

It was not too long after he had arrived, that his men started bringing in the suspect Crehus. Out of the many that started to accumulate, Sloan had a few names highlighted on his list. Jason 1137, Phillip 1158, Rodney 183, Alex 1211, and Matthew 1126, all had both cell samples asked for and received by Dorrissa on the pretext that the first samples she received were accidentally spoiled. But all had their Dad Chips still implanted and working fine. What was their connection, wondered Sloan?"

"Let's start with you," he said, pointing to Jason. "Bring him in there." Sloan pointed a room out to his men.

One by one, Sloan interrogated the five men. They didn't know Dorrissa. They didn't know Jack. They didn't know anyone on the list. They didn't even know each other. He threatened them, he beat them, and he gave them all lie detector tests administering a secret formula of drugs intravenously that used sodium pentothal as a base. All night long Sloan worked on them to no avail. He learned nothing. Midnight was approaching when he got his first big break.

None of the Crehus that were not registering on the monitors were found in their residences of course, but one of them was of special interest to Sloan. A young Crehu named Ava 281. Apparently she lived alone and was a doctor's nurse/receptionist. The word doctor percolated in his brain. Sloan ordered his men to pay a call at both the good doctor's home and office. He continued his interrogation while he waited for news. By 3:00 a.m. it was forthcoming. There was no sign of the doctor at his residence. Sloan was told a note left on the doctor's office door said that it would be closed for a week while he was on vacation and another physician's communication number was left for patients to call in case of emergency.

"Hmm, I can't wait for next week to end so I can finally get a chance to meet all these people who are on vacation," said Sloan, in a retort of sarcasm to his men.

"Also Sir," said the crew chief, "we've raided all the homes on your list but we can find no address or existing personal file even, for Shelly 1346T20.

"Maybe she's dead," said Sloan. "Didn't the command center say some of the people on Dorrissa's list were dead?"

"Ah...Yes Sir. Howard, Meg, Ryan, George and Dolly, perhaps one or two others, but my point is, if that were the case, she'd be in the dead file office. We cannot find a file on her period."

"Maybe she never really existed then," said Sloan, quite exasperated from lack of sleep.

"But Sir, her cell samples," continued the crew chief.

"I'm kidding," replied Sloan effusively, as he spread his arms out knocking over a full cup of coffee in the process and watched as it poured upon the ground. "Go back to the command center and look again. It has to be somewhere. Recheck both the living and the dead files."

Unbeknownst to Sloan, Steven, using his security clearance, had secretly obtained Shelly's personal file years earlier. Right after she was attacked. He made sure that something like that would never happen to her again and he took it back north with him and burned it. Almost every trace of her existence was wiped out, other than the fact that at one time in her life she had produced two very healthy cell samples before being sterilized. Although the Eastern Cell Repository would have written records of Shelly's cell sample transfers, they would have no statistic/picture file.

"And while you're at it," yelled Sloan, as the crew chief was leaving, "have them pull the personal file on Dr. William Foxing."

Sloan continued questioning the suspects. He smiled at the fact that they were all older than him. No one as young as him had ever possessed the power that he now did, the power over life and death. Sloan enjoyed having that power, immensely. None of his suspect Crehus knew Dr. Foxing. None of them had ever been his patients. Or so they said. All of a sudden it was as if a light bulb went on inside Sloan's head. He ordered a squad of his men back to the doctor's office to check his patient files. Morty had come back from taking Gail home and he sent him with them. He did not need Gail anymore for the time being. He smiled at the thought of possibly being able to use her again in the future. It was getting near sunup when Morty called.

"I got a surprise for you boss," said Morty.

"I'm tired of surprises. What is it?"

"Jack and Dorrissa are both patients of the doctor. In fact, Jack was just here this past week."

"Is that so?" said Sloan, squinting while nodding his head up and down. "Bring me their files."

Sloan poured himself another coffee, sat down, and ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn't remember when he had a longer day. He thought, and thought, and thought some more. So the doctor knew Dorrissa and Dorrissa knew the doctor. The doctor could have removed the Dad Chips from everyone...Quite possibly...Somehow, someway. Seems to me I remember some talk about a dead controller found near an old lead lined storage facility for radioactive waste. Quite a few years back. "Well Bitch," Sloan mumbled to himself, "you've been planning this a very long time haven't you? Sorry to be the one to spoil your party," he smiled to himself. "Real sorry."

"Hey Richard," Sloan yelled. "Get me the Eastern Cell Repository on the line. And after that, I want you to get me a firm date on the death of a controller that was found up around Sudbury a few years back. It was ruled suspicious."

"Hello. Let me speak to Michael, the manager?" demanded Sloan.

"What do you mean he went home?

"Who the hell am I talking to?

"Rachel?

"You get his ass back down there in a hurry, or else.

"Is Trent still there?

"Put him on!

"Trent? How's the testing coming?" enquired Sloan.

"I've tested all the remaining cells from the time Dorrissa first visited here and submitted names until almost a full month later, with no irregularities to be found," said Trent.

"Good lad. You must be tired. But we're not done yet. Put that bitch back on the line."

"Yes Sir?" said Rachel.

"Did you call Michael?"

"Yes Sir. I woke him up. He certainly wasn't happy about it but he's on his way here."

"I couldn't give a flying fuck whether or not that asshole's disposition is a happy one. Understand?"

"Yes Sir."

"I want you to go look up the name William Foxing. He's a natural born human as opposed to a Crehu. He is also an old man, a doctor. I want to know if he deposited cell samples years ago. I want you to find out if there are records of any such samples. And if so, what became of them. Think you can handle that?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good. As soon as you find out tell my associate there. I expect to hear back from him within the hour. Now put him back on the phone!"

"It's Trent, what's up?"

"I've got a hunch Trent. There is a doctor involved in this mess. It's Jack and Dorrissa's family doctor. I think Dorrissa, cunning little bitch I'll say that for her, propositioned the doctor for his help by offering to create children that would be directly related to him through his genes. She propositioned him to such an extent that he helped them to remove their Dad Chips enabling them to escape detection. She played on his emotions. I'll know soon enough, but I'm almost positive I've got this case figured out," said Sloan.

"Now all you've got to do is find them."

"Well. Not everything is a walk in the park is it Trent? You of all people must remember that. Call me back when you hear from the bitch."

While the children slept, the van was loaded with everything that they would need for the dash to the border. The plan was to cross at Sault Ste. Marie. They would be safer going north than the more densely populated, southern part of the country. They would also take two cars as well as the van. One car would lead the way while the other would bring up the rear. Jack and Bruce would be in the lead car. Steven and Shelly would follow behind. Bill and Paul would be in the cab of the van. All others, including the children, would be secluded in the back of the van.

Each car would have a rifle, a shotgun, a telecommunications device and binoculars. The van would have two telecommunication devices, one for the cab and one for inside the box. Paul would also have a shotgun. Timothy would have control over the extra weapons inside the van and Dorrissa would man the walkie-talkie, as Steven liked to call it. Dr. Foxing would be company for Bob. All the while watching him like a hawk. Bob never really seemed very sincere in his acceptance of their escape plans. The rest of the women would watch over the children. Tomorrow would be a Sunday and there would not be a multitude of travelers on the road, especially up north at that time of year. For that reason, not wanting to stand out like a sore thumb, they decided the best time to leave would be at 8:00 a.m.

It was six in the morning when Sloan got the call he had been waiting for.

"Hello, Sloan?"

"That's me."

"Apparently William Foxing provided two samples of sperm that went on in creation to produce two male Crehus. They were given the names Alex 1211 and Matthew 1126. They are both on Dorrissa's list," said Trent.

"Yes, I know. I have them here in custody."

"On William Foxing's records it shows the names of his progeny but if you look at the two crehus records, neither shows the name of the donor," Trent continued.

"Precisely. Dorrissa knew Dr. Foxing and could look up his records. Now the question that remains to be solved is who are the donors for these other three Crehus? I'll get back to you."

Sloan took a break from questioning the double donors and went over the single donor list. It was while perusing this list, that he received a call from one of his Care teams. They had traced the Crehu Alice 1246D3 (D for domestic) to the home of Susan Edwardianson, a rather elderly lady and a noted Teachmaster of significant importance. Alice was listed as her domestic/companion. The residence was unoccupied. Being quite a large house, it was taking longer than normal to search it and the search was still ongoing.

So far however, the squad had discovered a nest of propaganda in the attic. Evidence showed that it had been used recently and there were materials subversive enough that they believed the residents to be part of a Family Survival Group. Susan Edwardianson, quite possibly, could even be the ringleader. There was one more thing. The best for the last said the Care Force leader. The lone car in the driveway was an Americar. It just so happened that the keys found in the dead Crehu Ryan's pocket were a match.

"You're shittin' me," Sloan replied.

Sloan congratulated them all on a job well done and requested them to box all incriminating evidence and transfer it to a containment unit at head office. He then phoned Trent.

"I want you to have Susan Edwardianson's records pulled and get the same information for me as you did on Dr. William Foxing.

In less than half an hour Sloan got his reply. Susan's progeny was a male Jason 1137 and a female Sophia 196.

"Richard. Do we have a Sophia 196 in custody?

"Let me see. Ah.....Yes Sir, in holding cell D."

"Hmm, that's a nice bonus," said Sloan. Bring her up to see me."

I can't wait to find out where Philip and Rodney fit in, Sloan thought.

It was a little after eight when Sloan walked briskly into the legislature looking somewhat disheveled, a bit worse for wear. It didn't matter. Running on adrenalin he was beaming from ear to ear. Not only had he solved the mystery, he had worked out a plan. The rest of the cabinet ministers would be all ears.

Dorrissa's convoy left precisely at 8:00 a.m. The exact same time the cabinet was convening. Before they left though, Steven managed to find another old phone number and had made a call. One last call to a man that he trusted. To a man that he considered a friend. A man he hoped would help them. Steven had actually woken him up at 6:00 a.m.

"Livingstone. It's Steven Laurence. I'm sorry to wake you but it's extremely urgent."

"Steven! It's been a long time. What can I do for you?"

Steven went on to describe everything that had happened...A short version of everything. He told Livingstone that they would be making their way to Sault Ste. Marie with the children and aimed to cross the border and ask for asylum. Livingstone Richwaters had been the United States Secretary of the Environment when Steven had first met him. He was now the Attorney General of the United States and a very important man indeed. He didn't only have friends in high places, he was high places.

