Date: Sun, 20 Jan 2002 01:10:43 -0700
From: kirkjr2 <kirkjr2@cox.net>
Subject: Wreckers Chapter 9

Wreckers Chapter 9 -- Then We Sought A Balance


They were avenged.  For the longest time, that was the only thought that
mattered.  The memories of the blasted bodies of his two loves were now
replaced by that precious image of their last morning together, waking in
bed.  A sense of peace pervaded Justin Ackeman's entire being, and he was
happy, if only for a little while.

But, as with all things, the memory ended, and Justin tried to reorient
himself with the world around him.  As the memory faded, it was replaced by
blackness.  Not the mental void he had found himself in earlier, but total
darkness.  He also discovered that he couldn't move.  He was tired, but
something else held him back from being able to move.

Searching for a cause to his paralysis, Justin sought the memories of what
had happened before he blacked out. Bjorn's body had fallen, lifeless, from
his hands.  The cave had collapsed around them, and his last sight had been
Bjorn's body being consumed by lava flowing into the cave.  Lava!  When it
cooled, it became rock.  Of course, the lava must have receded, leaving him
trapped in rock!

Easy enough to solve, Justin concentrated for a moment, thinking of New
York, and the apartment there.  With a flicker of his will, he teleported
himself there...or tried to.  Nothing happened.  Fear welled in him before
he crushed it.  Why couldn't he teleport to New York?

Two answers came to mind -- first that he'd lost his ability, or burned it
out.  He dismissed it out of hand.  If he'd lost his abilities, he'd be
dead, encased in this rock.  The second, and more difficult one, was that
New York was no longer there.  He couldn't teleport to a place that no
longer existed.

Calming his thoughts, he tried again for Phoenix, with failure his only
reward.  London, St. Louis, Nashville, Montreal, Mexico City, no matter
where he tried, he didn't move.  The fear inside him was almost
overpowering now, and he knew that if he gave in to it, he'd die.  Calming
himself without being able to take a deep breath, or any breath for that
matter, was not easy, but he managed.

Finally, he gave up on teleporting anywhere he knew on Earth, but what
about somewhere else?  He'd already proven to himself that intense heat,
tons of rock, and magma itself couldn't hurt him, so why should the vacuum
of space?  Carefully, he formed an image of the surface of the moon in his
mind, set firmly into his mind that the vacuum of space wouldn't cause him
any discomfort, then...he jumped.

The blackness of being trapped inside rock replaced itself with another
blackness.  This time punctuated by dots of light, shimmering brighter than
any night sky on Earth.  His bare feet felt the ancient coldness of the
moon's dusty surface swirled around his feet as he hopped around the Sea of
Tranquility.  Behind him were the 60 year old remains of man-made relics of
humanity's first visit to this celestial body.

Justin was still nude, and could claim to be the first human to walk the
surface of the moon without a few hundred pounds of clothing and equipment
on him.  The light gravity made his little hops effortless, and for a
while, he lost himself to the joy of exploring this lonely, gray moon.
Forgotten were the troubles of the past, the pain, the loss, the memories
of others.  He was fifteen years old again, and all he cared about was that
his dream of walking on the moon was being fulfilled!

So entranced was he, that he didn't realize he'd grown a few inches
shorter, and his body had lost much of the definition it had shown.  His
hair grew longer and curled around his ears, with a small ponytail being
braided down the back, its end barely touching his shoulder blades.  While
his hair grew longer, and more platinum blond, his eyes shone a brilliant
blue for the first time in a while, and a wide smile lit his face when he
picked up a small rock and threw it so high it disappeared around the
horizon.

The happiness came to an abrupt halt when a planet began to appear over the
horizon.  He knew it should have been a ball of blue, with brownish/green
land masses visible, but it wasn't.  It looked like clouds covered most of
it, and what water he could see was more green than blue.  What little land
he could see was darker than he thought it should be as well.

The sight brought him back to reality, and the fact that something was
horribly wrong on that little planet that was his home.  More memory came
flooding back.  `MY KIDS!' roared through his mind, and he cast out with
his mind to the planet so far away, searching for them.  He couldn't find
them, so he bent down, picked up a small rock in his hand to remember this
moment, and willed himself down to the planet, at one of the few spots of
land he could see from here.

As he appeared on a blasted mountainside, Justin finally saw first hand
what his fight with Bjorn had resulted in.  Below him, what had once most
likely been a fairly large city was now a graveyard filled with rubble.  He
stood on what had once been a road, looking down at the carnage, and tears
streaked down his face.  He took a deep breath (not remembering he hadn't
breathed in hours, and probably didn't need to now), and started coughing
since it was filled with an acrid smell of hot sulfur.  He felt like he was
spinning, and weariness hit him like a rock.  As he collapsed, he thought
he could hear voices coming up the road from the direction of the now dead
city.

***

"Boy, get a blanket over him," the gruff voice said.  On the edge of
consciousness, but so tired and weak he was unable to respond, Justin tried
to come fully awake but couldn't.  As he faded back into sleep, he was
dimly aware of a blanket being thrown around him, and strong hands lifting
him off the ground.

Again consciousness drew near him, and he could hear voices conversing
quietly.  "Boy, do you think he's gonna make it?" said the same gruff
voice.

"I don't know, Father.  He might.  He's pretty strong, but it feels like
he's exhausted himself.  I was only in training for a few months before you
got me out of there."

"You didn't think I'd leave my only son in the den of vipers, did ya?
Besides, you belong here with me, doing the Lord's work.  If you're right,
and he's another boy like you, he might be useful.  He looks young enough
that I don't think he be unrecoverable.  We might be able to save his soul
like we did yours."

"Thanks, sir.  I'll keep watch on him and call if there's any change."

"That's a good boy.  We'd better get moving.  Sitting here don't get us
much closer to where we're goin'."

The floor under Justin jiggled a little, like it was a vehicle.  Some
whistles in the distance sounded off and the floor rocked like it was in
motion.  Dizziness made his head spin and washed him into the gentle
blackness.

