PZA: XY-N 5-8a

The transport ship raided and destroyed, the Mutant gangs swell their ranks into a small army and begin the journey back to Shar's underground home. Something goes terribly wrong, however, when Xyn falls ill after befriending the small Orphaned Tym. Jayk, in his attempt save Xyn, discovers a horrible secret about himself and inadvertently places not only his own life, but Xyn's in danger as well.

Now he comes, the human child
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand
For the world's more full of weeping
Than he can understand.
paraphrased – Yeats and Dr. Know, "AI".

"The night is hot, but nothin's gonna stop This game goin' wild."
– Roger Daltrey

Xyn lay on his back in the tall, cool grass staring up at the intensely deep blue sky. There were occasional puffy, white clouds to break up the monotony, but not nearly enough to be threatening. The sun was warm on his body. He could not remember where he had placed his Suit, but he really didn't care. For the moment, it was enough to just be there alone, staring up at the sky and sometimes glancing down at the water of the vast lake just at the edge of the grass. He was wondering what the white sand might feel like under his bare feet when another thought came to him : Am I staring up at the sky, or am I looking down at the lake?

Both were the same soothing shade of blue. Both were broken a bit – the sky by clouds, the lake by ripples. All in all, he found it perplexing. Yet the little one didn't move, didn't speak aloud. He was safe there, he knew, and he had no intentions of leaving. He didn't want to be out on the streets again in the world, all alone, or with the strange ones in the Ruins of what used to be a civilization. He didn't want to be hungry. He didn't want to tired. He didn't want to be hunted. He just wanted to lay in the grass and BE.

Yet he didn't really remember those things. He wasn't hungry. He felt good. He didn't really think that anyone hated him. But all of these things were foremost in his mind, and try as he might, he couldn't make sense of them. He was sure that they had all happened at one time or another, and he was also sure that he'd once been well fed, cared for and loved. The two ideas couldn't exist together – it made no sense. Still, he was sure of it all.

And so he lay there, watching the sky fade from a cobalt blue to a duller blue stained with oranges and reds and yellows. He watched it turn purple and maroon, then black with small specks of white here and there all above him. Or below him. He couldn't decide. If he looked down, he saw the same colors. If he looked up, nothing changed. This was all he thought about as he closed his eyes and sighed, a smile on his perfect face. He scratched absently at his bald head and wondered if he shouldn't have a blanket or something to cover his nakedness while he slept. He could feel sleep coming, but he couldn't quite place the reason why he shouldn't sleep naked out in the tall grass with the cool breeze blowing over him. It felt too good to care, and since and he didn't care, he slept.

"What's wrong with him?" Jayk asked Shar, trying to keep the pleading out of his voice. He and Chriss had managed to half drag, half walk Xyn only a few blocks before Tym had returned with her and the man with the artificial eye. Jayk had decided that he didn't care for him much, or Chriss either, for that matter.

He watched as Shar gently laid her hands upon Xyn's head, where his hair had grown out to almost ¼ inch [6 mm]. Oddly, Jayk realized that that was the longest that the little Bio's hair had ever been in his life – and he wasn't really 'there' to realize it. He was suddenly very aware of his own long braids, and found that he didn't remember the last time he'd had a haircut. It was one of those Facility things, Jayk knew. The depilatory cream, the schooling, along with everything else that he had learned from Xyn. He also wondered how many other things were changing for Xyn, the hair notwithstanding. And he wondered what that short growth of hair felt like.

Jayk watched anxiously as Shar probed. He couldn't 'feel' it, of course, but one look at Chriss told Jayk that the weakly Psionic Pyro was 'watching' them. 'Feeling' what Shar was doing. He was also holding Xyn close to his own body, radiating heat as Pyros did, keeping him warm. It was a while until the heat of the day would set in, and he had said that Xyn was in shock and needed to be kept warm. I could have kept him warm myself, Jayk thought. Still, Shar worked. Then a look that Jayk had never seen before crossed her face, and she shook her head. The mass of black curls that hid her shoulders shook out behind her, and there was definitely something mystical about her posture. Jayk realized that she was beautiful. Of course, as a complete eunuch, this meant nothing to him, but he realized it all the same with a strange pang of what he thought might be regret. And for the first time in all the years that the little Slow Mutant had known her, Jayk realized that she was confused. That thought sent a chill down his spine. Shar always knew what she was doing.

Finally, when Xyn almost fell over, she released her grip on his temples and sighed deeply. She turned to Jayk, and the look in her dark eyes spoke volumes. "Well?" the man with the artificial eye asked in a rough tone. No one had told them his name as of yet. Jayk gave serious thoughts to violence right about then. He didn't like the tone at all. Shar turned away. "I do not know, Jayk. Xyn's body is here, but his Mind is not. It is as if he has left, moved out of the house and found another, leaving behind only empty rooms."