"You know Steven. I sympathize with you. I really do. God, you don't have to tell me about the country you live in. I know all about it. But in my position, I'm the last one that should be involved in international incidents. Not that our country is afraid by any means. It's just that involvement such as this would not play well on the world stage."

"I understand," said Steven. Then he thought for a moment before continuing.

"Have you ever been outside on a beautiful sunny day? Enjoying it to the fullest? Then storm clouds appear on the horizon to obscure that sunny day?" asked Steven.

"Well yes. I suppose we all have," said Livingstone.

"The imagination, the hope, the promise of greatness that these children represent; much like your constitution allows for the youth of America, they are like that sunny day. The Peoples Government here represents the storm clouds. The difference being, that once these children get a bit older, the rules and regimentation, fear and propaganda, lies and deceit, that those storm clouds bring shall remain over their heads for the rest of their lives. No more sunny days. Their memories of childhood, their hope of accomplishment, will be lost to them forever."

Steven waited for Livingstone to say something after he finished his oral dissertation. After what seemed a long interval, but really was only a minute or so, Livingstone finally spoke.

"You get those kids to Sault Ste. Marie and I'll make sure they get across to our side. There will be no damn Dad Chip and Rod shot government administration for them. What is your estimated arrival time?"

"One, possibly two p.m."

"I'll be there to personally greet you Steven. What you are doing is a very brave thing and I admire you very much. Hell. I've always admired you. Men of your caliber are too few and too far between...Especially in your country."

"Well you'll get to meet some more of them God willing, hopefully this afternoon. And not just men might I add. There are some very courageous women also. There is one woman in particular I am thinking of. Her name is Dorrissa and this is all her doing. I'm just a spoke in the wheel," said Steven.

"Then it must be a hell of a wheel. I look forward to seeing you later today. Let me give you my twenty-four hour hotline number. Thank goodness I still reside at the same residence and that I happened to be home. Don't hesitate to call me if you hit a snag. I'll wait to hear from you either way Steven," said Livingston.

"You're a good friend Livingstone. Thank you and God bless."

"God bless you, my friend," replied Livingstone.

Sloan advanced into the legislature not so much with an aura of cockiness but rather one that resembled self-assurance.

"Gentlemen forgive me. I seem to be a bit late. I must apologize for my appearance. I have not had any sleep in over forty-eight hours. But I mustn't digress. I'm sure the Prime Minister has filled you in on the events of the past few days. I'm here to bring you all up to date. On Friday, as you are aware, a busload of young Crehus, not yet seeing the start of their fifth year, disappeared from our midst. They have been spirited away by a Family Survival Group. A scurrilous band of Crehus I might add who have found a way to remove their Dad Chips without our knowledge."

"But how could this have happened?" said Minister Turnmore.

"How long ago do you think the removal of their Dad Chips took place?" asked Carter.

"Impossible!" said Mr.Evanscan.

"Gentleman please," replied Prime Minister Billarts. "Let the Honorable Minister finish. Please go ahead Sloan."

"There are two Crehus very high up in this Family Survival Group. I'm sure you are all familiar with one of them," said Sloan. "We're talking about Jack 1145A12 and his partner Dorrissa 172A12."

"Jack from the Rank Institute?" Mr. Robbuster wondered out loud.

"I knew that Crehu was no good right from the start!" said Mr. Gadwinner.

"As I was saying," continued Sloan, "I believe this whole plot was devised and implemented by Jack's partner Dorrissa more than five years ago. Some of the cells that she used to create the children in her birthing lab were her and Jack's own reproductive samples. Other's belonged to the Crehus in her Family Survival Group. This group doesn't only consist of Crehus I might add. One Susan Edwardianson, an elderly and highly respected teachmaster that had partnered into great wealth is part of it. Her residence was a nest of subversive and hostile goings on. A prominent doctor by the name of William Foxing is also involved. His skill as a surgeon no doubt, was instrumental in the removal of their Dad Chips. I also believe that the dead controller found near Sudbury five years ago also figured in this somehow. The element of a similar time in all these events seems to be intertwined."

Sloan went on to finish in detail all the findings that had arisen and offered his interpretation of them. When he was finished the Prime Minister asked, "What, in your opinion, do you think we should do Minister Sloan?"

Sloan smiled with the whole irony of the situation. Could he ever feel more powerful, more like the top dog, he thought?

"I propose that we send out, with no further delay, the names and pictures of all the fugitives at large. Controllers should be told to capture them alive if possible, terminate them if not. The refinements we have made in our 'Northern Accommodations' would indeed be a fitting end to their smug audacity. Any citizen's help in bringing these heinous criminals to justice should be rewarded with rank, monetary and vacation increases," said Sloan.

"What do we do with the children they created from their own cells when we catch them? Do we allow them to survive considering that is what this Survival Group would welcome?" asked Peter Robbuster.

"That can be determined after the fact," replied Mr. Berry Gadwinner, the Justice Minister.

"That's not my whole plan," stated Sloan. "I would like to mention that we have in custody additional perpetrators in this crime. Six Crehus who are known by the names and numbers of Jason 1137, Sophia 196, Philip 1158, Rodney 183, Alex 1211, and Mathew 1126, are also involved. Additionally I'd like to say that these six Crehus shall be put to death at precisely 6:00 a.m. tomorrow morning if all involved in this despicable crime do not give themselves up by then and return the kidnapped child Crehus to government custody."

"But I thought you said it was your positive opinion that those six Crehus were uninvolved in this crime?" stated Minister Jamling.

"That's correct," replied Sloan.

"Then you're just bluffing. Hoping that will bring them out of hiding," Mr. Jamling concluded.

"On the contrary," replied Sloan, "I firmly believe that we have to go through with their execution if no results are forthcoming. We cannot begin to look weak to our citizens. This administration must show that we possess the courage of our convictions."

"Possess?" replied Mr. Jamling, in awe of Sloan's unconscionable attitude.

"Precisely," said Sloan, in defiance.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," reasoned Mr. Billarts. "I believe Minister Sloan has the right approach to this problem. This very grave problem I might add. I propose, in fact, that we do exactly as he asks. If you give me the files of all the people we are after I shall have them broadcast on the Crime Channel at once. On all channels, in fact, along with the captive Crehus to be sentenced for execution," the Prime Minister added.

"Yes Sir. I have them all here with me," said Sloan, "all except for one."

"Except for one?" questioned the Prime Minister.

"Yes. The file for the Crehu Shelly 1346T20 could not be found. Both of her cell samples had been obtained and used by Dorrissa. So we do not know who she is. We have no picture, only a name."

For a moment, and only a moment, Leonard Jamling thought of his old friend Steven. Steven had a partner named Shelly. He couldn't remember her number, or year of birth, but there must be lots of Crehus called Shelly he reasoned. The idea of Steven being involved was preposterous. Leonard shrugged off the thought as mere fantasy.

"I shall put out these names and faces at once," replied the Prime Minister. "Continue to have your men search for that missing file and if I may speak for this cabinet, I commend you on your prowess Minister."

It was not quite ten o'clock when the control car passed by Steven and Shelly's vehicle and went in between them and the van. After following it a short distance the controller signaled the van to pull over. Bill and Paul had seen it go in behind them earlier and had contacted Jack at the time. Steven now contacted Jack in the lead car, Paul inside the cab, and Dorrissa in the back so she would make sure the children were kept quiet in case their vehicle was stopped. And stopped it was.

Fortunately for them there was only one controller in the car. They were just south of the Highway #522 turnoff which leads through a number of old ghost towns on the way east, back to the country's main Highway #11.

The controller pulled over, got out of his car, and walked over to the driver's door of the van. Steven had slowed down, pulled over, and gotten out of his vehicle from a distance without the controller noticing. While the controller was rapping on the driver's door of the van, Steven came walking up from behind.

"May I be of assistance?" Steven asked, as he approached the van.

Startled, the controller turned and pulled his weapon.

"Hold it right there!" he ordered Steven.

"Is there a problem Sir?" asked Bill, as he rolled down his window.

"What are you carrying in your vehicle?" the controller demanded to know.

"I have the furniture and household effects of Mr. Steven Laurence, the ex-External Prime Minister of Canada. That...um...Would be the gentleman you are pointing your weapon at, eh," said Bill.

"What?" replied the controller, looking a shade quizzical.

"Hello Tom," said Steven, reading the controller's name tag. "I'm Steven Laurence and I've hired this man to move my things to an estate I've rented for the summertime on the western shores of Lake Nippissing. It's quite a beautiful spot and I'm anxious to get everything unloaded and set up while the ground is still hard, before the spring thaw sets in."

"Hey, I recognize you," said the controller, as if witnessing an epiphany. "I never met a Prime Minister or even an ex-Prime Minister before for that matter," said the controller, putting away his weapon and shaking Steven's hand.

"I'm sorry about this," the controller went on. "Just a little while ago we received a bulletin relating to a kidnapping of Crehu infants by a Family Survival Group. Their whereabouts are unknown and they're presumed to be holed up somewhere. It's believed by the government that they will eventually try and make for the border. It would only be a matter of time before they were caught if they attempted to stay here in hiding. All border points have been put on high alert."

Jack and Bruce, who had pulled off to the side a few miles ahead, were listening to the conversation. Paul, crouching down even more when he heard they were being pursued, had kept his portable telecommunication device open.

"Extra patrols are out by order of the government and all vehicles that are not government sanctioned, meaning public vehicles, have been ordered to be searched. That is why I stopped the van. It is not a government vehicle."

"So I presume you'd like my driver to open the rear of the van so that you could check my contents for missing Crehu children?" said Steven, smiling, tongue in cheek.

"Oh no Sir," said the controller. "I'm sure any vehicle under your influence would be the same as government sanctioned. There is no need of a search. Besides," said the controller, "I have pictures of all the suspects on my monitor and (looking at the driver) he is not among them."

"That is most interesting," replied Steven. "Do you think I could get a look at these suspects before we head out, just in case I see anyone suspicious in my travels?"

"Why certainly Mr. Laurence, ah....Prime Minister, follow me."

"Just wait here a minute Bill. This won't take long."

Steven walked back to the controller's car and climbed into the front passenger's seat.

"This is nice Tom. I haven't been inside one of these newer models before."

"Ya, they're a peach. More leg room and an increased pickup modification. I can outrun anybody on the road."

Shortly after posting the suspects particulars over the media, including the pending execution of the sentenced captives, Sloan received a call from one of his Care investigative teams. A startling new development had occurred. The controller that had pulled Paul and the others over on Friday night had seen and recognized their pictures. This was of major significance since it narrowed their search area considerably. Sloan got on the phone to the Prime Minister. All cabinet members, other than him, had remained sequestered in the Great Hall by order of Mr. Billarts. The various other ministers were still able to run their departments and keep tabs on all events as they occurred.