***

Thirst raked his throat, and a throbbing in his head greeted Justin back to
consciousness.  It felt like every cell in his body cried out with
weariness, but he was coming back awake now.  He felt another presence
nearby, and it felt him.

"Father!" the young voice he'd heard earlier called out, "he's comin'
around now."

"It's about time!" the gruff voice said from somewhere nearby.  "Two damn
weeks he slept like a babe.  I was just about to cut off his water ration
since we started running low." As the man finished his sentence, Justin
felt the vehicle he was in lurch with the man's weight climbing aboard.

Justin opened his eyes and found himself in a history lesson.  He was in
what was obviously a covered wagon, straight out of the Wild West.
Kneeling next to him was a young kid, about 14.  The boy's dark bangs
flopped over his eyes as he leaned over, putting his arms behind Justin's
shoulder to help him to a sitting position.  The boy was dressed oddly.
His dark jacket, wide brimmed hat, and white shirt reminded Justin of
something, but he couldn't pin it down.

When he was in a sitting position, the owner of the gruff voice came into
his view.  The man was older, appearing to be in his late fifties.  His
stocky frame was covered in clothing similar to the boy's, but he had a
long white beard which seemed to frame his craggy face with dignity.
Seeing Justin was definitely awake, the man harumphed, and spoke.

"Welcome back from the edges of death, young man.  The Good Book exhorts us
to help strangers in need, and I'm pleased that you are awake. What's your
name?"

"Ju, J..stan" Justin's throat was parched, and his voice unintelligible
from the dryness.  The boy next to him pulled a leather bottle out from
somewhere and lifted it to his lips, letting warm water pour down his
throat.

"J'Stan?" the old man questioned, a frown on his face.  "That's no
Christian name I've ever heard before."

His throat moistened by the water, Justin realized that the stories spread
about him might make his name somewhat unpopular with many people, and a
little circumspection might be in order.  "Thank you," he said to the boy,
then turned back to the older man.

"Sir, my parents originally gave me another name, but, well, everyone heard
stories and, um, well, it's not exactly a good name to have anymore."

"No doubt, no doubt.  I think I understand, young man.  When we found you,
you were alone.  What happened to your parents?"

"They, they're dead, sir.  They died a while back and I've been on my own
ever since then.  After, after the quakes, well, things got a little rough
for me and I haven't been able to find any of my surviving family.  I guess
I overdid it a bit."

Sympathy touched the man's craggy features and he knelt down beside Justin.
"Well, J'Stan, you might wish to thank God that we found you. I doubt you
would have survived without help, and we had a run in with some bad people
after we found you. If they'd found ya, they might not have been so
generous."

With the man's talk of God and such, combined with the man's clothing,
Justin placed where he'd seen it before.  Mennonite, or maybe Amish.
Definitely religious, very religious.  He was still too weak to set out on
his own, and something was compelling him to stay.  Which meant he had to
try to fit in.

"Thank you for your kindness, sir.  I've heard the story of the Good
Samaritan, and I can understand now how the man felt when he was rescued."

The old man's features went blank in surprise and he raised an eyebrow at
the young man.  "Your parents did a good job raising you, young man.  At
least you're polite and have heard something of the Good Book."

"They always felt it was important for me to learn the Bible, sir, and to
be polite to others."

"Well, I'm doubly glad to have picked ya up, boy.  You've got two choices
as I see it.  If you don't want to travel with us, you can set out on your
own.  We'll let ya keep the clothes you're wearing now, and give ya a
waterskin.  Your other choice is to come with us."

"Where we heading, sir?"

"Already decided, eh?  I appreciate a man able to make his decisions
quickly, especially when I think they're the right ones.

"We are a good, God-fearing community of people.  We follow God's laws as
he set them down."  Placing his hand on the boy's shoulder, he puffed up
with a little pride, but something else riding underneath the pride. "This
is my boy, Adam.  He will teach you of what you need to know, and help you
keep out of trouble.  He's a good boy now, and will help you out.  As for
where we're heading, why, the Promised Land!"

As he finished, he turned and jumped out of the wagon, leaving him alone
with the boy.  Seeing that Justin could now sit up on his own, Adam rocked
back on his heels and rested against the side of the wagon, staring at him
with an odd look on his face.  Justin summoned just enough strength to
reach out with his mind and brush the boy's.  He was gifted.

"I was a trainee," Adam began without any prompting.  "They'd caught me a
few months before the quakes and sent me to the training center. My first
leave came and I chose to go home, I missed my family. At first, Father
didn't want anything to do with me, but then he relented.  When it was time
to go back, he rescued me from the instructors who'd come to pick me up.
We started packin' up to move out when the tremors began.  I don't know
what I did, but somehow I saved the wagons and our people.  He was awful
proud of me.  Ever since then he's been working to cast out the bad parts
while lettin' me use my powers to help, and he's kept it secret from the
others."

"Oh," was all Justin could think to say.

"J'Stan.  That's not your real name," Adam said, certainty in his voice.
"I have to tell Father if you lie, but you didn't really lie.  You just
told him parts of the truth.  You look my age, but I don't think you are,
are you?"

For a moment, Justin thought of how to respond, then decided on the truth,
or at least some it. "No, I'm older.  But I never was trained as a Shaper.
You might say that I was out of reach for a while."

"I KNEW it!" Adam breathed, barely audible but with force. "You feel
familiar, like this guy I knew.  He gave me my basic orientation when I
first arrived.  He was a senior student, his parents were on the Eastern
Americas Council.  You feel similar to him."

"What was his name?" Justin asked, knowing he really shouldn't, but drawn
to.

"Tad.  His sister was Erica. Do you know them?"

"Yes, they're family," Justin said, not sure where this would lead.

"Great!  I really liked Tad.  He was sooo nice to me when I got there.
Made me feel good. Um, don't tell Father I said that, please?  I'm not
supposed to think good thoughts about anyone there.  Especially him.  Dad
said Erica was ok, but not Tad.  That makes the evil thoughts come."  The
excitement that had first shown on Adam's face turned into trepidation and
fear at the last.

