Date: Wed, 9 Jan 2002 19:01:01 -0700
From: Dan Kirk <kirkjr2@home.com>
Subject: Wreckers Chapter 8

This story contains some erotic and violent situations.  The violence, and
sexual material, for that matter, are not gratuitous.  They are part of the
story.  If this is illegal where you reside, or you are not of legal age,
read no further!  Otherwise, enjoy.  All work remains the property of the
owner, and is printed on this web site, and its authorized
mirrors/affiliates by permission of the author.  Any other printing,
distribution, etc. is prohibited.

I'd like to thank Ed once more for his work in proofing this.


Wreckers Chapter 8 - Over The Corpses of Billions


The blackness wrapped Justin inside it, absorbing his tears.  He couldn't
stop crying, and great sobs wracked him, as he grieved over the parts of
him that were dead.  An eternity passed, but his grief never lessened.
This is what came of letting love into his heart.  He should have known
better.

He didn't know how long he'd lain there, in this black void, but as the
grief finally ebbed in him, memory returned.

London, hundreds dead.

Paris, maybe as many as a million.

Rome, Istanbul, Jerusalem, Sydney, the names rolled through his brain, and
guilt took its turn running through him.  Millions dead in that moment he'd
lost control, let his emotions rule him.  'Never Again,' he promised.

But why never again?  Why didn't he just end it here?  He'd killed millions
of innocents, how many he prayed to never know.  Suicide.  Something he'd
thought about, but never tried.  He was too much a coward to face the
question of the afterlife.  But what did it matter now?  Maybe he could be
with his two loves again in some fairy tale heaven.

'No!' he thought.  This was life, not some fairy tale.  They were gone, and
he was no more ready now to face that great unknown than he had been five
years ago or ten.  But what now?

A flicker of thought, and the void was gone.  Justin found himself standing
where last he remembered, at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial.  Washington,
D.C.  It was early morning, the sun trying to reach through a misty autumn
morning.

Autumn?

Confusion swarmed over him as he realized that more time had passed than he
thought.  It was definitely cool, and the trees he could see reflected
autumn.  Had he really been out of it that long?  His eyes snapped back to
the trees he had looked at, and after staring for a while, he looked around
at the rest of the city he could see.  It had the look of abandonment,
disuse that he'd seen in deserted parts of Phoenix after the Event.

While he stood there, looking, he couldn't see any people, just a few
animals grazing at the overgrown grass around the memorial park.  Reaching
out with his mind, he couldn't feel any other human beings within the
limits of the city.  Numbly he sat down on the steps, wondering at the
change, and wondered what else had changed.

The base.  If he tried to go back to the base, he wasn't sure what he'd
find.  Would they be gone?  Would the strangers from across the ocean be
there, in charge?  What was happening?  What HAD happened?  The image of
the twins popped back into his head, dead on a hill in San Francisco.
Grief welled up, closing his throat, eyes leaking tears, shoulders shaking
with sobs that couldn't get past his closed throat.

Around him, the ground starting shaking in time to his sobs.  It took him a
few minutes to realize what was happening around him, but a piece of the
memorial above him fell to the ground and bounced down the steps, hitting
him in the back.  It bounced off of him, landing yards away, but the impact
returned him to his senses.  "Oh, GODS!" escaped his lips as he realized
that those hills in San Francisco had been shuddering like that.  What had
he done?

Sitting on the steps, with his knees drawn up to his chest, Justin buried
his head under his curled arms, and wept, determined to grieve without
shaking the earth around him.  The void seeped back in, and Justin let
himself start to drift off into it when he felt a change around him.

Three presences made themselves known on the edge of his mind.  One was
very familiar, and two he didn't know..but they felt like he should.
Lifting his head, dreading what he'd see, Justin looked through his
tear-stained eyes at the three standing in front of him.

At first, his vision was so blurred from the tears that he could only make
out a blur of three figures.  Through the blur, he could make out two tall
figures standing on each side of a shorter figure.  White pants and boots,
and pale blue shirts and heads topped by golden blond hair brought back the
memory of his first sight of Jason and Curtis, standing next to David.  A
fresh surge of grief swelled in him, and he clamped down on it, pushing it
aside.

As his vision became more focused, his eyes centered on the shorter, dark
haired man standing in the middle, and the grief raged for a moment out of
control.  The hair was longer, dark bangs touching the eyes, and there were
twin streaks of grey at each temple, but it was David Baxter standing
there.  As his heart did leaps inside his chest, Justin turned his clearer
vision on the two blond haired people at David's side.

It was obvious all three were wearing uniforms of some type.  David's shirt
was a darker blue, but the two blonds had shirts, no, they weren't cut
right to be called shirts, they looked like tunics out of the middle ages,
and they were almost a powder blue.  All three wore tight fitting white
pants, and low-cut boots.  On the left chest of the tunics was an emblem, a
blue globe held in cupped hands.  The blonds had an open book on top of the
globe, while David's had a golden sunburst.

His mind told him that all three had the ability, but his eyes told him the
one on the left was a female.  Both the blonds were young, about 18.  At
least they no longer reminded him of the twins.  They were too big-boned.
Instead they reminded him, of...himself and his sister when they were at
that age.

While he had stared at them, they had been staring at him.  David's face
held a look of shock, mouth hanging open.  The two kids at David's side had
a look of amazement on their faces, and their eyes blazed with happiness.

"See!" the girl said, her voice a beautiful alto.  "I told you that it was
him causing the tremors."

"Wow!" the boy said, in a deeper bass, "I knew it was him as soon as I felt
it, but I still don't believe it!"

As Justin sat there on those steps, staring at them, the shock on David's
face melted away, to be replaced with a mixture of sadness and joy.
Stumbling, he lurched towards Justin and collapsed on him, wrapping the man
in his arms, letting tears flow for the first time in years.

David's tears set Justin's own off again, and this time the grief would not
be shrugged aside, and consumed all of Justin's being as David's strong
arms wrapped him in safety and comfort.  The two blond kids just stood
there next to each other, each wrapping an arm around the waist of the
other.  Tears shone in their eyes, but gentle smiles curved their lips
upward.

Hours passed as Justin cried himself out, and David joined him in shedding
tears.  When the grief finally subsided to a bearable level, Justin pushed
David back slightly, to look in his eyes, wanting to know what the man was
thinking.  Sensing the grief in Justin subside, David smiled gently down at
Justin, and standing up himself, pulled Justin to his feet.

"Hon, there's two people here you should meet," David said aloud, moving
around behind Justin, resting his hands on the man's shoulders, "Justin, I
want you to meet Erica and Tad.  Kids, this is your dad."

Startlement sprang from every pore of Justin's body at David's words, but
he kenw they were true as soon as he heard them.  His kids, but they were
grown up!  Yesterday they'd been cute little three year olds, listening to
some silly story he told.  Squealing aloud, they cut off his rambling
thoughts with squeals of joy and rushed him to wrap their arms around him.

"We knew you weren't dead!" Tad shouted.

"We love you!" Erica murmured in his ear, in contrast to Tad.