When informed that these Crehus had been stopped just outside of Foot's Bay, it gave Leonard Jamling considerable pause for reflection. That is where Steven and his partner Shelly live. His partner Shelly, a Crehu with the same first name as the missing Crehu, he realized. He had no other choice than to mention this, sure to be coincidence, to the Prime Minister.

"Excuse me John," said Leonard. "Steven Laurence lives up in Foot's Bay."

"Yes, what of it?" acknowledged Mr. Billarts, wondering what Leonard was driving at.

"He is partnered with a Crehu named Shelly. Same name as the missing Crehu, but I can't for the life of me recall what her number was."

"Damn you Leonard. Why didn't you bring that up this morning?" demanded Mr. Billarts.

"Well Sir. I never gave it much credence. They got together shortly after his long time partner Ruth died," said Mr. Jamling. "I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

"Well that was...What...Three, four years ago?" asked the Prime Minister.

"About that," said Leonard.

"Get me his phone number right away!" demanded the Prime Minister.

When Mr. Billarts was unable to reach Steven Laurence, he ordered two control cars to check out his residence. The call back confirmed their worst fears. It was indeed no coincidence. There was positive incriminating evidence that children had been there. It was now a certainty that Steven Laurence, retired External Prime Minister of Canada, was involved in this horrendous incident.

Whatever the case, the country must not learn of Mr. Laurence's involvement stated Mr. Billarts. It was determined by unanimous consent that Steven's culpability would be extremely detrimental to the government's reputation if word got out. Only control officers and Care enforcement workers would be notified of his involvement and everyone would be ordered to keep it confidential at all costs.

Steven sat in the car viewing the renegade suspects alongside Tom the controller. His stomach turned as he recognized face after face...Jack, Dorrissa, Bruce, Becka. There was no picture of Shelly, thank God he thought, even though they had her name. When the captive Crehus were mentioned along with their pictures, and it was stated that they would be executed at six o'clock tomorrow morning as co-conspirators, Steven felt hopeless to do anything. He knew that he should inform Dr. Foxing and Susan of this latest happening but was afraid of the reaction it could bring. He decided to talk it over with Jack and Bruce before coming to any decision. As he was about to leave the controller's car a news flash bulletin came on.

"All controllers and government Care workers be on the lookout for Steven Laurence, who was at one time our External Prime Minister. He is definitely believed to be in the company, quite willingly, of the Family Survival Group that has absconded with the infant Crehus. His partner Shelly 1346A20 has been confirmed to be a member of that group. Care and caution should be exercised for his live capture. If that is not possible he should be terminated at all cost. The general public is not, I repeat, not to be informed of this bulletin."

Tom, turning to Steven, reached for his weapon. A vicious struggle ensued whereupon Shelly, seeing it take place, screamed into the walkie-talkie alerting Paul and Bill to the fight in progress in the front seat. They both jumped out and raced back to help Steven. Between the three of them they were able to immobilize and knock out the controller. Hurriedly, they dragged Tom to the back of the vehicle, disarmed him, and locked him in the trunk. Shelly, having left her vehicle, was now at Steven's side. There was not much time.

Taking the walkie-talkie from Shelly's grasp, Steven contacted the rest of the group about what had just transpired. All communication devices were on the same wavelength. Steven explained that the controller could not be left there, otherwise he would be found shortly. His elimination would also bring a fresh batch of trackers on their heels because of the Dad Chip trace.

The only option open to them now was to use the control car as a front he reasoned. It would take the lead position of the group and Steven would drive dressed as the controller. Shelly would drive their car until a secluded drop-off could be found. She would then ride inside the van with the others. Jack and Bruce would move to the back and guard the rear. When Steven opened up the trunk to get the controller's uniform he found he was still out cold. Quickly grabbing the controller's shirt and hat, he cuffed and gagged him. He bound his feet with a belt. They would eventually have to stop at a government refueling station and he didn't want any unfortunate surprises taking place.

Wasting no time, they were soon on the road. Jack and Bruce waited, first for Steven, then the truck, and then for Shelly to pass, before they pulled out. It was now a race against time. As they drove on, Steven realized that he would not have an opportunity after all, to talk to Jack and Bruce in person about the soon approaching executions. In all good conscience, he could not keep the deplorably, ominous news from either Susan or William. While driving up the highway, he talked to them both with the walkie-talkie that Dorrissa had in her possession. The others listened in on the conversation, but it was Susan and the doctor that bore the brunt of disheartening sorrow that was felt.

Things had been going smoothly for the group since Steven took the lead in the control car. Whenever he passed another controller he would wave hello as he drove by. The other controllers, seeing the van right behind him, never gave it a second thought. To them the van was not a threat. Not significant.

Going smoothly that is, until they hit Sudbury, Jack's personal albatross. It was Murphy's Law. If something can go wrong it will. They made the switch from Highway #69 onto Highway #17. Just past the northern perimeter of the city, they stopped at a refueling station off the highway. They had previously ditched Shelly's car at an allocation area parking lot where she joined the others in the back of the van. In a remote corner of the station, as they were ready to continue there flight, the controller's radio came to life.

"Tom 284, come in. I repeat. Tom 284, come in. This is Control Dispatch, come in."

"This is Tom," said Steven. Quickly grasping hold of the situation he swiftly turned off his walkie-talkie so no accidental communication from the group would alert the dispatcher and blow their cover.

"Turn on your monitor controller. I can not see you.

"It is on," Steven lied. "I can't see you either. It must not be working."

"Never mind that now. What are you doing man? You are way out of your patrol area."

Steven had to think, and he had to think fast.

"I was on Highway #69 by the #522 cut-off, in my own area, when I was flagged down by a south-bound car. They were returning from a northern holiday excursion when they had seen the pictures of the suspects wanted in connection with the infant Crehu kidnapping on the media screen. They were sure they recognized them as a group that they happened upon earlier in the day while checking out of their resort. I am following them back to the area as we speak. I don't think I am too far away right now."

"Well daft man," said the person in dispatch, "you should have radioed it in at once for backup. You know the rules."

"But I wanted to be sure this isn't just a wild goose chase. It would be stupid to remove manpower and vehicles from the general manhunt unless I was sure that these are the suspects."

"That is not your decision to make controller. Just wait. Give me a minute. I'm patching you through to Care operations. Excuse me. Hello. I have a controller on the line who says he has a lead on the suspects' whereabouts in the infant Crehu kidnapping."

"Put him on. Hey Boss. I think you might want to take this call," said the man from Care operations.

"Hello. This is Sloan, Minister of Care."

"Yes Sir. This is Control Dispatch. I have a controller on the line with information on the infant snatchers."

"Put him on," said Sloan.

"Hello Tom. I have the Minister of Care on the line. He wants to talk to you."

Steven gulped. "Hello. This is Tom 284C29."

"This is Sloan here, Minister of Care. What is you location."

"I'm about thirty miles north west of Sudbury on Highway #17."

Steven knew that the government G.P.S showed exactly where he was. The control car had become an ever tightening noose around their neck.

"Why can't I see you controller?" asked Sloan.

"My monitor is on Sir but is not functioning for some reason."

"What is your destination!" demanded Sloan, with forceful disposition.

"I'm following an informant's vehicle as we speak...To the suspects'...Rather to the alleged suspects' location," Steven replied.

Steven was thankful the controller was locked in the trunk. The vehicle G.P.S along with the controller's personal Dad Chip would show the same location, allowing his story to sound on the level.

"Alleged or not, is none of your damn business controller," shouted Sloan. "That is for us to determine. We know for certain that they are in that area. They must be apprehended at any cost. I will have all available men and vehicles dispatched from the Sudbury detachment to your location immediately. I myself will take a full company of men from my department and fly to Sudbury. We will transfer to control choppers and converge on your location. On your arrival, you are not to move in. I repeat, do not move in. You will remain outside of the suspects' view. When the other controllers arrive you are to set up an outside perimeter and wait for my arrival. Don't take any action unless required.

"Stay close to your radio at all times so that communication remains ongoing. If you screw up, and they become spooked and make a run for it, your fucking head will roll. Do you understand controller?" asked Sloan, in a sardonic voice.

"Yes Sir. Completely Sir," said Steven.

"Radio in at once upon your arrival," Sloan ordered.

"Yes Sir," Steven placated.

"I'll talk to you later," said Sloan, ending the conversation.

All this time everyone wondered why Steven had been taking so long to start up and get back onto the on-ramp for highway access. Jack had gotten out of his vehicle and approached Steven's. Upon seeing Jack standing by his driver's door, Steven got out of the car.

"We've got to talk," said Steven grabbing Jack by his arm and walking back towards the van.

"What's going on, eh?" Bill asked through his open window, as Jack and Steven walked by.

"Sit tight," Steven ordered, as he walked by. "We'll leave in a few minutes."

"Anything wrong?" yelled Paul.

"No. Just stay there," replied Jack.

Steven signaled for Bruce to come out of his vehicle and join them as he banged on the rear door of the van for admittance. All three scurried inside. Steven told everyone what had just gone down. A few moments earlier, while walking back to the van, he came to the realization of what he had to do.

The control car had become a liability. If they left it and tried to escape on their own they would be caught in no time. Their only chance was to use the controller's car as a decoy, leading Sloan and his men in the opposite direction to where they were going. Steven knew the whole area would be swarming with controllers very shortly. Trying to make the border at Sault Ste. Marie was now out of the question.

Their only hope, Steven reasoned, as he took out his map, was for them to take the Highway #6 cut-off south at Espanola and cross over to Manitoulin Island. Years ago it contained a large Indian reserve. To some extent, that is what it had remained. Thinly populated, their best chance was to make their way to the extreme westerly portion of the island and try to find a boat large enough to accommodate them in crossing over to the American side.

Although in choosing this route they would be confronted with a huge stumbling block. There was a control detachment stationed at Little Current, the entrance to the island. The basic purpose for it being there was to keep the island residents on the island. The government did not want the non-white natives in the general population. Somehow, they would need to slip past this control post. Looking at the map for a good diversionary route that the control car could follow, Jack pointed out a cut off due west that could be taken north to Highway #144 and followed towards Timmins. It was in the opposite direction from where their van would be going.

"That is a suicide mission. We can't ask anyone to do that," said Dorrissa.