"Don't worry, Adam, I won't say anything.  I think I understand what kind
of thoughts you're talking about," Justin said, the respect he had started
to feel for the kid's dad fading into sorrow at that age-old problem
between gay children and religious parents.

"Do you need something to eat?  We're on short rations but I think we can
find something, especially if you can help out like I do.  We can't do
anything obvious enough to make the rest of the people suspicious, but we
can do things that Father will pass off as another miracle from God."

"Thanks, but I don't really need to eat.  The water was more than enough.
Speaking of which, did I hear that water's a problem?"

"Yeah, we haven't found drinkable water in days, and the barrels are
starting to run low."

"How about we make a deal here, between the two of us?"

"What kind of deal?" Adam said, concern in his voice.

"Nothing that I don't think is fair and legitimate, Adam.  Just this, you
won't share private information about me with anyone else here, I won't
share anything you tell me.  If you think something will cause harm to your
family, or anyone in the group, you can tell them anything you want.  I
also promise to never lie to your Father, and to help out all I can.  In
return, you help me learn the ways of your Father and this group.  Okay?"

"I decide if something is dangerous?" Adam asked quietly.

"Yes, you decide.  I trust you."

"Agreed then," Adam said with certainty, reaching his hand out, and shaking
to seal the deal.

The next few days passed quietly for Justin.  He spent most of the time in
the wagon with Adam.  They left only a few times for the evening prayer
service conducted each night before dinner was ready.  During these
services, he got to know the rest of Adam's family.  Sarah was the wife of
Father (no one ever said the man's first name, everyone called him Father
or Father Morgan).  A no-nonsense woman, she nevertheless welcomed Justin
warmly, treating him like another son.  Adam was their only child, but
there were plenty others in the group.  All together, they totaled 30
families, each with at least one kid, most with more.

Of the children, Adam and Justin were the oldest (and since the two let the
others assume Justin was his age, no one really doubted he was other than a
well behaved boy.).  Most of the other children ranged in age from 12 on
down to toddlers.  At nights after prayer and dinner, the two boys
'supervised' the younger kids, and Justin realized that he enjoyed being
younger again.  At night the two slept under the wagon, with the rest of
their family resting inside.  Small tarps over the side gave them a little
privacy, but the sleeping parents above ruled out verbal conversations.

It was two days before Justin's abilities returned to a level where he
could use them for more than a few moments. It seemed that he'd drained
whatever powered his abilities to near nothingness.  Maybe there were some
limits on what he could do after all.  By the end of the fourth day, he
decided he was up to a mental conversation with his new friend. After
they'd played with the younger children for a while, then ushered them off
to beds, the two made their way under the wagon and crawled into their
separate blankets.  After the tarps were down for a little privacy, Justin
rolled onto his side and looked over at Adam, who was watching him.

'Adam, what is this promised land your Dad is taking us to?'

'I don't know, J'Stan,' Adam said.  Justin had never told him his real
name, and Adam had decided to not pursue it.

'Well, at least we were able to fill the water barrels today.  That should
help some.  I'm worried about the food supply.  It doesn't look like too
many animals survived the cataclysm..'

'Armageddon,' Adam interrupted.

'Sorry, Armageddon,' Justin sent, still careful of the boy's steadfastness
in the faith of his father. 'If we don't find a food source soon, things
could get ugly.'

'Do you think we'll be able to pull a miracle off that would satisfy the
group and keep us from being revealed?'

'Hmmm...I don't know.  Maybe, if things got really bad we could pull off
Loaves and Fishes type miracle.  Have your dad break bread into pieces and
hand it out, then refill the basket of bread each time.  I'm getting
stronger again and should be able to keep it up for a bit, and you're
coming along pretty well too.'

'Thanks.  Your teaching me really helps too.  It's so different from what
they taught at the school.  There they put all this mumbo jumbo in it, and
tried to make it seem like it was a divine right. You don't think that way.
You," Adam paused and Justin could see a slight blush in the boy's face,
"You actually don't think of the others as being inferior.  Even Tad had a
hint of that kind of thinking in him.  He just acted naturally superior.
You don't.  And the way you play with the kids, it's like you aren't really
older than you look. You like playing too much to be a real adult.'

Justin almost let himself laugh aloud at that, but didn't want to wake the
parents above them (they'd almost come to feel like parents - especially
the lecture from Father Morgan on fornication, and the evils of
homo-sex-u-ality as he pronounced it).  'I had a friend, well, to me it was
just a little while ago.  Old Alan was 60 when he learned he could change
his form.  He turned himself into a teenager and spent weeks running around
playing.  He told me that he'd missed his time as a kid and was just
enjoying it too much to be an adult for a while. I guess I'm feeling the
same way now.'

"Dear Lord God," Adam whispered into the night. Then continued mentally, at
a shout, 'YOU'RE HIM!  YOU'RE JUSTIN!  Tad told me about Alan Mills,
and..ah..ah about you.  The real story.  But you're supposed to be dead!'

In the dimness, Justin could tell that Adam's face had gone totally white.
Concern filled him, he didn't want to cause this boy any harm, and he still
wasn't strong enough to do much.  'Adam, please.  Don't be afraid'

'Afraid?  I'm not afraid,' Adam's mind voice said. 'I'm just surprised is
all.  Tad told me you were a good person, and wouldn't have liked the way
things were going.  I've seen how you feel about my family, and the group,
you aren't like most of the others I met.  Tell me what happened, and how
you came back.'

So, Justin reached out to the boy, and shared his memories of all that had
happened, from the mission where he'd faced the traitor Corcoran to when
he'd killed Bjorn in the cavern far below the surface of the Earth.  When
he was done, Adam just laid back in his blankets for a while.  Justin began
to be worried, until he felt a thought come from him.

'How could a love like that be evil?'

'Love?' Justin asked, bewildered at the question.

'The love you had with Curtis and Jason.  It was so real, so deep.  How
could something like that be evil?'