The aching loneliness in his head eased a little as they opened their minds
and slid into an easy rapport with him.  In silence, with their arms
wrapped around him, David and his kids shared with him all that happened
while he was lost in the void.

***

David was shocked when Alan had reappeared so soon after leaving.  Just
yesterday he'd been sent to investigate reports of an unknown ship off the
coast of Virginia.  There weren't any Navy ships in the area, so Command
had sent an urgent order for someone with teleporting abilities to check
out the report.  Next to Jaz, Alan was the most powerful person left on the
base, so he'd been sent less than two hours after Justin had departed.

David was just happy that Henry was here.  His lover had shown up at the
base unexpectedly to talk to the twins, and had sent a trainee to fetch
them (they were teaching a class), while they waited in a conference room.
Strangely, Henry hadn't sent for either him or Captain Kiles, but David
always knew when Henry was in the area.

He'd just barely had time to hug Henry, and whisper "I love you" when Alan
Mills had appeared out of thin air.  Both men turned to stare at the man,
but before anyone could say anything, Justin appeared.  One look at the
man's handsome face said something was wrong.

Tears streaked down a face covered in dust, and every muscle in his body
shook as if they were being torn apart by grief, or anger.  A once white
t-shirt hung in near tatters from his powerful frame, and the khaki shorts
were covered in black soot.  But it was the eyes that caused David's voice
to catch in his throat.  They were absolutely flat, but something raged
deep inside like the fires of madness.  Worry emanated perceptibly from
Henry as both men turned to their strongest officer.

Before anyone could do anything, Alan disappeared, a look of pure fear on
his face.  Just as quickly, Justin also disappeared.  While David stood
there flabbergasted, scared at what could have happened, the young trainee
who had been sent to fetch the twins ran into the conference room.

"Sir!" the kid's adolescent voice rang in the room, cracking as he
continued, "Colonel, sir!  The twins, they're gone."

The instant the kid said it, David knew it was true, and that obviously
Lt. Colonel Alan Mills had something to do with it.  He only prayed that
not too many innocent people died before Justin ripped the bastard apart.

While Henry interrogated the youngster about the twins' disappearance,
David walked out into the corridor, wondering what else was going to go
wrong, and what they could do about it.  This was a disaster in more ways
than one.  The figure of Colonel Burns walking down the passageway only
confirmed that it was just going to get worse from here.

"Colonel Sells!" the man's voice did amazing things in conveying Burns'
contempt for Henry. "Command is on the horn.  They want you and all your
senior officers in Washington, ASAP.  It appears one of your pretty boys
has gone berserk."

>From the opposite direction of the corridor, Captain Kiles ran down the
corridor, his warm, welcoming face showing concern in every line.  At
Henry's mental command both men formed up, shoulders touching Henry's.
They both lowered their mental barriers, letting Henry seize the control
necessary for him to teleport all of them.

The conference room disappeared and was replaced by a dark command center.
David knew it was in a lower level of the White House.  Men, mostly older,
many dressed in the uniforms of generals and admirals, others in expensive
suits, sat around a large table, voices raised in dozens of arguments
raging at the same time.  Along the back of the room, several men, waiters,
all dark skinned, waited to fill any empty glasses of the elite who ran the
United States in this day and age.  Further back in the room, David could
feel the guards, some normal people, others were members of Henry's elite
security team.

The man at the head of the table finally noticed the three men standing at
the edge of the room, and slapped the table for silence.  He was the man
who ran things, hair gone white in his sixties, he still wore it the same
way as he had the last 20 years.  Without the makeup for the cameras, the
old preacher's face showed its true cragginess.  To his left, the man who
the country called their leader, their President, stopped his argument and
waited for the real boss to speak.

The old preacher, having held the position of power he lusted for in years,
swept the chair he had been sitting in out of his way, and stormed over to
the three men he'd summoned.  "Colonel Sells," he grated, fingers stabbing
into Henry's chest when he was close enough.

"I warned you about this!  You were supposed to keep all your people under
control, and you have FAILED," the old man's voice climbed with each word
like he was on the pulpit.  "We suffered your degeneracy, your evil
perversity, only because of the GOOD you can do in GOD'S name!  Now, your
one of your precious boys has gone and killed millions of GOD'S creatures!
What do you have to say for yourself?"

David was shocked that Henry's voice could be so calm, and so polite.
"Sir, my sincerest apology, but I haven't heard about what is obviously
going wrong.  Until I can find out what is happenening, I am unable to do
anything about it, or to rectify the wrongs that have been done."

After staring into Henry's eyes, searching for any hint of rebellion, the
old man stormed back to the table and grabbed some photos from the table.
He shoved them in Henry's face, barely letting the man reach up to take
them.  David looked out of the corner of his eyes, and what he saw was
confusing.  A satellite photo of what appeared to be a heavily disturbed
ocean.  There appeared to be a lot of flotsam in it.

"THAT!" screamed the man.  "THAT WAS CALIFORNIA!  One of your people caused
the earthquake.  He had NO RIGHT.  ONLY GOD HAS THE RIGHT!"

>From the table, a voice hesitantly said, "At least 20 million dead in
California alone, or what's left of it.  Massive damage as far east as
Oklahoma and the Dakotas.  Thousands of deaths from the aftershocks all
throughout the midwest and the western states.  We are estimating a total
in the neighborhood of 40 million.  Worse than when the riots started and
the planes started falling from bad fuel."

"AND THAT WAS NOT ENOUGH," the old man shouted, ripping the the first
picture to the floor, to reveal another satellite photo.  David recognized
a satellite photo of London, but was shocked to see a blasted hole where
Buckingham Palace should have been.  "The ENTIRE Royal Family, our allies,
and thousands more in the nearby areas, all gone."

The next photo showed burnt rubble where a firestorm had feasted on Paris.
On and on they went.  The military must have re-tasked every remaining
satellite to get all these pics.  The only thing that wasn't a condemnation
was the destruction, or freezing, of Moscow.  The preacher was pleased at
the fate of the communist bastards (who cares that most weren't
communists).  From the reports still coming in, the chase was still
happening, and who knows where they might end up.  It worried David, but
then, Henry would be able to teleport them out if necessary.

As the last photo was thrown to the ground, the power behind the Presidency
stepped once more into Henry's face, his voice barely a whisper this time.
"Once more, Colonel, who was it?  Which of your perverts did this deed?"

"Sir, I don't know who is doing this, but I can assure you that I seriously
doubt it's anyone sane attached to my command," Henry said, well aware that
the guards at the far side of the room were brainwashed so well that if
even he, their commanding officer, lied directly they'd tell the bastard
standing in front of him.

"WELL THEN, WHO IS IT?" the old man shouted, before clutching his chest
tightly.  Both David and Barry Kiles reached for the man, reaching out with
their abilities, then withdrawing as they felt the heart give out, neither
willing to save the man's life.  "There's nothing we can do," David said as
the old man collapsed, his chest gurgling.

"HE did it," one of the guards shouted, pointing at Henry.  Before anyone
had a chance to draw a weapon, or for anyone else to react, everyone was
thrown to the floor as the ground shook, and a great boom sounded from
several hundred feet above the undergroung bunker.  As dust and pieces of
concrete drifted down from the ceiling, David felt Henry's arm touch his,
and then as Henry's mind seized control, he felt himself disappear from the
room.