"You cannot. Even I cannot," Shar replied in a hushed tone, "But I have heard of other Psions so powerful and so disciplined that they can. However, I believe that our Xyn has discovered this power by accident, and that he may not know how to return. OR, he has simply willed himself into this condition by conscious choice, hiding so that he cannot be hurt – and that he doesn't want to come back. I should have seen this coming and taken steps when he reached his Psi all the way to the bridge to your group," she said to the gruff man.

Shar sighed, then in a tone as if she were speaking to a very little one, she said, "Xyn is a very powerful up and coming young Psion. He may even rival me someday. This is very disturbing. The fact that he could 'feel' you all on the bridge speaks highly of his talents."

The large man looked at him, his false eye glittering and unblinking. "We leave him. We have cargo to carry, and no time to waste on him, or any others for that matter who might fall behind. He's not really one of us, even if he is psionic. He's a Runaway Bio."

"He's a Facility brat," the man replied flatly, "and a hindrance in his condition."

Jayk snarled, an animal-like sound. He felt itchy all over, and his brain seemed to explode into irrational rage.

Chriss and Shar both 'felt' it coming. Chriss pulled the inert form of Xyn away as Shar leaped between Jayk and the man, but not before Jayk had let out a horrible growl of rage and fallen into an attack posture. His fangs had lengthened, and his body had hunched down, giving his already longer than normal arms an even longer reach. His hands were like claws, and his skin had turned pale red. His eyes had turned totally black, and spittle dripped from his razor sharp fangs. He shook his head once, and sprang, another animal-like snarl of rage being the only warning. Shar had moved fast to get out of his direct way, but not fast enough. He brushed past her, not knocking her back, but more like bouncing off of her as she tried to physically stop him. Jayk didn't realize her plan in that move, but he was past the point of caring. Past the point of reasoning. Almost all that remained was animal-like reflex. She touched him once.

In an instant Jayk was upon him. His long arms closed around the man's ribs, and although he was – in physical essence – a little one, Jayk was also a Mutant. He wrapped those arms around his enemy's ribs and squeezed. His legs caught him at the waist, wrapping around to kick at the small of his back as well. Taken by surprise, the large man didn't react quickly. Instead, he seemed to be scanning Jayk with his unblinking artificial eye. And that was his mistake – taking time to evaluate his attacker which he considered nothing more than a bothersome little XY. For all of the surprise of his attack, the crush of his impossibly strong embrace and the kicks of his heels in the man's kidneys, it was Jayk's shining fangs that did the most damage.

Even as he sprang, some tiny part of him was screaming. Some part with a bit of logic still left intact was saying, They told you this could happen, you could go berserk. They thought you'd evolve into a Nightstalker, but you didn't, you don't have the eyes for it. You're a Beast, they said you might be, that you'd change. You're a eunuch, and so what Chriss says makes you all that much more dangerous. Stop, Jayk, don't do this to another Outcast… In all of his long, strange Cycles of Slow growth, Jayk had never done it. He had never gone berserk. Until then. And he did not care. The tiny part of logic was drowned by two words – Leave him.

Jayk's snarl of hatred didn't decrease in volume as he sank those fangs into his foe's neck, the words still burning in his brain, Leave him… he's not one of us… He could feel Shar trying to take control of him, feel her pounding at his Mind. Finally realizing his danger, the man slammed a very meaty open-palmed hand up into Jayk's crotch, thinking that the pain would loosen the little one's grip and that he could throw him off over his head.

Jayk resisted the effort, and sank his fangs in deeper. His hands sank into the flesh of his enemy's back, tearing through his garment as if it were nothing.

"STOP!" Shar screamed at him, both verbally and mentally, but Jayk would not. He could not. He twisted his head, and with a sudden jerk of his neck he pulled back. His fangs tore out the man's larynx and a huge length of his jugular vein. Blood gushed into his mouth, over his face. He felt the warm slipperiness of torn tissues in his mouth, and the taste of salt. Blood flooded his vision, staining the world red, and then he could see nothing. His eyes burned. Jayk felt hands upon him, Minds slipping into his. He fought, but he could not resist them. Their touch on his skin was slippery, and everything he saw was red. Still howling with fury, he felt someone else grab his arms, another his waist. And then Shar was fully inside of his Mind, going where she had never dared to go before. Even in the blackest depths of his depression when she had tried to help him, she had never brought the full force of her Will down upon Jayk.