'I don't believe it was evil,' Justin replied after a moment's
thought. It'd been ages since he'd had this discussion with someone, and he
liked it less than he had the last time.

'But the Bible, but Father, says that it is.' Adam's thoughts were weak,
and seemed to be boiling over.

'The Bible says a lot of things, Adam.  We have to decide for ourselves
what to accept and not accept.  Your Father is a good man, but even good
men can make mistakes.  Trust me on that one.  You can disagree with him,
without having disrespected him.  You have to make your own choices
eventually in life.'

'What about God?'

'Don't know.  Never met him. Until I do, I've lived by the principle of
trying to do good by people I meet.'

'How's killing millions of people while hunting down a murderer helping?'
Damn, the kid loved to jump from topic to topic.

Pain lanced through Justin at that memory, but he faced it as a part of his
life that he'd have to deal with forever.  'It didn't help.  That's what
happens when you let yourself be ruled by emotions. Don't get me wrong,
emotions are good.  But emotions are also powerful. I had repressed my
emotions, kept myself from feeling things.  Then I let them out of the
bottle with the twins. When the twins were gone, I lost control.  Losing
control at that moment is probably the worst thing I have ever done.'

'What about Bjorn?  If what happened here happened all over the world,
there's got to be more than a few million dead.'

'If what I saw from the moon is any indication, I'd guess billions.  But,
that was Bjorn.  Not me.'

'But aren't you responsible?  I mean it was you chasing him that did it.'

'You familiar with policemen?' Justin asked, searching for a way to explain
what he felt and believed.

'Yes, there were some back in the town we lived in.  Father said they were
decent men, even if they answered to Shapers.  There was even a robbery
once that they stopped.  The robbers had guns, but the police shot them
dead.'

'Let me ask you a what-if question here,' Justin responded, glad for the
opening he didn't expect, ' What if those robbers had taken a hostage, and
before the police could stop them, had killed that hostage.  After the
hostage was dead, the police then killed the robber.  Do you blame the
policeman for the death of the hostage?'

'No,' Adam answered after a long pause for thought.  'The robber shot the
hostage, not the cop.'

'But, if the policeman hadn't been there, they wouldn't have shot the
hostage.'

'Okie, but then they'd have gotten away, and the cop wouldn't have been
doing his duty.'

'Bjorn had to be stopped.  Of all the people with our abilities, I was the
only one with a chance of stopping him.  What should I have done?'

Understanding lit the boy's face, then sympathy.  'You still feel
responsible, don't you?'

"Yes," Justin whispered, pain in his voice, conscience demanding
utterance. Tears for the dead streaked his face and Adam reached over and
squeezed his hand in comfort. 'I always will feel responsible no matter how
many times I or anyone else says otherwise.  Looking back, with hindsight,
there were probably other ways I could have achieved the goal of killing
Bjorn.  But what's done is done, and can't be changed.'

'Why? Why can't you go back in time and fix things?'

'I did it once, to bring the twins and my family back to life.  My sister
died anyway, and a few years later, so did the twins.  Maybe we can change
time for a few years, but I don't think it'll let us change it for more
than a few years.  Also, something happened when I did it.  It felt like I
had made a tear in reality.  If we hadn't been able to stop it, it would
have kept growing until nothing was left.  It was hard to close as it was,
and was like a rip in your shirt that is sewn up.  It's fixed, but still
there, a weak point.  If it happened again, who'd know what would happen.'

'Oh,' was all Adam said.  His eyes were closing in exhaustion, and Justin
laid back down, seeking sleep himself.  Adam still held his hand, and it
felt good.

***

More weeks had passed as the wagon train made its way through several
mountain passes.  The geography had changed so much little was
recognizable.  As time went by, Justin began to realize what Father Morgan
was searching for.  Arable land.  Nothing they passed through could support
as many people as they had here.  The further they traveled, the more the
food supplies dwindled.  As the food supplies dwindled, so did the
available breeding stock to make new food.

During those weeks he grew closer and closer to Adam, and was glad of the
kid's company.  Father Morgan even seemed to become more friendly as they
traveled.  It didn't hurt that they'd found ways to stretch food supplies,
make water, fix wagon wheels, even one time fixed a broken axle before
anyone realized it was broken.  With that, Father Morgan was extremely
thankful, and praised them in private, even mentioning their work as
helping to earn their salvation.  Justin had kept from snorting, but
barely.

It was late one night, and they were both asleep under the wagon as usual.
Ever since that first night of conversation, they'd gone to sleep holding
hands, and that made Justin feel a lot more comfortable.  During the
nightly conversation, and training, the two were close, and Justin had
taken to entering a light rapport with the boy to train him.  This rapport
had some side effects, one of which really concerned him.  He'd grown to
love the boy, much like he loved his son Alan, but the boy didn't return
that affection.  It was worse. Adam had a full fledged crush on him.
Between the fact that Justin discouraged it (he was over 50 now!) because
of the kid's age, and his father's beliefs on the evil of that love, Adam
was being torn in two emotionally.

Too tired to continue the mental wrangling on how to solve the personal
problems with Adam, he let his mind drift off to sleep.  A dream came
almost immediately.  He could hear Erica and Tad calling his name over and
over through a black void.  He could also hear other voices calling him,
but they were more faint.  Indecision gripped him, but he wiped it away and
called out their names, hoping they'd hear.  With a snap, they appeared in
front of him in the void.

When they saw him, they cried out in joy and wrapped him in a hug.  Their
minds touched his and showed him a small green valley, with makeshift
buildings dotting it in a neat and orderly fashion.  He understood, this
was where they were.

He woke with a start, nearly hitting his head on the floor of the wagon.
Without a second of thought, he pictured that valley in his mind, and
jumped.  His kids were alive!

In the makeshift village, it was early morning, the sky just beginning to
lighten with the coming dawn.  A door opened in the nearest building, and
three figures ran from the door towards him.  The lead figure, Erica, was
dressed in nothing but a white shift.  The other two were only clad in
white briefs.  As his three kids wrapped their arms around him, crying with
joy, Justin collapsed in joy, home at last.