The sudden brightness of daylight blinded David after the darkness of the
bunker.  His mind slammed shut as soon as Henry released control.  Beyond
his mental barriers, he could feel a wash of emotions pushing to get in.
Rage, fear, loss, grief, madness hammered at him.  On the other side of
Henry, Barry Kiles was flopping on the ground, in seizures.  Blood and
froth foamed in his mouth, he had bitten his own tongue off from the flood
of emotions breaking through his thin barriers.  He had been been too slow
in raising them.

Before David could do more than rush to his side, his body went limp as his
heart gave out, and his pupils rolled up into the back of his head.
Mourning the loss of a friend, David stood, grasping Henry's arm, and
strengthened his own barriers, as he felt Henry was doing.

He followed Henry's gaze out over the city that had served as the nation's
capital for a few hundred years.  In the distance, above the Lincoln
Memorial, a blackness swirled.  It grew for a moment, and the strangling
emotions almost broke through his barriers.  Together, Henry and his legs
buckled under the strain and they collapsed into each other, falling to the
ground.  Then the emotions were gone.

As they regained their feet, and looked back to the Memorial, they saw the
last of the blackness disappear into a thin slash.  Grasping his lover's
hand, David reached out cautiously, trying to find some life in the city
below them.  There was none, not even animals.  Everything below them was
dead.

Henry's whisper sent more shivers through him, "What do we do now?"

"Home?" David asked, his voice barely a whisper.  Henry's answer was to
reach out with his mind, finding David ready, and teleport them home.

They appeared in front of the main entrance, which stood open for some
reason.  As David and Henry walked towards the mess hall, they were
surprised at what they saw.  Against the far wall stood every trainee,
graduate, and instructor at the school.  With their backs to them stood
Colonel Burns and about 50 soldiers with weapons drawn and pointed at the
men against the wall.

David could feel the rage boiling from Henry, and so he was not surprised
at the lightning which streaked out and hit all of the soldiers at once.
All 50 of them died, the smell of scorched clothing and flesh filling the
mess hall immediately.  Burns spun around, staring at Henry, pistol in his
hand.  The last words he heard was Henry saying, "I never did like you,
asshole," as Henry summoned fire to consume the man.

Against the wall, their people rushed over to them, questions bursting
forth faster than could be answered.

"What's going on?"

"What happened to the twins?"

"Why were they..."

Henry silenced them all with one shout, "Quiet!  We are leaving this base.
Everyone who can teleport, grab as many as you can."

"Where are we going?" one of them asked.

For a moment, Henry stood there, not able to think of a destination.  He
never had to answer that question, as a voice answered from the door.

"There's no need to go anywhere," Alan Mills' voice wafted softly into the
room.  "It's time we took charge, like we were meant to."

As David spun around, wishing for once that he had Henry's ability with the
elements so he could blast the man, he received another shock for the day.

Alan Mills stood there, his usual appearance of a man in his mid-20's.  His
uniform was dirty, like it had been through fires, floods, and who knew
what else.  That wasn't what shocked David.  What did was Alan's form
blurring into that of a stranger.  He grew taller, as tall as Justin had
been.  The hair turned a platinum blond, and grew down past his shoulders.
The eyes changed to a silver/grey color, as the shoulders narrowed, and the
figure of the man slimmed into an almost elfin thinness.

When the change was complete, the man continued in melodic voice, "I am
Bjorn.  With your help, we will make this world a better place.  The
normals have done nothing but lead us into death and destruction.  Instead
of fighting each other, we can join together and make this planet a good
place to live."

"Why?" Henry asked, flanked by the others from the Center.  "Why should we
follow you?  You are alone here, we are many."

"Because you don't know your true abilities," the stranger answered.  "And
I'm not alone"

With that, the great entrance to the facility was filled with over a
hundred people.  Many were faces David recognized.  Others were total
strangers.  What surprised him the most was that many of them were holding
children.  There were dozens of the children, and they all ranged from
infants to toddlers no more than four or five years old at the most.

Henry's face fell, even as David felt his stomach hit the floor.  With a
sigh, Henry said, "Men, clean up the mess, it looks like we need to sit
down and talk to these people."


***

The meeting that took place was one that would soon be heard of all over
the world.  It became known as the Shapers' Accord.  However, for the first
few months following the earth-shattering battle which had destroyed almost
every major city in the world, chaos reigned.  It took every man who had
once called themselves 'Psionics' but now called themselves 'Shapers' to
restore order to the world.

By the time they were done, it was clear that they held the reins of power
throughout every land where humans lived.  All together, they totalled over
3,500 people.  Many things were accomplished, and a lot of explanations
were given.

"It's not really what we thought it was," explained Michael Strausser as he
and David were getting some coffee at one point.  "There aren't any real
'disciplines' like we thought.  It's just what the individual is naturally
inclined towards.  Any of us can teleport, throw lightning, or heal.  The
only real limits are what we know, what we are familiar with, and what we
can shape with our minds.  That's why we refer to ourselves as 'Shapers'.

A little later, he was talking to Kelly Cole, and got an explanation about
the kids.  "Would you believe they were breeding them to be their 'loyal'
army?" Kelly said.  "We figured Justy figured it out, too.  After he
disappeared, Strausser and I liberated the kids in Phoenix, then took them
to a safe place with Bjorn's people.  We found enough records there that
we'll be able to find the rest of them.  Can you believe three of them were
his?  I wonder if all three will have the gift."

That was when David decided he'd raise those kids himself, hopefully with
Henry's support.  While they talked in that underground bunker, chaos
reigned above.  News of the destruction of so many cities spread throughout
the world.  For the second time in a decade, life ceased as people had
known it.  Those that still lived in cities fled, or tried to.  The
aftereffects of Justin's chase were almost as bad as the chase itself.

They also learned what had happened to Alan.  He'd found the ship, and it
was full of Bjorn's people.  Sensing they were gifted, he'd approached
cautiously.  When the Shapers on the ship saw him, they tried to hold him,
capture him, but he fought too hard.  He'd died in the fight.  Bjorn had
arrived shortly thereafter, and read the fading memories of Alan.  Then
he'd received a message from Kelly Cole, and teleported to Phoenix.

Kelly trusted Justin to keep his word, as did Strausser.  Both of them
trusted the man a lot, but Bjorn couldn't be that trusting.  This close to
the final steps to unifying all the Shapers for one purpose, one goal
pushed the man.  So he took the form of Alan Mills and followed the trace
of Justin's teleport.

He'd arrived in San Francisco just in time to witness the arrival of the
twins.  He was saddened by the fact that Justin had broken the trust of his
friends, and angered at them for believing it.  He couldn't risk anything
endangering his plans for a unification of all Shapers.  So he struck.  He
meant for all three to die quickly, as painlessly as possible.  Justin's
survival and the events afterward shook him to the core.  He barely escaped
with his life, and didn't know how he'd finally lost the crazed man chasing
him.  He was just glad he did.