Her Will struck, and Jayk froze. It was not physically painful, for there was no tissue damage. But his Mind was crying. He was hurt by the 'force' of her attack, as well as the fact that she had attacked him in this manner in the first place. Xyn was the only one who had ever touched him in the deepest corners of his tormented Mind, and it was Xyn that Jayk cried out to when the 'pain' hit him. It seared through his very being, and he choked. His body stiffened, and his awareness froze as Shar 'gripped' him. He felt betrayed, even violated. The physical pain that his old Master had inflicted upon him so very long ago was nothing compared to the pain that Shar brought to his Mind.

Someone was holding him, and wiping his face. Someone was turning his head, making him look.

Before him on the ground was the big man laying in a pool of blood. It trickled from his ruined throat, his heart no longer pumping it out in spurts. Jayk tasted it in his mouth. He looked up and saw so many of the others staring at him, their faces pale and many of them shaking. Even more had fled. He glanced back down at the one who would have had him leave his friend, and saw that the artificial eye had gone dark. The blood ran away from them, forming an almost black rivulet that led to the debris choked gutter. Jayk felt them releasing him, and that no one was in his Mind. He felt Shar slip out, and he 'felt' her anguish. But whether it was anguish for him, for the man, or for what she had been forced to do to him, Jayk couldn't tell. All he could do was stare at the wreckage of what had been, until only seconds before, a living, breathing fellow Outcast. As Shar slipped out, Jayk felt something go out with her.

He heard a small gasp, and turned to see Chriss holding Xyn close to him. Keeping him warm, Jayk remembered. Chriss' pale eyes were wide, and his body was trembling. His green tinged skin was also noticeably paler. Xyn, however, was calm and undisturbed. His eyes were blank and staring straight ahead, blissfully ignorant of what Jayk had just done. Unaware even on a Psionic level that Jayk's Mind had cried out to him for help. Jayk felt a hot tear on his cheek, and began to tremble as well. Slowly, it soaked in as his mind cleared. Jayk had murdered this man, this man who had led a group of Outcasts across the Ruins to join with his own group to secure food and supplies for them all. And I killed him, Jayk realized, as the blackness began to close in on his vision. His legs became weak, and, spent from his attack and the horrible realization, Jayk collapsed.

Xyn was awakened by a clap of thunder and what sounded like a animal growling. He sat bolt upright, staring into the white-speckled blackness. The wind had picked up, and he was cold. He shivered, and the wind bent the grass as it turned even chillier. The sky (or was it the water?) suddenly began to color too quickly, and it was a bright red. He had seen sunrises before, and this red was not the sun. The sun was warm, and he was cold. Thunder rumbled, and he screamed and jumped as a bolt of white lightning shot down from the sky to strike the white sand at the edge of the grass. Xyn hugged his knees and bowed his head, frightened, wishing it would stop. He was alone, and it was storming. The thunder scared him, but it didn't sound right. It wasn't thunder. It was the sound of a beast crying out for blood.

He was so hungry, so cold. He was alone, and no one cared. He didn't want to die… but he was alive, and hadn't he eaten dinner with the others not long ago? How he had gotten outside, he had no clue, but there he was, naked in the grass. And where was his Suit? Mr. Rick would be angry if he'd lost it. But where was HE? Where was the Facility and why wasn't he in his dorm room with the other XY's? Shouldn't a Bot be looking for him if he was missing? Where were M and O, his bunk mates? They liked him, more than that even, didn't Mr. Rick love him? But he remembered it all so clearly, and yet he knew that it had never happened – but it did – didn't – did – didn't – did…

He smelled the stink of burnt sand and grass, and he forced himself to glance up as the storm broke. Too terrified to run, he merely stared back at the mirror on the ground created by the melting of the white sand in the incredible blast. Wisps of smoke curled up from that jagged mirror as the rain hit. He looked up again towards the sky (water?). The downpour was warm, and it felt so good. He uncurled himself a bit, then light grew stronger, and he could see that it was not rain. It was blood. The grass, the sand, his skin were all bright red with warm blood. Again he screamed, and the mirror shattered. The sound drew his eyes to it, and amid the flying shards of virgin glass stood a little one. Xyn gasped and swallowed hard.

His hair was long and braided, and his skin dark. He was taller than Xyn and lean, almost muscular, but not quite. He turned and looked this way and that, not seeing Xyn. As the light grew stronger and the rain of blood slacked off, Xyn saw his face. His sloped eyebrows raced up and away from almond-shaped eyes that were too haunted to belong to a little one. His ears were pointed, and from his upper lip protruded razor sharp fangs that dripped blood. Xyn looked him over, wondering if this newcomer was a threat, when his eyes stopped. Was this an XX or an XY? He couldn't tell. There were no XY-parts, Xyn saw, but no XX that Xyn had ever seen had looked like this. He stared for a bit, then the newcomer turned to face him. The red glow of the sky gave way to the real warmth of the sun as morning broke and the newcomer's strangely haunted eyes teared up and the fanged mouth smiled.