"That will be my job," said Steven. "I decided that before this conversation even took place. It will be my legacy to the children."

"No way," said Jack. "We have the spare car. I will follow you part way. Then we'll ditch the control car and backtrack."

"Backtrack?" questioned Steven. "Come on Jack, with all those control cars in hot pursuit? And Sloan's helicopters? What have you been smoking? We'll never make it," said Steven. "The controller's car has to be driven as fast and as far away from here as possible. There is no stopping. Every minute of diversionary pursuit buys us an extra minute of safe passage. Eventually I'll be caught. It's inevitable."

"How about if we cut off here?" asked Jack, pointing to the map. "Take a series of back roads. Not to Manitoulin mind you. We wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize this mission. But perhaps just the two of us could make it across a different part of the border. It would just take a bit longer."

"No Jack," said Dorrissa. "If you're going, I'm going with you. Whatever happens, we stay together."

Shelly was standing, watching, tears rolling down her cheeks. How could she let Steven go after it took her a lifetime to find him?

"Neither of you are going," said Steven. "You're driving the last vehicle that we have and we need you to stay with the van to help in its defense. To stay with it at all cost. They have helicopters Jack. It's a certainty that I'll be caught, but it is a sacrifice that I am prepared to make."

"You know," said Susan, speaking for the first time. "I was listening when that controller said how fast his car can go. I'm a pretty good driver. I think I should take the car."

"No way, I won't hear of it," said Steven.

"Nonsense, I'm an old lady. I've lived my life to the fullest. I'm well and ready to meet my maker. I welcome it. You have a partner Steven. You all have partners. You all have children and grandchildren to bring up. Make an old woman's wish come true. You go on and let me do this deed. Give me this one last request. Anyway, I'm not too happy with what is about to happen to my offspring, my children. Though I never got the chance to meet them in this lifetime, I'm not afraid to meet them in the next."

"I feel the same way," said Dr. Foxing, making his presence known for the first time also.

"I know you do," replied Susan. "But there is positively no reason to give our enemies the added satisfaction of an additional captive. You, don't forget, are a doctor. The others may need you. I can manage quite well on my own and there is no use trying to talk me out of it. You all know what I'm like when I make my mind up about something."

"And you know what I'm like," replied Alice. "We've traveled way too many roads together, far and wide, for it to end like this. If this is going to be your last road, it shall be my last road too. If you go, we go together. That's all there is to it and I won't take no for an answer. After all, in a way," said Alice, with a forlorn look and a loving smile, "you are my partner."

"Give us a minute please," said Susan, taking Alice aside to talk to her privately. "You must know Dear, that given a worst case scenario, I do not expect to come out of this any better than Ryan did. In sacrificing himself for us all, the way he did, he showed bravery that the ordinary individual could never exemplify. And what about Allison? You have a beautiful young daughter to look after and watch grow up."

"And you have grandchildren that you won't get to see grow up either. I'm sure Allison is a lovely child but I don't know her like I know you. While the others can, and will, look after her just fine if I'm not there to do so, I could not go on living with the knowledge that I was not with you if or when the end came. Especially this way. Besides, you know I'm a better driver," smiled Alice.

Going back to where the others had been waiting, Susan said, "It's settled. Alice and I will drive the controller's car as fast and as far away in the opposite direction from you as possible."

"But those controllers," whimpered Bob, sitting on pins and needles inside the van, "they'll torture those old ladies and then they'll end up telling them our whereabouts for sure. And even if they don't, that controller locked up in the trunk. He saw our van. It says B&B MOVERS in great big block letters right on the side panel. Once they know that they will fix a position on me and Bill and we'll all be caught."

"You leave that to me," said Susan. "He won't be talking to anyone."

"What are you going to do?" asked Becka.

"Whatever I have to," answered Susan.

"Ladies, I just can't..."

"Shut," said Susan, covering Steven's mouth with her hand. "Clean the wax out your ears Mr. Laurence. I told you it's all settled. If you make us dawdle here much longer we will all be caught. And this will all have been for nothing."

"Susan's right," said Jack. "We have to leave. Bruce, go bring the car up. We will take the lead in front of the van. Bless you Susan, and you too Alice. God be with you both."

"He always is," Susan replied.

"Bob. I'd like you to drive the car if you don't mind. Bruce and I will sit in the back with a couple of rifles just in case they are needed," said Jack.

"Being pretty recognizable, the best place for you Dad is right here in the back of the van with everyone else," said Jack grinning.

"Just in case, can we have one of those shotguns?" asked Susan.

Jack picked up a shotgun and handed it to her. "It's fully loaded. Do you know how it works?"

Susan smiled. "A good Teachmistress knows everything young man!"

Before Susan departed she pressed her family bible into Dorrissa's hands and asked for her to be sure her grandchildren were taught the scriptures from it. With solemn farewells all around, everyone got in their vehicles and drove off. It was just past noon when Susan and Alice veered north while the rest of them headed for Highway #6. Once on the island, Steven would have to contact Livingstone Richwaters to update him on the change of plans. They could not be certain of their freedom by a long shot, but this seemed their only hope.

It took almost two hours to get to Little Current. The majority of controllers had already left the station in order to patrol the mainland. They were more than likely involved in the pursuit of Susan and Alice. Their absence was most beneficial. A sign posted on the road leading onto the island ordered all vehicles to pull over to the right and stop for inspection. Bill and Bob did just as the sign requested. Momentarily a controller left the building and approached the van which Jack had wisely allowed ahead of him.

"Good afternoon controller. How are you on this fine day, eh?" asked Bill from inside his cab while Paul crouched down to avoid a recognized confrontation.

"What's your business here?" asked the controller.

"I've got a load of supplies for the island, eh. The government transport that normally does the deliveries broke down. My van and I were lucky enough to be subcontracted to finish the job. Ah...Sure is quiet today, eh," added Bill.

"There's just me and another fella here. Everyone else is on the mainland hunting for a Survival Group that kidnapped a couple dozen Crehu kids. Crazy people huh? Don't tell me you haven't heard about it?" said the controller, eyeing Bill suspiciously.

"Are you kidding? I must have been stopped six or seven different times already this morning and been checked out. Does this look like a busload of kids to you?" Bill joked, hoping the ruse would work.

While Bill was stalling the controller, Jack and Bruce slipped quietly out the back of the vehicle they were in and snuck up behind and underneath the truck, just in case.

"The kids aren't in the bus anymore. It was returned later without them. And maybe you have and maybe you haven't been searched this morning. It don't matter to me none 'cause you're gonna be searched again. Step outta the van and let's open 'er up."

"Sure thing, eh," said Bill.

Dorrissa was listening to the entire conversation via Paul's walkie-talkie, just as Jack and Bruce had been doing. Jack had a hunch they would be needed and he was right. On his command, Bruce reached out from underneath the van, grabbed the left leg of the guard and pulled hard. Jack grabbed the right one. With both legs pulled out from under him the guard came crashing down backwards, hit his head on the pavement, and was out cold. Bill and Paul jumped out of the van to give them a hand. The four men carried the controller over by the entrance to the building. With the others waiting behind the door to jump the remaining controller, Bill opened it up and shouted, "Excuse me, eh? I was talking to the controller here and he just dead-away fainted on me. What should I do?"

"What? Where is he?" asked the lone controller, getting up from behind his desk and quickly heading for the door.

"Right here, eh," pointed Bill, towards the unconscious controller.

Just before reaching the door the controller saw the other men's shadows cast on the ground outside. Seeing him remove his weapon from his holster, Bill yelled, "He's got the drop on us boys."

Bill lunged for the controller's arm in an effort to knock the gun from his hand while the other three rushed round to help. In the short struggle that took place, before they were able to subdue and unarm the controller, his weapon fired three times. Jack was hit in the side. Paul lay dead upon the ground.

Steven and Tim, upon hearing the shots, grabbed a rifle each and flung open the rear door of the moving van. They could see the carnage from where they stood. Bruce yelled, "Quick, get the doctor over here. Jack and Paul have been shot."

Steven, Tim and Dr. Foxing all rushed over to where their wounded comrades lay. Dorrissa and Hope, hearing Bruce's yell, had also ran alongside of them. Both women were kneeling by their men crying openly. When she saw that Paul was indeed dead, Hope began to wail loudly and incessantly. Jack assured Dorrissa that he would be fine and sent her to comfort Hope.

While all was utter chaos for these few minutes, Bob took full advantage of this newfound opportunity. He put the car in gear, spun it around and bolted back to the mainland. Seeing him do this, Bill yelled out, "Bob! Bob you prick come back. Come back you coward!"

Bill could go nowhere. It was he and Bruce who had the controller pinned to the ground. Lucky for Jack, the bullet from the controller's gun had entered and exited his side leaving a clean wound. Having the doctor right on site was an additional blessing. Patching up Jack fairly quickly, the loss of blood, while at first seemed excessive, had been stemmed in good order.

"You'll live young man. And you'll have a constant memento to show for it," said Dr. Foxing.

"Oh yea?" said Jack. "What memento?"

"That will be the scar," said the doctor. "You can show it to your children when they are older."

"Shit," said Bill. "That Bob really pisses me off, eh."

"Not everyone can conquer fear under pressure," said Bruce. "Incidentally Bill, you were awesome!"

"Thanks Bruce," Bill smiled.

"Anyway he's gone now," said Steven. No telling what he'll do. Let's get these controllers inside and locked up in their holding cell. We had better move Paul's body inside also." Dorrissa and Wendy had already taken Hope back to the van. There was no time to spare. "I feel bad for Hope. I didn't know Paul for very long but the impression he left on me was large and indelible. We must be there for her in this time of need," said Steven.

The men did what needed to be done and got back to the truck. Dr. Foxing, arguing with Jack about climbing into the back, almost forgot to retrieve his medical bag. Tim had gotten it for him. Dorrissa sat with Hope continuing to comfort her. Jack refused to get into the back of the truck. Even with the doctor's urging. When have you ever know me to follow doctor's orders he had said with a smile. Jack climbed into the front with Bill and Bruce. He sat between them.

"That bastard pisses me off, eh," said Bill, about Bob again, as he pulled out and proceeded to cross over to the island.

"Alice," said Susan, looking over and smiling at her. "Of all the people I have known in my lifetime, and I have known many I assure you," Susan laughed, "you, without a doubt, have been my closest friend. And I love you for that."

Alice happened to be driving. Well, not exactly happened to be. She was. She always maintained that she was the better driver of the two and Susan had found no reason to argue the point, especially at this perilous time. But when Susan said that, Alice almost lost control and drove off the road. Susan's eyebrows raised in the wonder of it.