By the time the next morning had rolled around, the base was full of
people.  Every last one that had their gift had been reached, and brought
there.  Every exit to the surface was destroyed, leaving the base
inaccessible without their abilities.  The children bred in the US, and in
some other countries as well, were brought there, and taken care of.
(David learned later that four were his own, and 2 more were Henry's.
They'd spend the next few years raising kids, among the other things they
did.)

By the end of that second day, the Shapers' Accords were signed, and the
men moved out into the world to restore order, and bring the Accords to
what remained of human civilization.  In some places they were welcomed,
others opposed.  But regardless of their reception, order was restored
within a few weeks.  By the end of a month, the world was theirs.

***

	These are the Shapers' Accords:

	We have been given abilities beyond those of normal human beings.
We have been entrusted with these abilities, and do vow to use them for the
benefit of all humanity.

	Regardless of previous boundaries between nations, regions shall be
drawn for which Shapers shall assume the responsibility of governance.  At
the determination of the Shapers assigned to the region, governments shall
be allowed among the normal population; however, all such laws shall be
subject to veto or modification by the regional Shapers' Council.

	Shapers shall govern by Council.  All Shapers who have achieved the
age of 18 years shall cast votes for Council Representatives.  Each Region,
totalling 60 in all, will be governed by a Council of not less than 5, but
not more than 9.  Each Council shall appoint a Council Leader who shall
represent the Region at the Grand Council.  The Grand Council will be made
up of the Regional Representatives, and shall appoint a Head Councillor.
The Head Councillor of the Grand Council and Council Leaders for the
Regional Councils shall not vote except in the case of a tie.

	All Shapers shall be governed by their Council.  Reported misuse of
abilities regarding Normals shall be reviewed by the respective Council,
whose decision shall be final, unless overuled by the Grand Council.

	No Shaper shall use their abilities on another Shaper without their
permission.  The penalty for such violation shall be death.  Any such case
will be adjudged by the Grand Council, whose decision is final.

	No normal human being shall cause harm, or allow through inaction,
harm to be caused to a Shaper.  Penalty shall be immediate death upon
determination by any Shaper of guilt.

These Accords did not sit easily on people at first.  In some regions, the
rule of the Shapers pervaded every aspect of life.  In others, their touch
was almost unseen, and the Council was viewed almost as a myth.  However,
their abilities ensured that they were rarely challenged, and never
successfully.

Neither David nor Henry were comfortable with them, but as they were both
selected for the Regional Council of the eastern United States, they felt
they could make more of a difference from the inside, than rebelling.
Besides, they were fairly well outnumbered.

The biggest bump in the road came after the first year of unification.  The
story had spread of the cause of the devastation of so many cities, and
people screamed for justice.  Naturally the story had changed in the
telling.  As it was told by that time, Bjorn (now the Head of the Grand
Council) had been trying to end the evil rule of the zealots in the U.S.

One of their stooges, by the name of Justin Ackeman, found him and chased
him.  The stooge had been strong, but Bjorn was quicker, escaping him time
and again.  Finally Bjorn had led him into a trap, and banished him from
Earth forever.  Most people accepted the story, and the name 'Justin' soon
became very, very unpopular.

Except in a few households, David's being one of them.  As the years
passed, and their children grew, David and Henry decided that when a
certain three were old enough, they'd be told the truth.  Until then, they
claimed all nine children as their own.

David used his abilities to heal.  He visited hospitals, small towns, and
even individual farms all over the Eastern U.S.  Wherever he went, he left
people behind healed, restored to health.  He found that as long there was
a spark of life left, he could bring the person back.  Sometimes it even
made him feel better about having lost Alan, Justin, Jason, and Curtis.

Shortly after they reached thirteen, and puberty was well underway, the
children started showing signs of their abilities.  Late one night, Henry
and Alan were wakened by two of the kids, Tad and Erica.  During the night,
they'd received that message Justin had left them so long ago, and it had
scared them.  That was the night they learned the true story of that
fateful day.

The next month, they had been sent to the Shapers' Academy, as was required
of all kids when their abilities manifested.  There, they met Kelly Cole
and Michael Strausser, two of the teachers.  At their insistence, the
siblings were given the same quarters in the underground base where their
father had lived, and they later found that the quarters had been Justin's.
In the desk, they found a small book that was a small photo album Justin
and the twins had kept.  It soon became their prized possession.

The years sped by, until one day when their curiosity became too much, and
the two begged David to take them to Washington, the last place their
father was known to have been.  They teleported to the edge of the city,
where David and Henry had watched the death of the city.  They had barely
arrived when Justin had emerged from his void.  It took a while, but they
had convinced David to come with them, to the Memorial, where they'd found
him.

***

Justin emerged out of the meld in a state of shock, happy and sad at the
same.  Once more he was alone inside his head, he didn't think he'd ever be
used to it again.  He'd seen the last fifteen years from David's point of
view, had watched his children grow up, including their little brother,
Alan.  Alan, as Justin had known, was not gifted, but he was still loved.

The children had also shared their memories of childhood with them, and of
their training.  It hurt thinking of Michael and Kelly.  Their betrayal had
caused the deaths of Jason and Curtis.  Had led to that dreadful event.

Then the guilt hit him.  How many had died because of him?  Tens of
millions at least.  Love from the children poured into him, and he returned
it.  Looking into their eyes, he knew at last what it meant to be a parent.

As they separated from their hug, he noticed that the sun was starting to
set.  He turned to face his old friend, David, who was still silent.
Looking deep into the man's eyes, and feeling totally lost in the changed
world, he asked, "What now?"

David took a deep breath, then kicked his mind back into gear.  "The kids
have to get back to the base.  They only have leave till sundown."  He
looked at them, and their crestfallen faces.  "And don't let anyone catch
onto what's happened.  It won't do much good for anyone to find out about
Jaz's return."

They both shook their heads, and gave their father a quick hug.  Then they
took a couple of steps back and disappeared.  At that moment, another wave
of dizziness hit Justin and he passed out. He never felt David pick him up,
a look of worry and fear on his face, and never felt the teleport to
David's home.

***

As usual, he woke slowly, drifting up from the edges of sleep, the last
dream he'd had already fading mercifully into the depths of his
subconscious.  Justin stretched his legs out, feeling more refreshed than
he remembered being in a while.  When he didn't feel two more pairs of legs
on either side of him, memory came crashing down on him.

A strangled sob announced his waking to the room.  As he sat up, tightening
his arms uselessly around his rib cage, the lonely silence of his mind
echoed, 'Alone!  Alone!  I'm so ALONE!'  It didn't matter that there were
other people in the room.  He was alone without his lovers.

David, the twin streaks of grey in his dark hair glistening in the soft
moonlight filling the room, rushed out of his chair to circle his arms
around Justin.  The other man in the room also got up, but much more
slowly.  The last 15 years did not appear to have been kind to Henry Sells.
His hair was totally grey, and his powerful frame seemed to have shrunk in
on itself.  If slower than his partner, he too got on the bed and wrapped
his hands around Justin.

"Jaz, baby," he whispered.  "You're not alone.  They're gone, and we all
miss them.  But you're needed here and now.  We need you, your kids need
you."