"Xyn!" he cried, in a voice that bespoke a little XY, only a bit too rough and not as high. The anxiety and relief coming off of him were unbelievable.

Xyn took a step back. The stranger took a step forward, confusion covering his face. Xyn could 'feel' relief, happiness, but then the strong confusion. Xyn stepped back and again, and the confusion was overwhelming. He watched the other's smile fade, and saw his eyes go dull in the brightening morning light. His braided head slouched down, his chin almost touching his chest. Xyn could count his ribs, he noticed. And then he began to cry.

"I didn't mean to!" He wailed, and Xyn wondered what it was that he had done. He also wondered where he had come from. He still wasn't sure himself where HE was or how he'd gotten there to begin with, and now he had company. Strange company.

Xyn knew that he himself was a Psion, a Mutant. Of that much he was certain. But this newcomer, who was definitely a Mutant, was in serious pain. Despite his fear, Xyn inched his way closer to the sobbing little one. He looked familiar. His lean frame was wracked by sobs of pure anguish, and the self-loathing and fear were almost more than Xyn could bear. He felt his own eyes tearing up as he reached out a smooth and flawless hand to him, realizing how white it was in comparison to this other. At first he didn't see, and Xyn cleared his throat. Slowly, with tears streaming down his face, this other took Xyn's blood-stained hand in his own – which was even bloodier – and pulled him close. He tried his best to soothe this strange one's tormented Mind, and it helped some. There were feelings of familiarity, relief, even a flicker of happiness. Yet there was pain, old pain, and emotion marred by heavy losses in life. Xyn sensed that this little one was not what he seemed, despite his lack of XY-parts, and that his life 'felt' long. Far too long. Still, there was no danger, only relief. Relief and intense pain.

"Xyn, believe me, I didn't mean to," he choked, trying to regain control of himself.

"What I did. I just went… you know… they said I had it in me, but I never believed it. He wanted to leave you, Xyn. You were sick and he said to leave you behind…" yet the words trailed off into incoherent babble as the sobbing began anew. Xyn caught small bits and pieces, and from what he could 'see' in this tortured Mind, he began to piece it together. It was even more confusing than his present conundrum.

Finally, after what seemed like hours and the hot sun was high over the bloody grass, the other finally spoke again. Xyn was tired from his mental exertions, but he knew most of what this other knew. He also seemed to have regained some more composure. "I don't know what to do," he offered.

Confusion. A great deal of confusion. The other looked around, his angular eyes widening. "Where the hell are we?" he demanded.

His name was Jayk. It felt familiar, but then again so did being beaten, being chased, being hungry… and that didn't ever happen – but it had – or hadn't – had – hadn't – had. Xyn's head began to hurt again, badly this time. So badly that he slammed his eyes shut and grasped his temples. This Jayk was speaking again, "What happened to your hair?"

"But you should, you did when we met, just a bit of stubble though. It outta be fuzz by now."

Xyn shook his head. "Where's my Suit?" he asked, "It's white with a black 'N' on it."

"Xyn, buddy, get a grip," the other sniffed, his confusion mounting again, "It's me, JAYK!" For a moment, Jayk wondered how Xyn had gotten out of his Suit indeed, then noticed that he himself was naked as well. He didn't dwell on it, though. There wasn't time; it didn't matter.

Xyn shook his head, which was pounding. It had been in Jayk's Mind, now it was in his own Mind, but it didn't make sense. Like all the other things, Xyn hadn't run away. He wasn't lost. There was no fire, and what was all of this strange behavior with this odd one? What had they done to each other in the strange room with the books? He sat down in the white sand, the heat from the noon time sun burning his butt as he sat. But he didn't care. His head hurt too badly. None of it made sense, and he couldn't sort it out. It was as if he had three versions of his life running inside of his Mind, and two of them he couldn't believe.

Then there were hands on him, hands calloused and rough from work, not like his own soft hands with their perfectly trimmed nails. One of those hands lifted his chin so that he looked this Jayk fellow in the eye. "I'm glad I found you, Xyn."

"I-I I don't kn-know you!" Xyn stammered in confusion, the waves of relief and happiness of this Jayk person overpowering him. Why was he so happy to see him? "I d-don't know where w-we are. I d-don't know wh-who I am… I w-wanna go h-h-home!"