***

"I like the longer hair, Dad.  But I don't like the fact that I look older
than you," Alan said, once they were all comfortable inside the house.

In the front room, all of the extended family was sitting down, all waiting
to hear Justin's story.  Henry and David sat on a couch, with all five of
their children either on the couch with them, or on the floor in front
(their children were all boys, and all were 18, soon going on 19).  Justin
sat on the room's other couch, with Alan and Erica beside him, and Tad
sitting on the floor at his feet.

Justin chuckled at his youngest son's comments, and purposely made sure his
physical appearance stayed that of a fourteen year old.  It was fun to joke
around like that.  "I just don't feel like growing back up yet, son.  Your
namesake taught me that."

Everyone in the room laughed gently.  They'd all heard the story as kids
and loved hearing about the irascible old man Alan had been named for.
But, neither Henry or David would let Justin off so easily.  They knew him
better than anyone else still alive, and knew when he was trying to stall.

"Well, since we founded this little place with the few survivors we could
find, looking old has not been something that seemed wise.  We need all the
strong backs we can get to keep things together," Henry said (he looked
once more the handsome man in his early thirties as Justin had met him).

"I'm just happy we were able to save as many as we were," David said.  "One
minute we're getting ready for a counterattack from the European and Asian
groups, the next the world was falling apart.  Jaz, baby, I'm sorry but
you're gonna have to tell us what happened."

Taking a deep breath, Justin launched into the story of his finding Bjorn,
the man's death, his own awakening, the trip to the moon, and the last
weeks in the wagon train.  When he was done, he also told them something he
had only realized when he kept feeling the spurts of pain every time
someone said 'Jaz'.  "Justin Ackeman died in that cave, along with most of
the world.  He's dead as surely as if I had never made it out.  From now
on, I want to be known as J'Stan.  I don't think I could bear the constant
reminders of things if I continued with that name."

Alan's young face took on a hurt look, and his eyes had pain in it like the
first time he'd met the boy.  "You..you don't want us anymore?" he
stuttered, on the edge of tears.

Shocked, J'Stan wrapped his youngest son in his arms, and let the tears
flow once more. "Of course I do, Son.  I love you and I'll never stop
loving any of you kids. It's only that my old name has too much pain
associated with it.  Changing my name doesn't have anything to do with you
three.  In fact, I'd say that you three are the main reason I didn't just
let myself die out there on the moon.  It would've been real easy, but when
I saw Earth come over the horizon, I knew I had to go back and find you.
It's just that I was too weak to find y'all.  It took me weeks to get
strong enough again, and I'm still weak."

"I love you, Dad," Alan said simply, echoed by Erica and Tad.  "As long as
you're not leaving us."

"Never, Son, never, Erica and Tad," J'Stan assured them

As the four of them comforted each other, Henry and David looked on, tears
in their eyes, hands locked together.  Just before the silence became
unbearable, the man they now called J'Stan looked up, smiled at them and
their kids, and said, "Looks like y'all are going to have to fill me in
again on what's happened while I was gone.  That's something that's going
to have to change soon too.  I hate having to be filled in."

Everyone laughed feebly, while David took the role of filling him in.
"Well, a little and a lot has happened.  After I left you in Stockholm, I
went back to the bunker where we were hiding the kids.  Most of the people
that had joined our rebellion were there, or were out checking on cities
under our control.  When the tremors started, we thought it was some type
of attack from the others.  We set up a shield on the room, and it's a good
thing we did too."

"The bunker," Henry interjected, "was right next to a geological
convergence, which erupted into a full blown volcano during your fight.  If
we hadn't been there, everyone in the base would have been killed."

"As it was, we lost some people," David continued.  "We had the same
problem teleporting that you did.  Finally, Alan came up with an idea, and
talked about it with Erica and Tad.  Those two got the rest of the kids
together and melted their way through the surface.  Once they got there,
they could teleport back in and, with all of our help, we got everyone in
the base out."

The three kids around J'Stan blushed at that, but he looked at them
proudly.  Sure, he hadn't done much to raise them, but he was still proud.

"After a lot of searching, we realized that except where enough of us were
present, pretty much everything was destroyed.  We tried finding you for a
few days, but none of us could.  Then we realized that our food supplies
from the base wouldn't last forever."

"There's one thing I've learned from the fight with Bjorn," Justin
interrupted.  "We don't really need food.  I haven't eaten in over a month
and I don't feel the need.  I mean, I could if I wanted to, but I don't
need to.  Water either.  Even at my weakest point, that wasn't necessary
although it did help to orient me a little."

"Yeah, we found pretty much the same thing when a bunch of us stopped
eating to save food for the normals," said John, Henry's dark haired oldest
son.

"I don't like that word, young man," Henry scolded gently. "It implies too
much of a separation between us and the rest of our people."

"Anyways, none of the Shapers in our group have eaten in the last three
weeks," David said, returning to the subject. "But, everyone else here does
need to eat.  Most of them are military type people, and have very little
experience farming.  Add to that to the fact that we have little seed stock
and farming is rough.  We've been able to shape much of the land around
here so it is suitable for farming, but without something to grow, it's
almost useless."

Immediately the image of Father Morgan's wagons, loaded with everything
necessary to start farming, came to J'Stan's mind.  There was only one
problem, the man's beliefs would clash with the people here, and he
seriously doubted the man would consent to go back to living with heathen
Shapers.  But, something had to be tried, besides he found himself actually
liking the man.

"What have you done about running this place?" he asked his old friends,
hoping for some good news.

He got it.

"Just what we all talked about during those weeks in the apartment,
J'Stan," David said.

"We had a big meeting about two weeks ago.  Would you believe Alan was the
person who actually ran it?" Henry said, making Alan blush.

"Well, then, I think my son ought to tell me about it since he ran it,"
J'Stan said, feeling pride swell once more.