"You know Susan," said Alice, after regaining her composure, "I feel the same way about you too."

"I know you do dear. That's why you are here with me now. What do you think is going to happen to us?" Susan asked.

"I don't know," replied Alice.

"You know they are executing my children tomorrow at six o'clock in the morning."

"Yes, I know. I'm so very sorry Susan."

"So what do you think they will do to us Alice?"

"Execute us too I suppose."

"And you're not afraid?" asked Susan.

"I never said that. Of course I'm afraid. But I was afraid before I came on this trip. But somehow being with you makes me less afraid," said Alice.

What a beautiful thing for one person to tell another, thought Susan.

"Do you think they really torture people like they say they do?" asked Alice.

"I'm not sure. It wouldn't surprise me though."

"I don't think I could bear to be tortured Susan. I'm afraid I might say something that would help them discover where the children are."

"So am I Alice, so am I. But I really am thinking, even if they catch us alive, we are not long for this world. The government will make sure of that. Are you afraid of dying Alice?"

"Not with you Susan. I would be by myself but not with you. Dying in this world means we just move faster onto the next, right? To be with God, right?" questioned Alice.

"That's correct. To be with God and all the people you loved that passed on before you. Howard and Meg will be there...Ryan...My parents and grandparents...My beloved Samuel...And soon, my children. Sooner than later," Susan said as tiny tears dampened her cheeks.

"And I will be with you also," said Alice, reaching over and gently squeezing Susan's hand. "And you can introduce me to everyone I don't know. After all, Heaven must truly be the ultimate Family Support Group."

Susan and Alice had driven more than one hundred miles when they saw in the distance, from their rearview mirror, a cloud of dust and twirling lights closing in on them.

"This is it then," Susan said to Alice. "Better pull over here."

Alice pulled over and Susan popped the trunk.

"Let us get out. We have a prisoner to deal with," Susan added.

Susan grabbed the shotgun and they walked to the rear. While she pointed it at the controller she asked Alice to remove the gag from his mouth.

"Are you comfortable?" Susan asked the controller.

"Untie me right now if you know what's fucking good for you," he replied.

"Sorry. I can't do that. You'll have to stay tied up until my friends have all escaped."

"Fat chance...Hear those sirens? I'll be rescued any minute. If they haven't caught your Family Survival Group yet I know exactly where they are. In a B&B MOVERS van. Too bad lady, it's over for all of you," the controller laughed.

Susan winced. "Are you religious?" she asked him.

"Go to Hell you dried up old hag."

Looking over at Alice, Susan said, "Ah, he must be religious if he believes in Hell. Close your eyes Alice."

Alice closed her eyes...Tight.

"Because that's where I'm sending you. God forgive me," said Susan, as she pulled the trigger.

It was all over in a second. Alice was stunned. Not so much Susan. While it was true that neither had ever seen a person die a violent death before, it had to be done to protect the children. That is why Susan asked for the gun. Jack knew it. She knew it. In the back of her mind Alice must have known it also. The control cars screeched to a halt.

"They have a gun?" said one of the controllers in bewilderment as he took cover behind his car door.

"Put your weapon down," said the voice over the loudspeaker. "I repeat, put your weapon down."

"I'm scared," said Alice crying. "What's going to happen to us? I'm not strong. I don't know what I'll say? Oh Susan, help me please," pleaded Alice.

"I repeat, for the last time, put your weapon down."

Susan knew that the gun did not hold many shells. She had watched earlier as Jack loaded it. If she used them up firing at the controllers they would be captured alive for sure. What was one less day of life on this earth compared to one more in Heaven?

"Hush child," said Susan. "Our friend here believed in Hell. I know that you believe in Heaven."

"Yes. I do very much," said Alice.

"I love you Alice and I'll see you there. I'll be right behind you," said Susan, pulling the trigger.

"Oh My Government," said a controller. "She just shot her."

"Quick, get her," screamed the one in charge.

"Dear God," prayed Susan. "Please give me the courage of Ryan along with your Heavenly forgiveness for what I must do."

The controllers were too late. Before they could reach her, Susan placed the gun to her breast and pulled the trigger. She knew she would never get to see her children or her grandchildren in this lifetime. Nothing would prevent her children's execution tomorrow morning. But she could be waiting in Heaven to greet them when they arrived.

Sloan was met with the news of the double murder suicide on his arrival at the Sudbury airport. He bristled with rage. It had all been a set up. That bastard Jack and his bitch partner Dorrissa were still at large. But he was closing in. There was no escape. They had to be making their way for the border. He would order his teams to board two choppers and they would make their way up along the coast of Lake Superior while following above Highway #17. It was obvious to Sloan that they were heading for Sault Ste. Marie. He ordered all control cars to turn around and proceed in that direction.

Somehow Steven Laurence must have smuggled weapons in across the border in preparation for their escape. The controllers were told that this Survival Group was armed and dangerous and they were ordered to shoot to kill. All large vehicles that could be used by them for transport, including government vehicles, would be ordered off the road. Anyone disregarding this was to be taken out.

Sloan called Mr. Billarts to inform him of the orders he had given and to keep him abreast of affairs. In the Prime Minister's own words he told Sloan, "Kill them. Kill them all, even the children. Kill the children first, right before their eyes. Let them watch what happens to their precious children."

"Heartless, terribly heartless," mimicked Sloan, in capricious glee.

"More like ruthless," replied the Prime Minister. "Governing is such a nasty business. But then someone has to do it. Let me know when it's over."

"Will do," replied Sloan, signing off.

Bill was making good time on Highway #540, the westerly highway leading away from Highway #6 at Little Current. Steven had been comforting Hope who was still mortified by grief over Paul's demise. There wasn't a soul in the back of that van who was not afraid of what might happen to them, what would happen to them, if caught. Rhonda sat huddled in a corner paralyzed with fear since she heard of Paul's death. Dr. Foxing had tried his best to bring her around, to no avail.

Most of the adults although scared did not show it. They held it in. A brave face needed to be put on for the children. It was bad enough that they had been cooped up inside for most of the day. It was starting to smell of feces and the air was quite stale. The children were getting extremely restless and keeping them entertained was exceedingly more difficult. How much longer would it be was the thought on everyone's mind?

Bob had finished driving up Highway #6 and was now proceeding south on Highway #17. He was beginning to feel as if he would make it. Make it home. That everything had been a bad nightmare and soon he would be home safe. No one would even know where he had been. If they catch Bill, Bill won't talk. He wouldn't rat him out. Bill wasn't like that. Bill was strong. Even if he was pissed because I took off he still wouldn't rat me out, thought Bob. He smiled at the sheer thought of his successful escape.

Just as he was beginning to feel safe, the hopelessness of the situation reared its ugly head and bit him on the ass. A large force of control cars were heading north on the highway coming fast and furious right at him. Bob panicked, lost control of the car, and veered off the highway. On seeing this happen, right before their eyes, one of the control cars pulled out of formation and came to investigate. The controller pulled up in front of Bob's vehicle and walked over to his car. Bob was shaking violently as he watched the controller advance. He knocked on the window.

"What seems to be the problem here?" asked the controller, when Bob lowered his window.

"I'm not sure I..."

And then he saw them...Two rifles that were lying on the floor in the back.

"Hands up, hands up now!" yelled the controller, as he drew his weapon and leveled it at Bob's chest.

"Place your hands on top of your head. Move it!"

Bob put his hands on top of his head, shaking deliriously all the while. The controller yanked the car door open and pulled Bob out and onto the ground.

"Roll over, face down," barked the controller, as he placed his boot firmly on the small of Bob's back.

"What'd I do? What'd I do?" yelled Bob.

"Shut up. Place your hands behind your back. Do it now!"

The controller placed handcuffs on Bob and pulled him to his feet. The controller's partner was now at his side, everything happening so fast.

"Where did you get the guns? Tell me now!"

Bob looked in the vehicle. There in the back, on the floor, were two rifles, one with a scope. They had been left behind by Jack and Bruce when they exited the vehicle to help Bill and Paul. Bob had forgotten all about them. How could this have happened?

"I said tell me now!"

Bob cringed, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Okay. I'll tell you everything."

When he had finished spilling his guts, one of the controllers got on the radio.

"Here. It's for you Sir," said the Care operative, handing the phone to his commander.

"Sloan here."

The controller told Sloan how they had seized Bob. That the Survival Group had managed to evade capture and they were now on Manitoulin Island in search of a boat to take them to freedom. Sloan had landed earlier at Sault Ste. Marie along with his Care Commandos as he liked to call them. He had been lying in wait but this news had taken him by surprise. He marveled at the brilliance of their plan and rubbed his hands in glee that he was soon to end it.

"What shall I do with the prisoner?" asked the controller.

"Kill him!" Sloan replied.

"What?" questioned the unbelieving controller.

"Just kidding," laughed Sloan, smugly. "Hey. Let me talk to him. I'll bet you a beer I can scare him to death."

The controller flicked the radio to speaker where Bob could hear it in the back seat. Sloan began to tell him how he would be executed in the morning along with the other prisoners. He described with glee how he would lose all his bodily functions. How he would gasp for breath. Both controllers listened in awe as they heard Sloan exude immense pleasure in his voice as he explained all the gory details of an execution.

"Phone me back and let me know if my scare worked," Sloan told the controllers, after they had switched the radio back from speaker. He was thoroughly proud of himself. Getting back on the phone, Sloan called the Crehu Monitoring Center.

"Hello, this is Sloan, Minister of Care. Let me talk to the superintendent."

"You're talking to him Sir."

"What's your name?"

"Roger 1208A14."

"Well Roger 1208A14. I want you to take a reading on Bill 256W28 and tell me exactly where he is. Take a reading on Bob 237W29 also. I want him terminated after the reading. Understand?"

"Terminated Sir?" asked Roger.

"Is there an echo in here for fuck sake? You heard me the first time."

"Yes Sir, right away, Sir."

"Get back to me with Bill's location!"

Bill was driving, talking to Jack and Bruce and laughing at Jack's particular sense of humor. They were feeling a bit better as they approached the end of the island.

"I...I feel kind of funny, eh...I...ah, ah," uttered Bill, as he slumped over the wheel.

"My God Bill...Bill, what is it?" screamed Jack.

"Grab the wheel, we're going off the road," shouted Bruce.

"Step on the gas. We're slowing down," yelled Bruce again.

"I can't drive this rig. I don't know the gears," stated Jack.