Jayk's mouth dropped open, and seemingly out of instinct, he pulled Xyn close to him. He didn't resist. His own grief seemed to have dissipated, and his obvious lack of clothing (to say nothing of his lack of XY-parts) didn't seem to phase him. Xyn could feel realizations, a lot of them. Jayk knew something – something important. "Oh no, buddy," he began, "Not in the shape you're in. Turn that Psi of yours off and let me think."

Jayk nodded, and Xyn could feel him suppressing something. "I don't know what happened to you last night, Xyn, but you're messed up. Did you hit your head on a low beam in the ship, or the wing maybe?"

Xyn whimpered and lay back on the sand. "I d-don't know!" he moaned again, "What ship?"

Jayk immediately shuttled his own damaged feelings off to the side. Having been a slave for so long, he had been conditioned to put his own feelings last. Without even realizing it, perhaps out of the emotions he felt for this strange little Runaway, he did just that. He put Xyn's problem ahead of his own grief and carefully thought out a reply. He had heard that the truth often wasn't kind, but that the truth was the only thing that could straighten this mess out for both of them. He gave Xyn a few moments to relax in the hot sand, then he began to talk.

The groups slowly organized and began to move away. The factions that had come together all followed suit, and led by Shar and her group, they began the long trek back to the vast underground complex. Many of them were still shocked, and those that had not seen Jayk's outburst had heard the rumors. They were abuzz with the news as they set out. 'A Beast? One of them was a Beast and he gone off? He had killed who? Surely not! But it was all true… I was there, I saw it. He tore his throat out and ate his head! You should have seen it… no, they left him where he fell when he came back to himself. Once it wore off and he saw what he'd done, he passed out. We don't need that, you know. Beasts are rare, and you know what they do to them… worst Mutation there is, too dangerous. What?! Yes, they left him where he fell, right in the bloody gutter where he landed. Who cares what happens to him? He didn't wake up, and that Shar lady tried with her Psi, you know. If SHE couldn't rouse him, who could? Maybe the Change killed him. Better off if it did, sure as hell better for US. We don't want THAT kind of person with us. What if he turns on us?'

On and on it went, the stories growing wilder and the tales of Jayk's transformation and his deed growing taller and taller by the hour. Only one small set of round ears heard the rumors and didn't believe them. Only one small set of teary eyes had seen it in person, to remember what had really happened. There was a reason, and that reason was sitting on an anti-grav beside of him since neither of them could walk very far.

Tym couldn't walk that far to make it back since he was so small and weak, and Xyn couldn't walk that far because if the person holding his arm let go of him, he just stopped and fell over. Tym knew what was to blame for Xyn's condition, but he just couldn't say it. For most all of his short life, he had been driven out by everyone. No one had ever really wanted him, until the strange boy in the dirty white clothes had fed him that night. What if he told and they did like the bad man had said, left him behind? He had wanted to leave Xyn behind, and Xyn was so good. They had left Jayk behind as well, unconscious and helpless where he had fallen. What if they want to leave me because they like Xyn and they find out that I hurt him? Carefully, Tym climbed into Xyn's lap and wrapped his thin little arms around Xyn's neck. He rested his head against Xyn's breast and although his heart was breaking, he found that he couldn't cry. The tears had stopped coming long ago. He wasn't even sure when.

It's all my fault. He fed me, he talked to me, he held me. He kept my from hurt when they were working on the ship. He made me feel safe so I could sleep, and he even gave me his own food. And what did I do? How did I repay him? I let him 'see'. I let him 'in.' I was afraid he'd turn on me too, just like everyone else and I grabbed onto him too hard, too fast. Let him 'see' too much, now he's all messed up and I don't know how to fix it. I broke him and I don't know how to fix him and there's nobody else here that can do what I can do and I can't tell them because if they know they'll do me like they did Jayk, like everyone else did, run me off or beat me and hope I die… I have to hide it, but I have to work on it, I have to use it and I'll fix him, I'll make him back like he was, I have to…

The anti-grav slid smoothly along, and from the corner of his eye Tym could see Chriss, the strange greenish boy with the white hair. Tym liked Chriss well enough, but some of the things that he had overheard him talking about scared him. Scared him almost as much as the thought of being beaten and driven away again. He couldn't take that, he knew; he couldn't take leaving this group – leaving Xyn. His own group didn't really want him either, but a few of them had felt sorry for him when they'd found him and brought him along. There was just something about a person who gave you his food, didn't they realize that? Didn't they know what it meant?