"It was a little hard at first," Alan said, his voice starting soft, but
growing in strength as he continued.  "At first, everyone was just happy to
be alive.  I spent a lot of time with most of them since I didn't have the
ability to do what the others were doing.  But every night I'd go back and
stay with my family like we always did.

"Once things got settled a little, and everyone had shelter, I was meeting
with the people who were leading the groups without abilities.  There was a
lot of talk about this being their fault and that we shouldn't be letting
them stay around. There was also a lot of resentment from the way the
Shapers' Accords had been thrust on everyone, and many were afraid that it
would happen again.

"But, they were puzzled by something and that was the only reason no one
had taken action yet.  They were confused about my role in our family, and
why I would spend all day with with the normals but go home every night to
a bunch of Shapers.  They thought I was being dumped on or something, but I
always acted excited to go home and see my family and that didn't fit with
the way they thought things were."

Alan's gentle laugh filled the room for a moment, then he continued.  "They
were surprised as hell when I told them how I was treated as an equal by
the family, and encouraged to do the things I was good at, not pine away
after the things I couldn't do.  I must have talked to them for hours past
dark when Papa David came in.  Everyone was scared at first of him, but
then he just said, 'Ah, you are ok, Alan.  We were worried about you when
you didn't come home as usual.  Don't let me stop your visiting with
friends, we'll leave some dinner for you when you do get home,' then he
turned and just walked out!"

Shaking his head a little at the memory, Alan looked over at David and
smiled.  "For some reason, that convinced everyone that what I'd been
saying was true.  Then they asked me if there could be a meeting to talk
about how the village would be run.  They wanted me to do it since they
trusted me, and felt the Shapers here would trust me as well.  Hell, half
them are in my extended family so they thought I'd make a good go-between."

"And he has been," Henry interjected.  "He ran that meeting real well, and
the things that were decided there have really helped things stay calm."

"So, how about telling me what was decided?" J'Stan said, and everyone
laughed.

"Easy," Alan said.  "For now, until things get stable, we are one big
family, whether Shaper or not.  Everyone chips in with their best effort
and work at doing things to help the entire community.  People who
repeatedly don't work get punishment like no food, or isolation for a
Shaper.  Those who continue to resist will be expelled, but so far no one
has even come close. There's a Village Council which was elected at the
meeting.  Anyone is eligible for it, and everyone over 16 votes for it.
Everyone's equal, has one vote, etc.  The Council picks a Mayor.  If the
Village doesn't like a decision, they can call for a meeting of the entire
Village and have a vote taken (it takes more than a small group to call the
meeting, but we haven't even had someone try to yet.).

"Further, we drew up a Bill of Rights kinda like the old U.S. But it's a
lot simpler.  There are two of them.  One is that no rule or law shall be
made which abrogates the right of an individual to lead their life in a way
that does not harm others.  That includes who they sleep with, what god
they pray to, all that stuff.  It doesn't protect people who would rape or
murder someone, even if they claim it was their religious right.  Two is
that all members of the community are equal in importance, and equal in
their rights.  No law shall be made which puts any group above that of the
others."

"So far," Henry said, "it has worked pretty well.  There have only been a
limited number of laws passed by the Council, mostly dealing with rights of
ownership and distribution of food and work.  However, the food situation
is becoming critical since the food we make with our abilities is not as
nutritious as real food."

"Then I might have a solution to two problems," J'Stan said, smiling at his
son.  "Father Morgan, and his people.  Well, let's just say I can't help
myself to like them. He has that damn conviction about gay people being
evil, but other than that I think he really is a good person.  His group
won't survive.  I was working on a plan to scout ahead of them and make
some land arable, like you've done here, but wasn't strong enough yet to do
it.  I'm still not."

"I remember his son, Adam," Tad said quietly.  "He's a good kid, really
kind and caring about others.  He had a lot of the same prejudices from his
father, but he was really starting to turn into a good trainee.  I remember
feeling worried when they finally gave him his first leave and he chose to
go home, but didn't say anything."

"Yes," said Erica. "When we got the word from David to head to the hiding
place, I'd just heard that he hadn't returned and they were sending two
Guardians to go get him.  I wanted to do something, but I couldn't without
risking everything else that was going on.  At least the two they sent
weren't good people.  I'm actually glad they're no longer around."

"Erica, that's not a nice thing to say, but an understandable one," J'Stan
chided his daughter gently.  "Now here's what I'm thinking.  We really
should get as many people together in one place.  It's safer for them.
However, Father Morgan and his group won't want to 'join' the community we
have here totally. But I think that I might be able to convince them to
settle near here, on land that totally belongs to them, and we can trade
with them.

"In return for arable land, they provide the village with basic seed stock,
some breeding livestock when they get enough bred, and other sundries that
they may have to share.  I think we'll also be able to work out some other
deals.  For instance, his punishment for most things that we would object
to is banishment.  If someone decided he didn't want to live by their
rules, or was gay, Father Morgan will banish him."

"And our village will have a new member," Erica said with conviction.

"Exactly," J'Stan confirmed.  "We'll probably also have to work out
hundreds of little details, but the basic plan is a good one."

"I don't like it," Henry said.  "I don't like helping out a bigot who can't
accept people for who they are, or would cast someone out because of who he
loves."

"Henry, I don't like that side of the man, either," J'Stan answered in a
firm voice. "But Tolerance means more to me than people accepting ME.  It
means that I have to accept things about THEM I don't like.  In this case,
it means that I have to accept his dislike of me and people like me."

"I said I don't like, not that I can't accept it," Henry said, a little
miffed.  "Alan, this is a big decision.  We'll have to have you take it to
the Council and see if they agree to it.  We might even want to have a
Village Vote on it, like we did when we set things up."

"Yeah, Dad.  Everyone will have to vote on this, it's a pretty big
decision," Alan agreed.

"Ok by me.  But there's a little problem," J'Stan said, looking out the
window to see the sun now over new mountains in the east.  "I've been here
a few hours, if they wake up and I'm not there, we are not going to earn
their trust.  I have to go back and continue with them."