"Just steer. Keep the speed up and you'll stay in gear," said Bruce, pulling Bill over and out of the way as Jack slipped above him to take his place.

"He's dead," blurted out Bruce. One minute he's fine, the next..." he trailed off. "What happened?"

"They're onto us. The bastards terminated him. I've seen it happen before. They must have caught up with Bob. They made him talk. They know our coordinates now. We have to move fast," said Jack, pushing down on the accelerator.

"Is anything wrong up there?" asked Steven, over the walkie-talkie.

"They know our whereabouts. They got Bill. They terminated him. Jack's driving. As fast as he can. It could get a little bumpy back there. Hang on," replied Bruce.

Sloan got a call back from the controllers telling him that, yes indeed, Bob was dead. The overwhelming fright of knowing what lay in store for him must have been too much for his heart.

Sloan chuckled. "Guess you owe me a beer." Then, straight faced, he added, "Don't worry about him now. Make your way as fast as you can to the island. See if you can catch up to your unit. I've contacted them with the Survival Group's location and they are on their way now. I'm just waiting to hear back with the exact coordinates."

Jack hadn't gone far when he rounded a curve. He had been going too fast to maneuver the truck and the rear end fishtailed, skidding off the road, into the ditch.

"Is everyone alright back there?" asked Bruce. He could hear the children crying on the walkie-talkie.

"A little shaken up but we'll be fine. What happened?" asked Steven.

"Jack lost control," said Bruce.

"Is he okay," asked Dorrissa, understandably worried.

"I'm fine Hon," answered Jack. "Come on Bruce. We have to get everyone out and make a run for it."

Sloan grabbed the phone. "Yes?"

"It's Roger at the Monitoring Center. Bob 237W29 was on Highway #17 just northwest of Sudbury."

"I Bloody well knew that. What about the other one?"

"Bill 256W28 was on Manitoulin Island, almost at the westerly tip of it. Just before a native fishing village called Meldrum Bay."

"What do you mean was?" shouted Sloan.

"They've been terminated. Just as you asked."

"You Bloody Asshole. You Fucking Fool. I only wanted Bob terminated. Not Bill, for fuck sake. Now they know, that we know, where they are. The whole element of surprise has been blown right out of the fucking water. So help me if they get away I'm holding you directly responsible. It will be your ass," said Sloan, slamming down the phone.

"Over here...There are a group of houses over there. Quickly, maybe they can help us," said Jack.

Jack and Bruce had gotten everyone out of the truck. Dorrissa and the girls hurried the children as best they could. One of them was injured and had been tended to by Dr. Foxing. Steven was carrying the hurt youngster in his arms. Steven also told Becka to grab the suitcase with the money when they left the van. Bruce and Tim carried the weapons. Finally, after a struggle to get there with the kids, they all arrived at the little village.

"Can you help us," asked Dorrissa, when an elderly couple came outside to greet them.

They were mesmerized. They had never seen any children other than their own playmates years earlier. They were among the last children to grow up in the village. Their village was a dying village.

"Is there a phone here?" asked Steven.

"The only phone here is over there in the general store," said the old man.

Steven raced to use it.

"Is there a boat? Is there a boat anywhere to be found? The government is after us. If they catch us they will kill us. They will kill the children. Our only chance is escape. Escape to America," said Dorrissa.

The old man looked at the old woman. Then back at Jack and Dorrissa.

"The government is after you?" he asked.

"Yes. And they will kill us all if they catch us," replied Jack.

"We are certainly no fans of the government. It is an evil government. At one time this was a large thriving village. There are but few of us left. Soon we shall be no more. Gone like the fish in the lake, the birds in the sky, the animals in the forest, we shall disappear also, to join our ancestors in a far better world."

"Can you help us? Is there a boat anywhere? Or boats? Enough for us to escape?" asked Dorrissa.

"There is an old fishing tug in a boathouse by the pier. It has not been used since last fall but has proven in the past to be reliable. Come let us see," said the old Indian.

"Hello? Livingstone?"

"Steven? Is that you?"

"Yes."

"My God man, I'd almost given up on you. It's near dark. Where are you?"

"We're on Manitoulin Island. There were controllers everywhere. We had to change plans. We never would have made it to Sault Ste. Marie. We're trying to find a boat to cross over to your country. We don't have much time. They know we are here."

"Steven. Two helicopters landed here almost two hours ago. Both are carrying a heavily armed task force. They want you bad."

"That would be Sloan. I'm sure he is just frothing at the mouth waiting to close in on us."

"Where exactly are you Steven?"

"We're near the westerly tip of the island. A little village called Meldrum Bay."

"Yes. I see it here on the map. But you have to travel past Cockburn Island to get to us. Our closest point of land to you is St. Joseph Island."

"Just a minute Livingstone...Hang on for a minute."

"Yes...uh huh...Thank God! That's terrific. Get everyone on board. I'll be right there."

"Steven? Steven?" Livingstone shouted.

"Yes, I'm still here. I was just told there is a boat. I have to go. There is no time to waste."

"Steven... Take the boat and keep to the north of Cockburn Island. I will have the Coast Guard meet you off of St. Joseph Island. They will be waiting in the middle of Lake Superior on the American side. I cannot give them the command to cross over however. You know that would be an international incident."

"Yes, I realize that Livingstone. If we don't get through this...Well...I want to thank you for everything you've done. You truly are a good friend."

"You'll get through it. I just know you will. Steven I... Steven? Steven?"

"Yes?"

"They have just started up the helicopters. They're coming for you."

"I've got to go!"

"Steven. I have a helicopter here. I'm flying out to St. Joseph's Island at once. See you there, my friend."

Steven hung up and ran down to the shoreline. Two other Indians had joined the old man and were herding the children onto the boat. It had been started and sounded good. It was music to Steven's ears.

Livingstone Richwaters, the United States Attorney General, had ordered his helicopter started also. He climbed into it and was waiting. He wanted to take off at the exact time the two Canadian helicopters took off. He wanted to show the Canadians that he knew what they were up to and that he would be watching them. Not exactly a show of force, but a show all the same. He didn't have long to wait.

Sloan ordered his men to take off, bound for the westerly tip of Manitoulin Island. As Sloan's chopper gained altitude, he glanced over and saw the Americans right beside him. They were on their side of the border. He didn't anticipate this. He wouldn't have even dreamt that Jack and Dorrissa could ever have such an impressive welcoming committee waiting to meet them.

Steven Laurence. It had to be him Sloan thought. Steven arranged it all. Well, no matter. His helicopters would head the Survival Group's boat off before it could make it out of Canadian waters. Sure, he had more ground to cover in order to do it but choppers can cover a lot of ground in a hurry. He laughed.

Sloan looked over once more to see Livingstone watching him...Very sternly. Who the fuck does he think he is, Sloan thought to himself. Sloan smiled over at the American, waved, and gave him the thumbs up. Then, with a look of scorn on his face, Sloan slowly inverted his thumb. Finally he laughed. It was a hideous, insane laugh.

Livingstone stared hard and long at him. What kind of man could this possibly be he thought? Now he had an inkling of what his friend Steven had been up against. He could only shake his head in wonder.

Livingstone had called the U.S. Coast Guard and a boat had been dispatched from its port on St. Joseph's Island. It would be waiting for Steven and his group at the half- way point between St. Joseph's and Cockburn Islands. The space between the Canadian and American helicopters had grown wider and Livingstone could no longer see inside. But he had his pilot keep astride of the Canadians all the way.

Sloan's choppers had passed the mid-way point of St. Joseph's Island when he viewed a boat coming his way. It was close to passing Cockburn Island and heading for St. Joseph's. He could not know for sure if it was Jack and Dorrissa's boat, but he would take no chances.

"Faster, faster damn it!" Sloan screamed at the pilot.

"I'm going as fast as I can," he replied.

As their old tug crossed the northern most tip of Cockburn Island, Steven could see the waiting U.S. Coast Guard vessel in the distance through his binoculars.

"There it is," Steven yelled. It is waiting just like Livingstone said it would be.

But before their boat could reach American waters, Sloan intercepted them. With only a bit farther for the tug to go, Sloan dropped down from the sky right in their path. He ordered his men to fire their weapons in front of the bow to break the boat's stride. Bullets tore into the old tug's wood as splinters the size of kindling flew through the air. The pilot, who was the old Indian, turned his vessel starboard. Sloan grabbed the loudspeaker.

"Turn your boat around. Turn it around now and go back to port or you shall be fired upon indiscriminately. Any disobedience on your part and I will order my men to shoot to kill. Do you understand me? I repeat, turn your boat around now."

The tug sat stationary, not moving, as the old Indian considered the alternative. A barrage of machinegun fire tore through the water in front of the boat signaling Sloan's impatience. With the renewed sound of gunfire breaking out, Dr. Foxing and Tim rushed to the engine room where the weapons had been placed. Steven, Jack and Bruce had earlier grabbed the last three rifles and went up above deck to keep guard. They told Tim and Bill to stay below and help with everything down there. All that were left were shotguns and they would not be of any use said Steven. They would only get in the way and perhaps get themselves killed. But enough was enough. They could not sit still any longer.

Everyone down below heard the shooting and felt the pangs of fear. The tension was severe. The children, noticing the strain on their caregivers, were getting cranky and beginning to fuss and cry. Monica and Eloise tried very hard to keep them amused and redirect their feelings. It was all Hope could do just to cope. Completely shattered by the death of Paul, she sat huddled in a trance-like state in the corner, Dorrissa by her side. Everyone wondered how Susan and Alice had made out. Rhonda, who had never fully recovered from the events played out at the train station, was far too brittle to be placed in this situation. All of a sudden she snapped. She got up, screamed, and made a break for the hatch that led to the top deck to escape the dungeon-like atmosphere that had been suffocating her soul.

"We're all going to die here. Let me out. The ship is sinking. I've got to get out of here," Rhonda shouted hysterically as she ran for the ladder.

"Becka, grab her," shouted Dorrissa from across the room.

Becka made a lunge at Rhonda. Seeing Becka coming straight for her, Rhonda hauled off and slugged her. She caught Becka right in the side of her head and down she went, knocked out cold. The two Indian guides, who had helped everyone on board, leapt into action. They sprang on Rhonda, finally pinning her to the ground. Not without a fight though. Rhonda was very wiry and she continually tried to lash out at them. It was their job to make everyone stay down below. The old Indian, who seemed to be the chief, had instructed them to protect the women and children and keep them there. The doctor and Tim both came from the engine room each carrying a shotgun. They were startled to see Becka unconscious on the floor and the Indians struggling with Rhonda.