So they rode on in silence with Chriss glancing at them from time to time and sending a shiver down Tym's spine. It was getting on towards nightfall when they woke up the Nightstalkers and sent them out ahead to lead the way. Tired as they all were, they weren't stopping, and the lights of the anti-gravs and the stolen equipment were too risky to use. Too easy to spot. It was beginning to get chilly as well, and Tym was glad that he had Xyn to hold onto, even if Xyn couldn't hold him in return. His own ragged clothes didn't do much to ward off the chill of the night air, and Tym wondered if Xyn's Suit was keeping him warm enough. He wished for a blanket. A few minutes later, Chriss brought them one. Tym took it and covered them both, his eyes apprehensive. Chriss still wore only his tattered short pants; a Pyro would have little use for warm clothing, after all.

"Thanks," he muttered, snuggling down under the blanket as if to say to the young Pyro, he's mine and you can't have him – I know what you wanna do to him!

Chriss lowered his long-fingered hand slowly and his face flushed. Tym felt a rush of warmth coming off of him, but if being close to Chriss was the only way to stay warm, he'd sooner freeze. "Ah. I'm not gonna bite you, Tym," Chriss retorted sadly. "I 'heard' what you just thought – I may not be Shar or one of the others, but I do have a limited Psi and you're actually 'screaming' at me how much you hate me. Anybody could see it."

Tym didn't hesitate in his reply. "I heard what you said. I know what you are. I know why you did it. I know you wanna do it Xyn, and if you knew, you'd do it to ME too! Well you can't! I won't let you! You might be a Pyro, but I can hit you faster than you can burn me up!"

Chriss was taken aback by the ferocity of Tym's outburst. He knew that the tiny XY was scared of him because he'd heard him speaking about being castrated. He knew that Tym had heard him tell Jayk and some others that he'd volunteered for it, and that he liked being a eunuch. That they thought that it would – that it DID – enhance Mutant powers in XY's. It was a formidable weapon in the war that they all knew was coming with the Approveds, but how to make it make sense? All of these things ran through Chriss' mind in an instant : how many of the younger men and little XY's of the groups of Mutants would submit to having their balls cut off? Would anyone think it a worthy sacrifice for the good of the many, for a few to lose their impending manhood? Do I really feel like this? I know my own powers went wild when I was healed up after being cut, and if Jayk was a real Beast, and he's cut too it explains a lot. There are others, we ARE proof. We could win… If only…

Then Chriss looked deep into Tym's eyes. What did he mean, "I can hit you faster than you could burn me up?" Was Tym a Mutant, and not an Orphan or Runaway Bio? He had to have something going for him, otherwise the Ruins would have killed him with a Remnant by now. It made no sense. Chriss knew that at the core of Tym's resentment was the fear that Chriss would want to cut his balls off too if he discovered… what? He probed… but whatever Tym was hiding, he was hiding it well and it would take someone like Shar to drag it out of him. And he was convinced that Chriss wanted Xyn castrated as well because of how Shar had bragged him up as such a powerful Psion for one so young. It all made sense. Chriss shook his head.

"Tym, I don't wanna hurt you. I'm not gonna sneak up on you and cut your balls off while you're asleep. If you're not a Mutant, that'd be just mean to do to a little XY like you. And if you ARE a Mutant, well, maybe you can understand it later on, when you grow up. IF we all live that long, that is. As for Xyn, well, I know he's your buddy and he fed you. I DO know what that means to a Orphan – or a street rat like you were. I don't want to hurt him, Tym, but from what I got from some of his group, Xyn's growing up. He's into puberty hard, and he's sexually active. It won't be long until his balls start killing off his Psi and we don't wanna lose him. He's too important. You understand?"

Tym shook his head, although he did in fact understand. It did make sense, even if it made him sick to his stomach to think about it. He knew now that he had to bury his secret even deeper in case Chriss sent someone like Shar after it, but he also knew that he had to drag it out and use it to fix Xyn. He had to fix him, since he had been the one who had broken him. Then Chriss would find out… they'd all find out – and they'd either drive him out… or castrate him to make his own private horror even stronger. He had mentioned war, others had too; he had heard the whispers, and he knew that his curse would make him a perfect little soldier for their cause.

"Doesn't matter," Chriss was saying, stepping closer to the anti-grav, "C'mon, you're shaking. Let me warm you up. I promise I won't hurt you. I've never set fire to anyone, really, so don't think that about me, please."

There was something new is Chriss' voice then, and to Tym it sounded like longing. Was it possible, with his Pyro abilities so strengthened by his castration and lack of male hormones, that Chriss didn't have any friends anymore because they were as frightened of him as Tym was?