"I thought you might say that when you stayed looking young," David said.

"It's ok, Dad," Erica said. "We know you'll come back to us."

"I told all three of you that, didn't I?" J'Stan said, looking at his three
children. "I meant it.  I'm so proud of all three of you.  Each of you are
becoming good leaders, and you've made me proud.  Give me a shout when
you've reached a decision."  With tears threatening, J'Stan concentrated
for a moment and disappeared from the couch without bothering to stand up.

***

'Where were you?!' Adam shouted mentally as soon as he reappeared, lying
flat on his blankets (if he'd reappeared sitting up, he'd have hit his head
on the wagon floor).

'My family reached me last night,' J'Stan answered calmly.

'So, now that he is recovered, the great Justin Ackeman is leaving us to be
with his precious family?' Adam sent, pain and scorn in his voice.  In the
early morning twilight, J'Stan could see the pain on Adam's face, and the
young man's chin quivering.

'No, J'Stan is staying for a while with the good people who saved his
life,' he responded, reaching out to hold that quivering chin. 'I'm going
to need to speak to Father Morgan before we break camp today.  I learned
something on my trip that might help everyone out. I promise you, I won't
leave you or the rest of this group unless I have no choice.'

Relief flooded Adam's face, and his chin stopped quivering.  'Okie.  If you
say it, I believe you.'

'There's one thing though.  When I spoke with my family tonight, I knew
that I had changed, that I was no longer the person I had been, nor do I
want to constantly keep reminding people of the past whenever they said my
name.  From this point on, Justin Ackeman is dead.  I am J'Stan now.'

A smile stretched Adam's face and he leaned into J'Stan, giving him a hug.
When J'Stan pulled back a little he sent, 'I don't care what father
thinks.'

'I do,' J'Stan replied, still keeping the conversation non-verbal.  'As
long as we are traveling with him, we live by his rules.' He'd use Father
Morgan's opinions to keep the young man cool for a while.  As for later,
when they reached the village (if they reached it), he'd find some other
way to let him down easily.

"BOYS!" Father Morgans gruff voice called out in the early morning. "Let's
get this group moving!  We've got a lot of ground to cover today"

Hurriedly, the two cleaned up their blankets and came out from under the
wagon and started the now familiar routine of getting things ready for
moving out.  Once the scouts were out, horses and mules hitched, and
everything ready to head out, breakfast was served.  Eating with Father
Morgan's family, J'Stan tried to think of how to have the discussion with
the man in private.

Father Morgan solved it for him when they'd finished the light meal (J'Stan
hadn't really eaten, just made it look like he had.  Later, Adam and he
would give the food to the younger children).  "J'Stan, I'd like you to
join me this morning in some scouting.  Do you think you're up to a
horseback ride?"

"Yes, sir.  I would love to," he answered, pleased, and a little nervous at
the turn of events.

As the final preparations were made to move out, and the first set of
scouts returned, J'Stan joined Father Morgan on a pair of horses, and the
two took off.  Once the wagons had not been visible for a while, Father
Morgan reined in his horse and turned to face J'Stan.  Both men were armed
with rifles slung in saddlebows, and the weapons remained there.

As J'Stan halted his horse in front of the man, Father Morgan spoke, "Young
man, I must say that I am fairly happy with the work you have contributed
since you've recovered, but we still need to talk."

"Thank you, sir," J'Stan answered cautiously.

"There's a lot we've spoken about, and a lot we've ignored.  I'm sorry, but
we can't ignore some things anymore.  First off, Adam's told me that you've
never lied to me, but that you've sometimes held things back.  I can
understand that, and it's not really a sin.  But, first things first,
what's your real age?"

"Sir, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but there's a couple of ways to
answer that and be absolutely truthful in both situations.  Do you mean how
many years have passed since I was born, or do you mean how many years have
I lived?"

The look Father Morgan gave him was a comic struggle between curiosity and
anger.  Finally he said "Both."

"Well, then, as near as I can tell it's been 56 years since I was born, and
I have lived through 41 of them."

"Either way, that makes you near the same age as me.  Why the deception?"
Morgan's tone was cold now, and J'Stan knew it was thin ice he danced on.

"At first it was inadvertent.  My control isn't always perfect, and before
you found me I was remembering a happy dream I had as a kid.  I was tired
and my body changed to how I looked at that age.  It stayed even when I was
unconscious.  After I woke up, any changes would have been hard for me, or
you, to explain and I didn't want to repay your kindness that way."

"Still, son," Morgan said, voice still cool, "I don't appreciate being
deceived like that.  Did you believe it was really necessary?"

J'Stan looked the man in the eyes for a few moments, then answered
truthfully, "At first, yes.  I was too weak to defend myself if you reacted
badly.  Now, well, let's just say that I've come to respect and care for
you, even if I don't agree with you."

"Son, I still worry about your eternal soul, but I have come to care for
you too.  The question still remains, what do we do with you?"

"I have an idea of how I can help you out, sir," J'Stan began, seizing the
chance. "But it will require your support and cooperation."

"What's the idea?" Father Morgan said, some trepidation creeping into his
voice.

"My family, and friends, have actually set up a settlement.  As near as
anyone can tell, there's no land anywhere fit for farming or
habitation. They've been able to make some land habitable, and fit for
farming.  The only problem is, they don't have seed or livestock."

"Which we have, but no land to use it on," Father Morgan said, "I am not
sure it's a good idea, son.  I killed a couple of 'em when I took my boy
back, and I don't exactly like the idea of living under Shaper thumbs
again."

J'Stan shook his head a little and looked the man right in the eye.
"Father, the men you killed weren't exactly friends of ours. Neither Henry
or David supported the formation of the Shapers' Council or the Shapers'
Accords. They realized that their opposition would have done nothing at the
beginning, so they worked in secret.  The settlement the're at is not run
by them.  It's run by a village council elected by all the people living
there."

"So everyone is equal?"