When Henry mentioned kids, images sprang up from memories that he had been
given, but were not his own.  Two boys and a girl, playing in a downtown
apartment with other children. All three with platinum blond hair and blue
eyes.  The love he felt for them was his own, though, not from someone else
like the memories.

"How long?" he asked through a scratchy and dry throat.

"You've been out of it for two weeks," David said softly.

"Tad and Erica have spent their weekend leave here, waiting for you to wake
up.  It's too bad they aren't here now.  At least they've been able to keep
your return a secret," Henry said into the silence following David's
answer.

"My kids," Justin whispered, his throat returning to normal as he willed it
to.  "I still can't believe it.  But, why am I still here?  Why did I live?
Why do I bother continuing with them gone?"

"Jaz, you know the answer to that as well as we do," Henry said, his voice
firm and demanding.  "Your kids are one reason.  The people are another.
Back in Phoenix, when Strausser and Cole tried to get you to join Bjorn's
quest, you said that it wasn't our place to rule over humanity.  Deep down
you believe in the right of people to choose their own destiny, not to be
ruled by a small group of people."

"Duty," Justin whispered. "You're playing the duty card against me?"

"Of course," David chuckled.  "You believe in Duty, Honor, Loyalty as more
than words.  You believe in them so totally that you know you won't give up
until the mission is done."

A calmness welled up in Justin, drowning the grief for a while.  As the two
men, his old friends, released him and moved back from the bed, he swung
his legs around and stood up.  He was only wearing a pair of white briefs,
and his young skin and short blond hair made him appear to be in his early
20's.  Beside the two men, he appeared positively youthful.  He looked at
them, and their age and wondered why they appeared old while he was still
young. "What's with the gray hair?"

"We feel old," Henry said, his features returning to the younger appearance
Justin was more used to, then switching back to the older appearance.
"Besides, it makes the normals more comfortable if we at least appear to
age."

Nodding at the explanation, and deciding that he would not take part in the
deception, he walked to the great bay windows of the large bedroom he was
in.  The plush carpet under his feet was a comfortable feeling as he looked
out the window at the city below.  The room was in a skyscraper, and
although different, it was obviously New York.  It seemed like half the
tall buildings had been torn down, and acres of farmland dotted the
landscape that had once been all concrete and steel.

Lights twinkled throughout the city, and Justin realized he heard the hum
of a central air system in the apartment.  Turning his head towards the two
men watching him he raised a blond eyebrow and said "Electricity?"

"Yes," David said.  "Some of the more scientific minded folks in the Shaper
ranks figured out how we could use our abilities to harness the fusion
reaction.  We've made a few reactors throughout every major city in the
world.  They provide enough power for civilization to return at a basic
level.  There's even radio again.  No TV though."

"Good," Justin said, turning back into the room, and away from the new city
out there, a strange mixture of 19th and 20th century technologies.  "TV
always did rot the brain.

"So, you said I was needed here.  What is it that you have in mind,
Colonel?" he asked Henry.

"Jaz, son," Henry said, a look of pain on his face.  "That title is dead,
dead for over a decade.  There are no more armies now, unless they are
opposed to the rule of the Shapers' Council.  Even those don't last long
unless they manage to get a rogue Shaper to join them.  Then they just last
a little longer."

"So, resistance is futile, and you expect me to be more successful than an
army?"

"Jaz, don't go there," David warned in a low voice.

"You're not alone, Jaz," Henry explained.  "At first, almost no one in the
Shapers' Councils opposed Bjorn's plan.  Truth be told, almost everyone
embraced it with whole hearts.  David and I didn't like it, but we knew
doing anything about it then would just end up with us dead.

"Since then, dissent among the councils has grown.  Most of the regional
councils in the Americas support returning power to elected governments, or
more precisely, governments elected by ALL the people.  However, most of
the European, Asian, and African councils are firmly in power, and like it
too much to give it up."

"Then there's Bjorn," David said, and regretted it when the fire loomed in
Justin's eyes.  "Jaz, settle down.  Now's the wrong time.  He's still
alive, and firmly entrenched as the Head of the Grand Council.  He
effectively rules the entire world, and believes that he's been placed here
to save mankind from itself."

"So, again, what do you expect me..." Justin began once again, only to be
interrupted by the door being slammed open.

As the door banged against the wall, a smell of stale alcohol and grime
wafted into the room.  The figure in the door, framed by the light of the
hallway, was dressed in a dirty blue t-shirt and even dirtier jeans.  The
reek of alcohol, and a body unwashed for days now filled the room as the
figure swayed a little in drunkenness.

Once Justin's eyes adapted to the light, he realized that he was staring at
a younger reflection of himself, right down to the blond hair and strong
chin.  "Shhoooooo.  Thish is whatch yourrr hiding," the strange youth
slurred.  "Dear old pappy finally comes home."

David rushed towards the young man as Justin stood there, a look of shock
on his face.  "Alan," David said, concern evident in his voice.  "Where
have you been?  Disappearing for two weeks this time!  Pop and I were
worried!"

The kid tried to pull back from David's arms, but only succeeded in falling
to the floor.  As David concentrated for a moment, a silver glow flowed
around the prone figure, washing the chemicals from his blood stream.  "Not
just whiskey, but drugs too, this time.  Henry, dear, he's been like this
since he turned sixteen, and I don't know if he'll make his seventeenth
birthday now."

"Oh my god!" Justin groaned.  "It's my fault too."  He rushed to his son's
side and nearly crushed the kid's head against his chest.  "I didn't think
it'd hurt him!"

"What do you mean?" Henry asked, joining the two in kneeling near the
unconcious young man.

"You know about the memories I left for Erica and Tad?" Justin asked, not
waiting for their nods before continuing.  "Well, I left some for him too.
Except it was keyed for his sixteenth birthday.  I didn't want him to miss
out on knowing his family just because he wasn't gifted."

"You knew?" David asked in a quiet voice.

"Of course, I could feel he didn't have the ability as surely as I felt all
three were my kids."

"That explains a lot," Henry said.  "Let's get him to bed."

***

This time, it was Justin's turn to wait beside the bed for a loved one to
wake.  Sure, his only experience with this young man was when he'd been
little more than a baby, and the drunken kid of a few minutes ago, but he
loved him nonetheless.  The fact that he'd contributed to the poor kid's
troubles only made the knife in his gut hurt more.

As early morning passed into sunrise, and hours ticked by, grief still
swelled in him, but he kept it under control.  He'd been through grief
before, but this time it was harder.  He was no longer used to being alone.
One thing he knew for sure was that just because his great loves were gone,
it didn't mean there weren't other things around worth loving.  Like kids,
his kids.

"Dammit, son, I wish I could go back in time and change things, but I don't
dare risk it," he said, barely a whisper.

"Why don't you?" David's voice from the doorway surprised him.  "When you
shared the nature of our abilities with your little conspiracy, that's the
one thing you insisted on.  Why?"

"You remember the deadly mist and the tear in reality when we faced
Corcoran?" Justin asked, dreading giving voice to thos strange events which
led to his most happy years, and the worst loss of his life.