Rick Abrams didn't sleep that night. Instead, he got Online to the Networks when he retired to his own room at the Facility and began reviewing the data sent in by various Hunters. Sightings were getting rarer and rarer; it was as if the Mutants in the Old Cities and outlying areas were going into hiding. There were far fewer drop-offs of unwanted Bios or plain old Orphans – Enhanced or not – at Facilities worldwide, and the pattern was shocking. Even satellite data seemed to indicate that areas previously infested were thinning out. Could it be that they had somehow banded together and made for the Ruins, where even vermin couldn't live? COULD they live there? Did they have some ability that the Approveds lacked? It was annoying.

Then he came to the report from another Hunter. THE Hunter. He read it slowly, with his eyes. He downloaded it via his Processor. He scanned it, he verified it. THE Hunter could go and venture into the Ruins, yes – he was a Mutant and he had a Suit. Then it hit him – so could Xyn. The old 32, before the fire, had been very close to the Ruins, in fact, only a day's walk from the Ruins. He had always wondered why they had built it there, at the very fringe of habitable area, and a cold suspicion began to dawn on him. He'd been trying to avoid the logic of it, but a fire in a high tech Facility was very nearly impossible. If only the satellites could verify it, but ComTell 7 which ran that area had been offline for weeks. Offline at about the same time that the number of Mutants being caught began to decline sharply. Offline at about the same time that a major transport ship has vanished into the Ruins without a trace. No doubt sabotage, or was he reading too much into it? There was no proof, after all, and who could – who would – do that? He simply couldn't believe it. If the Hunter's theory of a migration of Unapproveds into the Ruins was true, then it could only mean one thing – a race war. The Unification would be in danger, and countless Approved lives were at risk. His console beeped. A small orange light in the corner of his left eye blinked.

"Sorry to bother you on offtime, sir, but we have an urgent request. Your signature is needed to sign off on the ship-out of Bio XY-H2 for Approved Adoption. I'll transfer the document…"

"Fuck the documents, just send him out!" Abrams bellowed, "Let whoever bought him have him," then under his breath so that he wouldn't hear it, "I need a new assistant."

Bitterly, Abrams thought: No, I don't. I don't want to know. I don't want to know if they want him because they want a little one of their very own to love. I don't want to know if they only want him for his Bio parts for their own failing little one. I'll sleep easier if I don't know. I'll sleep easier if I don't know what he's going to lose when he gets there. I'd sleep easier if I knew where Xyn was… if they'd just let me have my boy to take home…

"No," he said flatly, and went back to the reports, "Discharge is confirmed. Get him out of here." Abrams fixed himself some coffee, a rare delicacy, but one he could afford. Moving into an administrative dorm at the Facility would allow him to afford even more things as well. It was a last-ditch effort, but he thought that it might work. He was highly paid, in fact, his position was one of the highest paid in the industry, since no one else wanted the job. He breathed in the smell of the bitter brew as it dripped into the pot and sighed. "I won't dwell on the dealing of a death that I know nothing of," he promised himself, his mind wandering, reaching – almost wishing that he were a Psionic Mutant so that he could just reach his thoughts out into the land and find Xyn and call him home… home that was now his office, his work – his life.

There was a noise at the door. Abrams jumped. "So help me God, I'll fire his ass right after I kick it if that's him… ENTER!" he shouted.

The door slid open to reveal a small form in a white suit with a black H2 emblem on it. The little bald fellow was carrying a small pack and he was smiling. Abrams sighed, reminding himself that in this new building, Bios weren't locked in their rooms anymore and they could leave their beds to get help. What this mostly consisted of was help with bad dreams, drinks of water, and malfunctioning Suits. Those were the worst. It took forever to fix a screwed up Suit. Abrams made an effort to soften his face as the little one's smile faded.

"What seems to be the problem, H2?" Abrams offered, realizing that he had frightened him.

"He said I could come and say goodbye, sir. I'm sorry to bother you. I'm leaving now. Thank you for letting them have me." He quickly turned to go. Abrams watched him.

He wanted so badly to go to him, to hug him and tell him goodbye too – and that he'd miss him. But it wasn't true, was it? He'd become attached once, and he just couldn't bear it again. Was H2 really getting a family, or was he going off to be butchered? Pure Bios cost so much… but Abrams couldn't bring himself to ruin it for the little one. If he was having a moment of pure happiness, Abrams wouldn't ruin it for him. "Goodbye, H2. Did they give you a name yet?"

The little bald Bio shook his head, his small pack swinging behind him. "No, but I got real clothes they sent so I can leave your Suit here. The Bots are gonna help me get dressed, since I don't know how. Well… goodbye, sir. I don't wanna be late!"

Abrams couldn't resist it. The Bot came up behind H2 and gently said, "We must go now, H2, we'll be late." They started off down the hall as Abrams called out, "H2, when you see him at the transport, tell him something for me?"