"Yes, sir.  But I don't think you or your people would really want to be a
part of the community there. Your beliefs, and those of most of the
community there now would conflict."

"What do you have in mind then?" Morgan asked, hesitantly.

"Simple enough.  Right now, David, Henry, and their kids are 'shaping' some
land for you and your people.  I promise you, sir, that this land will be
good for farming, and your people will be able to thrive there.  It's real
close to the settlement, just a few miles away.  That means that you'll get
to trade with them, and they'll be able to help you out when needed.  I
think it's a win-win situation, if you're willing to trust me."

"That's a mighty fine offer, son, but what do they want in return?"

"Starter seed, breeding livestock when you can spare some, help farming,
neighborly stuff.  In return, you get the land, and help when you need it."

"What about how we live our lives, our faith?"

"That's a little more touchy subject.  There are certain areas, certain
crimes, where both sides will be in agreement.  Rape, murder, theft, are
crimes for both groups.  Other things aren't.  I've been with you for a
little while now, and I've gotten familiar with your ways, sir.  When
someone breaks the rules which aren't in agreement with the settlement's,
what happens to those people now?"

"Banishment.  We send them on their way, no longer welcome back."

"Where they'll find a nice new home in the settlement with us.  Unless
they're murderers, rapists, thieves, or others like that.  If you are
neighborly enough to let us know which are which, we'll make sure those get
shown the settlement's gates as well.  Otherwise, we'll take the others and
give them a chance in our community."

"What if someone from your side wants to join us?"

"That's their choice, sir.  If someone prefers your way of life, they can
ask your leave to join you. It's between you and them."

"I'll have to put it to the group."

"Of course, sir."

"Will you come back with me to answer questions?  I'd like to do it tonight
when we stop for the night, give me some time to think about it."

"No problem, my family expects me to stay with you for at least another
day.  They know that the time with you has done me some good.  In fact,
that's an idea you might want to explore.  I feel like I've been on retreat
here.  It's helped remind me of some things I've forgotten over the last
few years."

"What, letting people come into our settlement for a retreat?  If we did
that, they'd have to follow OUR rules." Father Morgan harrumphed.

"It wouldn't be worth it if you didn't, sir," J'Stan answered, a soft
chuckle escaping him.  Father Morgan just shook his head, smiling a little
as he led his horse back towards the direction the wagons should be.  The
two men rode in silence, each thinking about possibilities of what lay
ahead.

J'Stan wondered at the way he was feeling.  While he didn't exactly feel
happy, like he had before..they died...he did feel content.  At least that
was the word closest to describe how he felt.  After the pain and hurt of
the last few months, it was nice to feel that way.  Relaxing in the saddle
of the gentle mare he was riding (he still was not used to riding horses),
he allowed himself to enjoy the feelings of contentment.

As they topped a small hill, they could see Father Morgan's followers
ahead.  The long wagon train was flanked by outriders, several of whom
spotted the two and waved.  The feeling of contentment J'Stan was enjoying
vanished when he felt something stirring. He was too far away for his
shouted warning to be heard, and too weak to do anything as lightning
appeared out of the clear sky towards the wagons moving below.

He nearly fainted in relief when a glowing shield appeared around all the
wagons just in time to stop them.  Spurring his horse on, J'Stan moved
towards the wagons as fast as the mare could carry him.  He ignored the
shouted questions from Father Morgan, but the man was soon riding next to
him.

"Who's doing this?"  the outraged man shouted.

"I DON'T KNOW!" J'Stan shouted as the two men raced for the shield now
protecting the wagons.  Under that shield, the men and women were circling
the wagons, preparing themselves for the next attack.  J'Stan and Father
Morgan were racing their horses towards them, but had covered less than
half the distance when the air in front of J'stan's mare swirled.

The mare splayed her legs, coming to a stop, then reared and pawed the air,
unseating him.  The fall knocked the breath out of him, and he could only
stare as the mare bolted off. The tall figure that had appeared was dressed
in the white and blue uniform that had been adopted by the Shapers.  It was
marred suddenly by a sharp boom and the head of the man exploded.  J'Stan
sprang to his feet and looked behind him, where Father Morgan sat on his
horse, rifle just being lowered.

"Brace!" the man yelled as he kicked his horse towards J'Stan, leaning
over, arm extended.  When the man reached him, J'Stan reached out, grabbed
the arm and swung up behind him.  A quick thought formed a smaller shield
around them as they raced towards the wagons.

"Can we get through the shield?" Morgan asked his passenger.

"We should," J'Stan said, sending his thoughts out to Adam. "I taught Adam
how to make it, and he should recognize me when we reach it."

"If we make it through this, I might just forgive you for seducing him."

"Seducing him?" J'Stan exclaimed.  "I haven't seduced him!  He's just a
kid."

"You might not have seduced him physically, but you've definitely undone
the good I've been trying to do."

"With all due respect, this is not the time for this discussion, sir!"
J'Stan shouted as they reached the barrier.

Fortunately, Adam did recognize them and let them through the barrier he
had erected.  The young man was standing in the middle of the circled
wagons, sweat running down his face.  His black hair was limp with the
sweat, and every muscle in his body seemed to be trembling with exhaustion.
Father Morgan led the horse between two wagons and didn't stop until they
were next to his son.  J'Stan slid down the horse's lathered side while
Morgan dismounted.  Both of them reached the boy just as he collapsed to
his knees.

"Son," Father Morgan said, voice wavering as he grabbed the boy's left arm.

"Adam," J'Stan got through his tightening throat as he grabbed the boy's
right arm. "Can you hold on?"

"Not, not sure," Adam breathed, barely audible.  "They're just pushing
against it now, feels like four or five of 'em."

"I'll get help," J'Stan said as he focused his thoughts back towards the
settlement, and his daughter. He was blocked though, by something unseen.
He pushed hard, pushed so hard that he collapsed to his knees himself, but
still couldn't break through.  The last thing he heard was a groan from
Adam as the barrier fell, and he was knocked unconscious by some unseen
force.

To be continued.