"Yes," David answered, curiosity drowning his worry.

"I made it when I went back in time," Justin continued, and let the whole
story come out, telling it for the very first time to another being who had
not been there.

"So," David said when he was done.  "If time travel does that, I'm glad
your warning was honored.  Don't worry, he's sleeping things off.  He'll
probably wake late tonight or in the morning.  Why don't you join us for
some lunch?"

"No thanks," Justin mumbled, his eyes returning to the young face so like
his own, "I want to be here when he wakes.  It's bad enough he grew up
without me, I want to be here when he wakes up."

"Ok, then.  We'll leave ya alone," David said softly, closing the door
behind him.  From the way Justin kept repeating 'when he wakes', David knew
the man would have to be forced from the bedside, eventually.

The day passed with Justin barely moving from his son's side.  Instead, he
opened his mind up and cast it around him.  For the first time, he
consciously let himself extend his abilities to their furthest while he
sampled the minds of those in the city below him, and in the country
beyond.  While his normal, human son slept a deep sleep, Justin learned
about this world he had reawakened to.  He felt the minds of what were
obviously the people now called Shapers, and stayed away from them.  But he
let himself see through the eyes of regular humans, sampled their thoughts,
their feelings, and their dreams.

His attention was drawn back to the room he sat in when the figure on the
bed stirred.  Getting up from the chair he was in, Justin sat on the bed,
leaning forward towards the young man who was his son.  As the boy's eyes
opened, he held his breath, praying and dreading what was about to happen.

"It really is you?" the soft voice whispered, as a smile slowly formed on
the face.  "You really came back for me?"

"I'm here for you now, son," Justin said, not wanting to lie directly to
this beautiful smiling young man.  He took the young man into his arms,
covering him a great hug.  "I'm sorry I was gone so long.  If I had known
what you were going through, I'd have come back sooner."  All true,
absolutely.

Sobs shook the young man at Justin's words.  "Dad, you must hate me
after...after..I..uh.."

"Shhhh," Justin whispered smoothly.  "David wiped the drugs out of your
system.  I wasn't here then, and I'm not going to judge you by what you did
before I came back.  You have a clean slate with me.  I love you,
unconditionally.  You're my son."

Justin continued to hold his weeping son, letting the emotions he was
feeling sweep over him.  As love for his son grew, stirring him more and
more, Justin felt a pang of guilt.  His grief for the twins was fading,
being replaced by the love for this, his youngest child.  But he knew they
wouldn't want him to let his grief for them mar the love for his son.

***

The next few weeks passed quietly for Justin.  He never left the large
apartment owned by Henry and David.  He spent the time almost exclusively
with his youngest child.  He learned of the pain the young man felt when he
never manifested abilities like the other seven children raised by Henry
and David.

Justin's experiences growing up a gay child in a straight world helped Alan
come to terms with himself, and his role in the 'family' they all found
themselves a part of.  On the weekends, Erica and Tad returned home on
leave, with David's and Henry's chidlren.  He grew to love them as well,
but his heart belonged to his youngest, Alan (yes, he'd been renamed by
Henry and David in honor of their mutual friend Alan Mills).

While Justin got to know his family, including their five children, Henry
and David set about letting select others know of Justin's return to the
world.  Slowly, they used the weeks to reach out to those they knew shared
their beliefs on the governing of the world.  As the month wore on, a plan
began to take shape to return the world, or at least a part of it, to
self-governance.

As the fourth weekend approached of Justin's stay, he decided he was tired
of staying inside the apartment.  Alan was getting as restless as he was,
and so Justin decided it was time for a field trip.  As soon as his old
friends had left on another trip to meet some more conspirators, Justin
woke Alan and told him to get ready.

An hour later, the two men left the building and walked out into the cold
November morning.  The streets of New York were busy, although not nearly
as crowded as a few decades before.  Again, Justin was shocked by the
strange mixture of technologies.  Horse driven carts, full of foodstuffs or
farm implements, shared the streets with a few electric vehicles.  The
people they passed wore an odd mixture of homespun clothing and
manufactured clothes.

For the two men, one young, the other merely young-looking, the fresh air
was a relief from the recirculated air of the apartment.  They had dressed
warmly, wearing jeans, blue turtlenecks under matching long-sleeved flannel
button-ups.  It seemed so natural to Justin to dress like whoever he was
with that he paid it no mind.  Despite the fact that he was not present in
the back of Justin's head like the twins had been, his son filled most of
the void they had left behind.

For a few hours, they walked around the City, Alan leading Justin around.
He pointed out interesting sights, and some that he liked.  Around noon,
they walked into a small restaurant nestled against another skyscraper.
"It's home to a few Shapers, all of whom are out of town," Alan explained
of the tall building as they entered the restaurant.

The smell of food cooking caused both men's stomachs to rumble as the
proprietor greeted Alan.  "Young master!" the portly man said.  "So good to
see you and your young friend.  I hope he makes you happy."

Laughing, mostly at the man's assumption, only a little tempted to correct
the man that this was his father, not another lover, Alan simply said, "He
does at that, Andie, he's made me happier than I remember being in a long
time."

Justin put his arm around his son, not caring if the proprietor made a
wrong assumption, and added, "I'm the lucky one, sir.  Without him, life
really wouldn't be worth living."

"Glad to hear that the young sir has someone who cares for him at last!"
the proprietor said as he showed them to a private table in a secluded
corner of the restaurant.  There were a fair amount of people at the tables
around them, all ignoring the newest diners, or all seeming to.

As they sat at the table, a handsome waiter appeared with two drinks.  Alan
looked up for a moment, indecision on his face, then said, "No drinks,
Andie.  I don't drink alcohol anymore.  How about some tea?"

Shock appeared on the man's face.  It was soon replaced by a big smile and
he slapped Justin's shoulder, "You ARE a good influence, young sir.  You
keep him good, and if you hurt him, you have ME to answer to."

"Don't worry," Justin assured him, liking the man even more, "I love him
more than you can imagine."

The proprietor wandered off, talking to some more customers, and the waiter
reappeared with some ice tea for the two.  They ordered a hearty lunch, and
sat at the table staring at each other for a while.

"Dad," Alan said after they were alone, "Thank you so much.  These last few
weeks really mean a lot to me.  I didn't know how to fit in when I was the
only one without abilities, but your loving me the way you do makes that
seem to be no big deal."

"It isn't, son.  You, you yourself are very important to me.  If it wasn't
for you, I don't think life could feel this good, without..them."

A sad moment passed between them, as the grief welled up in Justin.  Seeing
it on his face, Alan reached across the table, putting his hand atop his
father's, the young man let his love show, supporting Justin in every
important way.  The moment was interrupted by a different waiter bringing
food to the table.  As the man set the food on the table, Justin was
disturbed by a feeling of impending doom.

"I thought so," the waiter said after setting Justin's plate down, brushing
against Justin's arm.  The man stepped back for a moment, as the two seated
men looked up at him.  The air behind Alan swirled, and a man appeared
behind Justin's son, dragging him up, hand locked around Alan's throat.