"What happened here?" Dr. Foxing asked.

"She's a crazy lady. Help us with her," pleaded one of the guides.

"Tim. Get my bag," the doctor ordered.

Dr. Foxing knelt down and injected a sedative into Rhonda's arm as Tim helped the other guides hold her still. Within minutes the fight left her and she passed out. Dorrissa was kneeling down with Becka's head in her lap. She was just starting to come to. The doctor came over to check on her.

"How are you feeling young lady?" he asked.

"I feel like I've been kicked in the head," answered Becka.

"Let me see there," said Dr. Foxing as he gently turned her face to look at the bruise that was developing just above her cheekbone. It was also starting to swell. "Well, that girl certainly packs a wallop. I'll say that for her. You should have a nice shiner for your trouble but you'll be alright sweetheart." Turning to Dorrissa, Dr. Foxing said, "Becka will be fine, stay with her Dorrissa. So will Rhonda. She should be out for about four hours though."

Livingstone Richwaters was watching everything closely as he hovered above his Coast Guard cruiser. There seemed to be some communication going on between the two Canadian whirly-birds. Sloan ordered his other chopper to take up a position to one side of the tug while he maintained his place in front. Jack was kneeling on the starboard side behind a lifeboat. Bruce took a stance at the stern, using a coiled wire winch for cover. Steven was situated with the Indian skipper in the Pilot House up by the bow, the engine idling at the ready. Both Jack and Steven, by virtue of eyesight, took the two rifles that had telescopes. Steven had the one without.

Sloan again broadcasted over the loudspeaker. "I've given you fair warning. My men are coming aboard to take control. If you know what is good for you, you will not interfere. Unless of course you want to join your friends," spouted Sloan. "Oh. Didn't I tell you? About those two women that led my men on a wild goose chase? Unfortunately, they are no more I'm afraid. I hated to watch them suffer like that though. It was a real pity to see it. I still can't get the screams out of my head. Oh yes. They were in good company. We offed the six hostages too. After all, I hate to see families split up, don't you? All's well that end's well, I say." Sloan signed off with that unmistakable maniacal laugh of his.

The three men hated to hear what they did to the woman. Jack swore to himself he would kill Sloan if it was the last thing he ever did. They all hoped that the rest of the Support Group did not hear what Sloan had said

Suddenly the helicopter by the side of the tug moved directly over top of them and hovered there. As two of Sloan's men began to lower themselves with ropes from their chopper, both Jack and Bruce took careful aim. Down they came, crashing lifeless onto the deck of the boat.

"Yea," shouted Jack, standing up. "Take that Sloan you degenerate piece of crap." Jack took aim once again, this time firing at the pilot. The bullet crashed through the windshield, missing its mark, but was close enough to scare him into veering off what he felt was a safe distance away.

Tim and Dr. Foxing emerged from below deck to help in the struggle. The doctor had forgotten to bring his medical bag in his haste. Fortunately Tim had picked it up and brought it along. Steven was shooting from a broken window that he had smashed in the Pilot House. He was aiming at Sloan's helicopter but did not seem to be having any luck. He moved out to the doorway to get a better view. Tim and the doctor scurried behind the Pilot House for cover. They began firing successive rounds from their shotguns as fast as they could load them. Jack could see what Tim and the Doctor were attempting and he proceeded to assist them...He took aim for the rotor of Sloan's helicopter. Quickly Sloan's pilot raised his craft with swerving diversionary tactics gaining much needed altitude in his defense against Jack's weapon. Now was the moment, the break that they needed. The Indian guide put his tug back on course and proceeded to make one last dash for the American Coast Guard cruiser. They were almost there.

Sloan's other chopper swooped back in to renew the fight. Sloan was livid. He ordered both of his crews to terminate everyone who was on deck. A renewed burst of machinegun fire was let loose on the little tug. Both the Indian pilot and Steven were shot and fell to the deck. From his viewpoint, Livingstone could not see them and worried that Steven might have been hit.

"Bruce," yelled Jack. "Dad's been shot!" He could not see them at all. The speed of the tug dropped right off. "Dr. Foxing!" yelled Jack. "Dr. Foxing!" he screamed still louder.

"Yes Jack. What's wrong?"

"Steven's been shot. He's in the pilot house."

"I'm on my way."

Jack and Bruce continued firing back at the helicopter, even though they were terribly outgunned. No sooner had Jack raised himself to get a better shot, he fell back crumpling to the deck. Bruce saw him go over.

"Jack...Jack. Hang on Jack. I'm coming," said Bruce, throwing down his rifle. He dashed across the deck, zigzagging and somersaulting under constant fire. He had to get his brother to cover. Jack had been hit more than once. One of them was a gut shot. Bruce had caught one in his right shoulder and another in his left hip on his charge over. He would be okay though. He was deathly worried about Jack. The wound to Jack's stomach looked bad. Applying pressure to stem the flow of blood until the doctor could get there, Bruce choked, "Okay Bro, I got you."

As he hovered above American waters it was all too much for Livingstone to bear. Steven might have been shot. Others definitely were. The lack of firepower on board the boat was leading up to a lopsided slaughter. The tug was not yet out of Canadian waters. But it was close, very close. Close enough for me, Livingstone decided. Slamming his hand down beside the instrument panel, he said, "Today, our side of the border begins over there." International incident be damned, he thought. It would be his word against theirs. "Lieutenant Wilkie," barked the Attorney General. "We have jurisdiction over American waters. Move in and board that vessel NOW!" The United States Coast Guard would take command of the tug.

When Sloan saw the Coast Guard pull up alongside of Jack's boat he was furious. Sloan ordered the squad in the other chopper to open fire upon the Americans. Seeing his cruiser under attack, the Attorney General ordered his helicopter to return fire. A heat seeking cruise missile was let loose, instantaneously finding its target. The chopper disintegrated in a ball of flames.

The force of the explosion had caused Sloan's chopper to spin around, back and forth, knocking it out into the distance. By the time the pilot had regained control, maintaining a steady level, Livingstone's helicopter was hovering directly across from it. Sloan's chopper was no match for the American's. He had no missiles at all in his arsenal.

Sloan watched through the windshield as Livingstone raised his arm. He extended his index finger and pointed it at Sloan. Then he pulled it back and drew it across his neck. There was no mistaking its meaning. Sloan was a dead man.

"Get out of here! Get out of here right now! Go to Manitoulin Island. It's closer."

Sloan's pilot turned their chopper around and took off as fast as they could go.

"Should I fire on them Sir," the pilot asked the Attorney General.

"No," Livingstone replied. "There has been enough killing for one day. Take us home. I want to wait on our Coast Guard's arrival."

Sloan directed his pilot to fly back to the Control Center at Little Current. Controllers had already happened upon the scene there and had freed their fellow officers who had been locked up. They threw Bob's body from the trunk of their car, where they had placed it after his demise, alongside Paul's.

Sloan was in a blind rage when he landed. The first thing he did was call Roger at the Command Center. "Let me speak to Roger 1208A14."

"This is Roger."

"Ya? And this is Sloan. And remember what I said? They got away. They all got away because of you...Because of your fucking stupidity. You hear me? You're a dead man! A fucking dead man!" yelled Sloan, as he hung up the phone. "Get those fucking bodies out of here, you stupid or something? They reek. You there...Get me the Prime Minister on the line. Make it snappy. You got anything to drink around this Hell Hole?"

Roger was standing still, very still. Sloan's words echoed in his ears. You're a dead man...A fucking dead man.

"No Sir. I don't think so. It's you who are a dead man," said Roger, quietly to himself as he reached over to press a button, glad that he had decided to monitor the Care Minister after the first threat that he had made to him earlier.

"Hey, Fuck Face. Have you got me the Prime Minister yet? I'm warning... warn...ing..."

Sloan dropped to the floor. The controllers all ran to his side.

"He's dead!" one of them said, in complete surprise.

"Thank Government," another replied.

When the ships came in to dock, Livingstone Richwaters would be there to greet them. He had witnessed the fallen wounded and was awaiting a fleet of ambulances to arrive and whisk everyone away to the hospital.

After tending to Steven, Dr. Foxing was able to stabilize Jack. Bruce had saved his brother's life by keeping a constant pressure on the wound until the doctor could attend to him. Jack was far from out of the woods yet though. He had been hit three times. One was a particularly bad gut shot. Jack had lost a lot of blood and was definitely in rough shape. The old Indian, their pilot, the stranger who had risked his life for them in their quest to escape, had succumbed to his wounds.

The Attorney General did not have long to wait. The Coast Guard cutter pulled in alongside the tug. Piloted by two members of the Coast Guard, they lowered the boarding plank to shore. Two additional soldiers had also come on board and went below to attend to the women and children. Becka was up and around by now but Rhonda was still under sedation and resting peacefully.

"Here, let us take him from you," an officer said to Bruce about Jack. "He can rest by the Pilot House. Ambulance stretcher bearers shall be here shortly."

"That's not soon enough. I've got him. He's staying with me. I'll carry him off," replied Bruce holding Jack in his arms.

"But you're wounded too," the officer stated.

"I can manage. He's staying with me," said Bruce as he walked down the ramp carrying Jack, praying all the way. Dr. Foxing and Tim, Steven supported between them, were not far behind. Though he was limping, at least Steven could walk.

"Help me! I need help," yelled Bruce as he got off the ramp. He made his way, holding Jack tightly against his chest, to a group of soldiers. "I've got a seriously injured man here. He's lost a lot of blood."

Prime Minister Billerts was pacing up and down defiantly as he waited for word from Sloan, when he was approached by Berry Gadwinner, the Justice Minister.

"John, I've just been informed. Steven, Jack, Dorrissa, the children...All of them. They all got away. They've crossed into the United States."

"But how...How could that have happened?" questioned the Prime Minister.

"Sit down John, I'll explain. It's a long story.

"But where is Sloan? Why haven't I heard from him?

"Sloan is dead, John."

"Dead?" said the Prime Minister, stunned by the news.

"Yes. I'm afraid that's not all," replied Berry. "A doctor named Trent has been running D.N.A. tests of samples for the last two days up at the Eastern Cell Repository."

"Yes I know. I'm aware of that," replied the Prime Minister.

"Well, as it turns out," said the Justice Minister, "he ran a check on Steven Laurence's cell samples."

"Yes."

"One of them, after creation, was named Jack 1145A12. The other one was named Bruce 187A16."

"BUT...BUT...How could Dorrissa have planned that?"

As the ambulances pulled up to the hospital, Dorrissa could see the attendants waiting to help everyone inside. She ran up to one of them. "Excuse me. Can you help me? My partner was wounded in some fighting and was brought here by helicopter with two other wounded men. Do you know where I can find them?"

Pointing to an older woman inside the building, the attendant spoke up saying, "Go see that lady in admitting and give her the details."

"Becka," yelled Dorrissa.

"Yes?" answered Becka.

"Stay with the children. Do not let them out of your sight. I have to find out where they have taken Jack. And Bruce and Steven. I'll make my way back to you as soon as I can."

"Can I come?" asked Shelly.

"No. Please stay and help Becka," replied Dorrissa.

Dorrissa ran into the building to confront the admissions staff.

"Excuse me. My partner was brought here recently. He was flown in by army helicopter along with two other wounded men."

"Name please," said the woman.

"Jack. His name is Jack."

"Last name."

"It's just Jack. He doesn't have a last name. Only a number."

"Well I'm sorry but..."

"Wait. He came in with a Mr. Steven Laurence and another man named Bruce."

"Just one moment please."

Dorrissa waited anxiously while the woman checked through the hospital's records.

"Ah, yes. Mr. Steven Laurence and two other men, one Jack and one Bruce, were admitted a little more than two hours ago. They were transferred to the fourth floor."

"How do I get there?" asked Dorrissa.

"Take that corridor over there. Turn left and keep going until you see a lighted ceiling marker that says 'elevators this way'. Turn right and they will be on your left hand side."

"Thank you so much," said Dorrissa.

On the fourth floor, coming off the elevator, Dorrissa read a sign that asked visitors to please check in with the nursing station.

"Hello. I'm looking for my partner Jack."

"Jack who?" asked the nurse/receptionist.

"He doesn't have a last name."

"Oh. You must mean those three men that were admitted with bullet wounds."

"Yes that's them. Where are they? How are they? Can I see them? My partner Jack, I mean."

"I'm sorry Ms..."

"Dorrissa. My name is Dorrissa."

"I'm sorry Dorrissa. Those men are in surgery and have not come out yet. Are you next of kin or related to one of them?"

"Jack. Jack is my partner. I have to see him. I have to know how he is."

"Well Dorrissa. If Jack is your partner you may take a seat right over there in the waiting room. I'll see to it that a doctor informs you of his condition after the operation.

"Thank you," answered Dorrissa, as she left to take a seat.

The rest of the Support Group, including the children, had been escorted into the hospital's cafeteria. Becka, including the other adults, refused to be separated from the children. Everyone was checked over and found to be okay. Rhonda had awakened from her drug induced sleep to be told that she was, indeed, safe and secure and now in America. Even Hope was beginning to come around. She was finding comfort and new strength in her daughter Sarah who looked very much like Paul she thought.

"Hello. Are you Dorrissa?"

Dorrissa had drifted off and was being gently roused by one of the surgeons. It was almost midnight.

"Yes...Yes I am," she stated groggily.

"Your partner Jack has been wheeled out of the operating room. We have done all that we can for him. Now it is a matter of waiting and seeing what happens."

"May I see him? I've got to see him," pleaded Dorrissa.

"That is out of the question. He is in recovery along with the other two men. I should tell you that we almost lost him twice. You have the paramedics to thank for his survival up to this point. As well as those two friends of his," said the doctor.

"What do you mean?" asked Dorrissa.

"Jack had lost a lot of blood before he arrived here. He has a very rare blood type, did you know? We did not have any here on hand. Surprisingly enough, both of those other two men he was with have the same blood type. We were all flabbergasted to discover that. At any rate, even though they had both lost some blood themselves, they demanded we take a bit from each of them and give it to Jack. Without their blood...We would have lost Jack. Of that I am certain. Someone is definitely watching out for him to be sure."

"Oh thank you Doctor. Thank you so very much."

"I've enquired as to the whereabouts of the rest of your party. Apparently they are all bedded down in our hospital cafeteria for the night. Perhaps you should join them. We won't know anything more until morning so it is probably best you go join them there and get some rest. If there is a change for the worse, I shall have someone notify you immediately. Otherwise, I or one of my associates will speak to you in the morning."

"Yes Doctor. Thank you."

"What's all this then?"

Dr. Foxing turned to see Livingstone Richwaters standing in the entrance to the cafeteria. The Family Support Group and all of the children were sequestered in a corner. There were people sitting at tables by the self serve counter having breakfast or enjoying a cup of coffee. It was 7:30 a.m.

"Good morning Sir," said Becka, on her way back with two coffees. "I thought I recognized you. We are all over here. Have you any news on Bruce or the others?"

"No. I was told that they are still in recovery. I called last night to see if I could see them and was told absolutely not. I made up my mind to be here first thing in the morning."

"Dorrissa's still asleep. She stayed up worrying most of the night."

"I think I'll wander over and get a coffee. I'll be over to join you presently."

The children woke up and began to fuss. The disturbance had jarred Dorrissa from her sleep by the time the Attorney General made his way over to where she was situated. The kids were all ready to start their day. The adults hurried them off to the washrooms. Cafeteria staff had been by earlier to arrange for breakfast.

"Dorrissa. Here," said Livingstone. "I took the opportunity to get you some coffee, a bit of cream and a little sugar."

"Thank you Attorney General. Just the way I like it."

"Please, call me Livingstone. Did you get to see Jack or the others last night at all?"

"No. They were all in lockdown," Dorrissa smiled nervously.

"The Doctors here at Saint Mary's are excellent. It is the best hospital in Sault Ste. Marie and one of the best in the United States. But please excuse my thoughtlessness. How are you doing Dorrissa?"

"I am fine...On pins and needles, but fine."

"The children...They seem to be doing well also. I was wondering if you..."

"Excuse me," said a doctor, interrupting their conversation. "Remember me?" he smiled.

"Yes of course," answered Dorrissa excitedly.

"Your partner Jack is awake. I'm glad to say that the worst is over. It will be awhile before he is up and around but he is asking for you. You can see him for a few minutes."

Dorrissa was full of emotion. Tears of joy filled her eyes.

"Oh thank you so much," she hugged the doctor spilling her coffee in the process.

"Oh I'm so sorry," she cried.

"Think nothing of it," replied the doctor. "Also, if you could bring your friends Becka and Shelly, the other two gentlemen are asking to see them."

"Yes, of course. Becka. Shelly. Come quick," Dorrissa yelled from across the room.

"Mind if I tag along," the Attorney General asked the Doctor. "Mr. Laurence is a very dear friend of mine and I'd like to pay my respects."

The Doctor looked at Livingstone. "Perhaps you can see him for a minute or two Sir."

"Jack, Jack," said Dorrissa running to his arms. "I was so worried. I love you so much."

"That's what kept me going Darling. That and our children. How are they doing?"

They're fine Jack. Children at that age are very resilient." Then, biting her lip, Dorrissa spoke up. "The Doctor told me that you would have died if it hadn't been for Steven and Bruce. All three of you share a rare blood type that the hospital did not have. Steven and Bruce both gave you some of their blood. Oh Jack, I love you so much." Dorrissa bent down and gave Jack a tender hug.

"You mean to say I now have their blood coursing through my veins?" questioned Jack.

"That's correct big brother. Or shall I say blood brother," said Bruce with a smile.

"It all sounds a little too family to me," offered Becka.

"What d'ya mean?" demanded Jack.

"Now you've got him going," laughed Steven.

"LIKE DUCKS!" replied Jack.

Everyone laughed. Shelly and Steven and Becka and Bruce were also getting reacquainted in a similar fashion. Bruce, noticing Becka's shiner, asked her what happened. She had slipped and fallen she said. Rhonda had apologized earlier to her. She was very sorry for what she had done. Becka accepted her apology and decided that was the end of it. Shelly told Steven that she had never known anyone as brave as he was.

"Steven. You made it, my old friend. I knew you would. I wanted to see you last night but had to wait along with the others," commented Livingstone as he entered the room after giving everyone enough time to get reacquainted.

"Livingstone," rasped Steven, "I want you to meet my sons. That bandaged up one over there to my right is Jack. The one to my left is his brother Bruce."

"Sons? You have sons Steven? You didn't tell me that," said Livingstone.

Steven cracked a smile. "I didn't want you to feel obligated. But that's not all. I have grandsons also...Four of them. They are here too."

Livingstone looked at Dorrissa. She looked back, smiling.

"Well, I'll meet them all in good time. You just go and get better now," said Livingstone, with a smile. "I've arranged accommodation for everyone at a nearby motel until you three gentlemen have recovered enough to be discharged. In the meantime, we will have some ongoing discussion pertaining to your future here in America.

"I also want you to know that the President has spoken with the Canadian Internal Prime Minister, Mr. Billarts. There shall be no further trouble from him regarding this episode I can assure you. The Indian guides that came over with you were offered sanctuary by our government as well but they wished to return home. They and their tug, along with the body of their dead skipper, were returned by escort to Manitoulin Island.

"You all take care now. One of my Chiefs Of Staff will be here later this morning to transfer you to your new accommodations. As for you women, you shall have a car at your disposal, 24/7, for whenever you wish to come here on visitation. I'll see you all soon I promise. And Steven, I'll be back to see you again too my friend. I am very interested in hearing your side of this whole fascinating story."

After Livingstone left, the women filled in, for their men, all the events that had taken place since their arrival at the hospital. The men, for their part, told the women about Sloan's rants from up above in his helicopter and the fate of Susan and Alice. They were true heroines that had sacrificed all so that the rest would live. Jack stated that he wished Sloan was dead. He wished he had killed him. He didn't know that one of his wishes had been granted.

As Livingstone climbed into his automobile, his chauffeur, who had been holding the door open, said, "I don't understand it Sir. It's really crazy."

"What do you mean Sergeant?" asked the Attorney General.

"I was thinking Sir. How, in little more than a century did the world's number one country to which immigrants flocked become the world's number one country from which its residents flee?"

"Well Sergeant. That's what they call a conundrum."

###

The End

About the author

Joel Foote is a fourth generation Canadian born in Toronto in 1950. His great, great grandfather came over from England in 1836.

Joel has written on and off for all his life. His first juvenile attempts were in grade school. In high school he was in a Writing and Debating club. After which he followed in his grandfather's foote-steps into the noble profession of printing.

After thirty years in the printing industry, he decided to retire and pursue a writing career. This, his first novel, was completed in 2008. It was inspired by his own children.