"Justin Ackeman, you are under arrest for Treason," the waiter said as his
features blurred into a more familiar face.

Justin stood, knocking his chair away.  Before he could do anything, the
man holding Alan tightened his grip in obvious threat.  Turning to the
waiter, whose features had blurred and reformed, he realized he knew the
man.

"Don't even think about it," Eddie Zindel said.  "You're a sentimentalist,
Jaz.  I know you, you trained me years ago.  Come quietly and no one gets
hurt.  We don't know how you managed to return, or to get in contact with
your son without Sells or Baxter knowing, but it's over now."

Sighing in defeat, Justin decided that it was not time for a fight yet.  At
his nod, his old student Eddie formed an image of a room in a strange city
in the air between them.  "This is your destination, Mr. Ackeman.  You will
teleport yourself there, and surrender to the people waiting there.  The
young man will remain in protective custody so long as you remain so."

Sighing, Justin looked over at his son, who was now struggling against his
captor.  Shaking his head, he mouthed "I love you" and teleported himself
to the destination he was shown by his former student.  He wasn't surprised
to find several men there.

They were all dressed in white pants and electric blue tunics, the official
Shapers' uniform.  Over the cupped earth symbol on their chest there was a
symbol of weighted scales, the ages-old sign of justice.  One of the men
stepped forward and said, "Justin Ackeman, Lieutenant Commander of the Navy
of the former United States, you are hereby placed under arrest for Treason
against the Shapers' Accords, namely the attemped murder of Grand
Councillor Bjorn, and the murder of sixty-two million, three hundred and
ninety-four thousand, eight hundred and two normals. In addition you will
be charged for being indirectly responsible for the death of another 200
million people in the chaos which followed your attempt to murder
Councillor Bjorn."  Finished, he motioned for Justin to follow him.

Worried about his son, Justin allowed the men to lead him away into a small
room.  At least it didn't have any bars.

***

Several days passed, and Justin had no contact with anyone except the guard
who dropped food off a few times a day.  Finally, something different
happened when the guard who had spoken to him before appeared through the
open door.  In his arms he carried a uniform.

Justin stared at the Navy dress blues.  The stripes of a Lieutenant
Commander adorned both sleeves, and all the correct medals and ribbons were
on the chest.  The guard had a cold expression on his face as he set the
uniform on the small bed which was the room's only furniture.

"It is time for your trial.  Get dressed," was all he said as he turned and
left the room, standing just outside, obviously waiting.

Sighing, not sure what else to do, Justin got dressed in the uniform.  A
brief moment of concentration ensured that he looked, and smelled, as if he
had taken an hour getting ready for what was to come.  As soon as he was
done, the man nodded and led him down a hallway.

The plain hall led to another, more ornate hallway.  After a few minutes,
he was led to a pair of gilded great doors, flanked by men dressed just
like his guard.  Pausing outside the door, the man turned back to him and
spoke once more.

"Any use of your abilities inside this room is forbidden.  All that will
result is the deaths of your last living relatives."  With that said, the
man made a small motion and the great doors were opened.  Beyond them lay a
large room.  At the far end of the room was a small dais, with one chair on
it.  To each side of the dais were two long, ornate tables running
perpendicular to the dais.  Halfway along the tables, mid-distance between
them, and facing the dais was something that resembled a British witness
box.

Justin walked along the room, looking at the men seated at the tables on
either side.  There were thirty seated at each table, all dressed exactly
as David had been, all with the sunburst above the cupped earth symbol on
each chest.  Determinedly, he did not look at the man seated in the chair
on the dais.  As he stepped into the box, a sigh escaped many lips, and he
was forced to look at the man on the dais, who now stood.

Time had not touched Bjorn either.  His long, platinum blond hair glinted
in the sunlight streaming through high windows.  The blue of his tunic
showed off his silver eyes wonderfully.  If the man hadn't been responsible
for the death of his loves, Justin might have admitted he was handsome.

"We are convened today on a matter most serious," Bjorn's melodic voice
rang in the chamber.  "In respect of the fact that this matter before us
impacts not only us as Shapers, but all of the people we seek to protect,
we are broadcasting this session on all radio channels throughout the
world.  The expense in power is supported by members of the Shapers' Energy
Division, and will not be charged to those choosing to listen.  Today, the
world will learn that Shapers' justice applies to everyone, including our
fellow Shapers."

As he finished, he sat down in his chair and motioned towards the tables.
One man stood at each table and walked in front of the dais.  Both bowed
low to Bjorn, then the man on the left spoke.

After Bjorn's beautiful voice, this man's seemed harsh.  He was shorter,
and appeared well into his forties.  A strong accent made his English seem
odd, but was clearly understandable.

"Fifteen years ago, this man, this Shaper now standing there in the uniform
of a long-dead nation, visited upon this planet death greater than any it
had ever known before.  His reason?  Irrational hatred of our great leader,
Bjorn.  In his rage and desire to avenge the death of his bedmates,
millions of our people died.  Today justice will be done for his crimes."

As the second man began to tell of the events leading to the twins' death,
Justin struggled to keep his anger under control.  Obviously this was a
sham trial, which would end with his execution.  But the question for him
was, would he allow himself to be killed without a fight?

Looking around the room, barely paying attention to the man speaking, not
wanting to remember the death of California which was now being told, he
recognized one of the men still sitting at the tables on the left.  It was
David.  David's attention was focused on the speakers, earnestly ignoring
Justin.

An hour passed as the two men, now alternating, told of Justin's chasing
Bjorn, and the deaths of so many.  Again, rage and grief swelled in Justin,
but was tempered by love and concern for his children.  Any action or word
by him could kill them, and that he would not do.

As the story wound down, ending with the purported 'imprisoning' of him by
Bjorn, he looked once more at David, when all eyes were on the man seated
on the dais.  David stared at him and mouthed one word.  The word was
'Safe'.

With that one word, not even vocalized, Justin felt a tingling rise
throughout his body.  His fingers trembled slightly as energy roared
through him.  Rage boiled in him, but he fought it to a slow simmer.
Unlike last time he'd tried to kill Bjorn, this time his brain was
thinking.

"Thank you," Bjorn spoke at last, rising from his throne-like chair.
"Though it saddens me to have to remember that dreadful day, it was
necessary so that the world would know the crimes of this man.  While I
sought to unite our planet, and lead us out of the despair our former
leaders caused, he did his best to destroy what we had left. Now.."

"Justice will be done," Justin said, his voice a low counterpoint to
Bjorn's.

"The prisoner will be SILENT!" Bjorn shouted.

"No, I will not," Justin answered, his voice a dead calm.  "You killed
them.  They were not bedmates, not playmates.  They were my loves.  We were
joined, mind-to-mind.  When they died, a part of my mind was ripped out,
and what was left was in so much pain it knew only one thing.

"You were responsible.  You speak of noble causes, but you struck without
warning.  While they hugged me, giving comfort, you reached out with
lightning and ripped them from me."

"NO!  You broke your word, just as you are doing now.  You will pay for it
before you die," Bjorn stormed, stalking down the dais, towards Justin.  At
the tables, all the men seated there were standing now, shock apparent on
many faces, uncertainty on all of them.

"The only word I gave is that which would keep you from killing my
children.  You can only rule through fear and threats of harm.  These, and
many other actions of you and your 'COUNCIL' have proven that you are no
better than the men you replaced."

Bjorn's only answer was a bolt of lightning.  The lightning shattered the
wooden box he was standing in, but didn't touch Justin.  A shield didn't
surround him, the lightning just disappeared before it touched him.  Chaos
reigned at the tables as half the men tried to help Bjorn, while the others
moved to stop them.  Justin didn't notice it.  He only had sight for one
thing, Bjorn.

As he had before, Bjorn chose to run.  Justin chose to follow.  This time
it was different.  When Justin appeared in the Tower of London, it was
Bjorn who ignited a firestorm to kill him.  Nearly a million people lived
in London until that moment.  The storm raged around the city, burning it
to the ground, while Justin walked towards Bjorn as if on a Sunday stroll.
When he got close enough to touch the man, Bjorn disappeared.

Time and again, Bjorn ran.  Sometimes to a city, sometimes to deserted
farmland.  The peak of Everest was forever shattered as he sought to blast
Justin away.  It failed.  Finally he disappeared to the place he had hidden
from the first time.  It stumped Justin again, he could not find the man.

Justin went back to the room from where Bjorn had ruled, he somehow knew
that it was somewhere in Sweden, even if he didn't know where.  As he
appeared in the Grand Hall, he found it in far different condition than
when he left.  The Hall was no longer standing.  It had been blasted open
to the sun, and daylight.  There were bodies all around, including at least
ten wearing the uniform of Shapers.  One lone figure stood there, David.
Soot streaked his uniform, but his hair was a solid black, and the age
lines were gone.  The David Baxter Justin had known years ago had returned.

"Jaz!" the man shouted, running and taking Justin into a great bear hug.
"Did you get him?"

"NO!" Justin shouted, frustration roaring in his voice, and the ground
slipped under him as his anger slipped a little.

"Whoa!  Keep it under control, brother.  We managed to kill about ten of
the bastards, while only losing two of our own.  We've pulled back our
people to the American continents, and they've pulled back to Europe, Asia,
and Africa.  The Shapers down in Australia and New Zealand have declared
themselves neutral.  We need to get back home ASAP, before those over here
come back and take a look."

"My kids?"

"Safe in an underground bunker, not the Center.  Right now, Bjorn's allies
are leaderless.  They aren't going to attack us, but we need to get them
before they can come up with a plan.  We caught them flatfooted."

"You go, David.  It seems like any plans I make are too long-range.
Someone always comes in and steals the march on me.  I'm gonna hunt Bjorn."

"Are you sure?" David asked, staring deep in Justin's eyes.

"Give Alan, Erica, and Tad my love."

"I will.  Find the bastard and gut him.  I miss Curtis and Jason too,"
David said before disappearing.

Justin stood there for a moment, and searched again for Bjorn.  The man's
presence could not be found anywhere.  As Justin searched, he reached his
mind around the world, hunting for that long familiar mental signature.
Frustration grew as he didn't find it.

No matter how far his search around the world went, he couldn't find the
man.  As he jumped over and over, searching for the target, his frustration
grew more intense.  Sitting on a hill, looking out at a harbor in New
Zealand, he gave voice to his frustration in a long wail filled with rage,
pain, and loss.

Searching around the world was useless.  The man had succeeded in hiding
again.  At least Alan and the other kids were safe underground.  Then
something occurred to him.  Searching AROUND the world was useless.  What
about BELOW the surface?

Casting his mind deep under the surface, Justin resumed his hunt.  He
laughed when his search lasted only a few minutes before he found his
target.  His rage boiling once again, Justin concentrated for a moment and
joined his target deep underground.

Heat!  Heat buffeted Justin, but he ignored it.  With his mind refusing to
acknowledge that anything could harm him, the intense heat didn't touch
him.  His clothes flash fired, even the medals on his chest turned to
liquid in seconds.  The molten metal dribbled down his bare chest, totally
unnoticed.  If he'd had to breathe, this pocket cave, deep in the Earth's
core would have been his death.  There was no air, only a small, nearly
empty cavern on the edge of a molten lake.

Fortunately, his abilities precluded the need for air, even as they
protected his body from the heat.  Standing before him, staring at the
great molten lake, his target stood.  The man's back was to him, and Justin
approached, until he was close enough to reach out and touch the man.

'It's so beautiful,' Bjorn's mind said to Justin.  'The primal beauty of
our home.  No other person has seen this place, this forge of creation.
Would it be so bad, taking your place on the Council, helping to lead the
sheep that crawl on the surface?'

'The very fact that you view them as sheep makes my answer all the more
certain,' Justin answered, his emotions causing turmoil to roil within him.

'Maybe a better word exists, but I use the words I know.  We can be their
shepherds, protecting them.'

'Like a parent raises a child?'

Bjorn spun around, his eyes glittering with tears.  'EXACTLY!  We need to
be their parents, forever guiding their steps, protecting them from the
wrong choices they make!'

'We are not gods,' Justin thought to the man.  'Even parents must let their
children go eventually.  The people up on the surface aren't sheep, or
children needing to be led around on apron strings.  They must be allowed
to make their own choices, their own mistakes.'  It was amazing to him, but
all of Justin's burning rage had turned to ice, leaving only one clear path
for him to follow.

'Why?  When we can guide them, nurture them, protect them,' Bjorn's
thoughts reflected the waves of fear he was feeling.

'To do otherwise is to make the same mistakes of so many others.  Give me
liberty or give me death, the history books say.  I'm actually sorry, but
you cannot live.'  As Justin thought his last sentence, he reached out with
both hands, grabbed the man's neck and started to squeeze.  As Bjorn felt
his throat being squeezed, the molten lake behind him erupted, and the
earth shook.

Justin ignored it, just as he ignored the ground shaking around him.  His
only thought was on his hands squeezing the life out of this man in front
of him.  His mind reached out at the same time, squeezing the mind of
Bjorn, just as Justin's hands were squeezing the man's throat.

The shaking grew worse, as Bjorn approached physical and mental death.
After what seemed like hours, the man gave one last mental scream, his neck
and mind snapped, and the cave collapsed around the two men as the earth
gave another great heave.  Miles above them, the ground shook like it never
had before.

Continental plates shifted, new volcanoes raged up, and old lands were
destroyed by lava or overrun by tidal waves wrecking everything in their
path.  As the ground shook beneath them, people fled, desperate for life.
Others cried out to their many Gods, praying for deliverance.  No matter
what they did, though, it didn't matter.  They still died.

As Bjorn's body was consumed by magma, forever gone from the world, Justin
felt the tremors begin anew.  Feeling weaker than ever before, he collapsed
under the weight of crushing rock, and ignored the magma pouring over him
while he wept one last time for his lost loves.

Within hours, the earth was forever changed, and those few millions that
survived knew nothing would ever be the same.  By the time the tremors
stopped a few days later, 3/4 of the earth's population were dead..over
three billion people had joined Bjorn in death.