H2 stopped, turned and nodded, his smile lighting up the hallway. Abrams felt decidedly sick. "Anything, sir?!"

He watched a confused H2 and the Bot make their way to an elevator entry, the little XY chattering at the nodding and ever-patient CareBot the whole time about his new family…

Very slowly and meticulously, Jayk recited what he knew of world history. The War, the Devastation, the Collapse. He covered the Unification, then the Outcasting. Everything he had explained to Xyn back in his old room, he covered again. He then talked about the classifications, the technological advances, and the use of the Outcasts to better the Approved class of citizens. Xyn's eyes popped open wide when he came to the part about Facilities, Bios, and forced transplants. "Is that what happened to you?" Xyn asked in a hushed tone, gesturing at Jayk's smooth crotch.

Jayk shook his head, his braids moving in a rustle. Xyn found that he liked that sound. "I was born a free Mutant, a long long time ago. I got caught by a Hunter and sold to a Dealer. They made me a slave and the man who bought me did this to me."

Then Jayk covered everything else, and when he thought that Xyn was finally ready, he began telling about how they had met. Xyn listened, although still in obvious pain. He shook his head from time to time as if he didn't believe it. When Jayk was almost finished with his tale, up to the point of Xyn being found catatonic, the young Psion had passed out. Trying to assimilate all of Jayk's data and reconcile it with his own memories as well as the information he had gleaned from Jayk's mind was simply too much. Overloaded, his Mind shut down and he slept.

Jayk lay down beside him and pulled him close. He didn't understand Xyn's appearance – the lack of hair, the tenderness of his skin, the overall timidity and fright. He held him tightly, his thoughts being of Chriss doing the same thing to keep him warm. Jayk was jealous, and he realized it. What an amazing thing, he mused silently, promising himself that he was NOT going to attack Chriss and dismember him when they got back.

Back… but from where? Where were they? What was this place, and how did they come to be there? More frightening was, how do we get back? He'd been too involved with explaining things to Xyn to think about it until then.

Slowly, as Xyn slept, Jayk began to piece it together. Although he was not a Psion and he had no way of knowing what was in Xyn's Mind, he had a good idea. This was where Xyn had gone that night. Something he had 'seen' in the mind of Tym – the starving little one that he had befriended – had been so traumatic that his Psionic abilities had simply tried to protect themselves. Xyn couldn't cope with what he had 'experienced' in Tym, and like any frightened child, he had ran. Tried to hide. THIS was the place where he had hidden, but the trauma had followed him, mixing the facts of Tym's life with his own into a jumbled mess that was a paradox. Jayk looked around.

There was nothing to be seen but clear blue sky and tall green grass. The white sand ended at the lake, which was as blue as the sky. There were no birds singing, no fish jumping. No insects buzzing. There were no buildings, no noises, and this told Jayk that they were not in a physical place at all. Where they were was somewhere that Xyn's mind had constructed. It was as pretty as a holo-pic, and Jayk realized that they must be in something dreamed up by one that Xyn had seen while he was still a Facility inmate.

Then the rest of it hit him : if Xyn's here, and it's only his Mind, then I'm only here as my Mind. I know Chriss has Xyn's inert body back in the Ruins, headed back home. But what about me? What's happening to the real me, my body, back there? How did I get here? Why am I here, and how do we get OUT?

As if in reply to his silent query, Xyn turned a bit and tightened his hold on Jayk. He brought me here, Jayk thought, He DID hear me cry out to him when I killed that big man. He 'heard' me, even HERE, and he reached out to pull me in, to protect ME like he was protecting himself. Jayk then realized that Xyn was the only way out, and until he sorted out the paradox that was tearing his Mind to pieces and decided to go back, both of them were trapped there. Jayk swallowed hard.

What if he couldn't? What if the young Psion couldn't sort it out, or didn't have the raw amount of power to do it? What would happen to them, two zombies in the 'real' world? Would they do as the man with the metal eye had suggested and leave them? Or would they take care of them, coaxing their senseless bodies into walking along or pulling them back on an anti-grav? Would they take the time to do it? Jayk sighed. For Xyn, they might. He was valuable. He was a Psion and a pure Bio. He also had the suit, which made his body almost indestructible. Jayk, however, didn't consider himself having much of a chance. He was a Beast. His attack had proved it. Somehow, enough Slow time must have passed for his ancient little body to come to grips with the lack of testosterone in his system. His Mutant abilities had finally adapted, and gone wild as Chriss' had. That was why he had snapped, and it explained why he had never gone off on his Master and killed him. He hadn't developed as a Beast then, and in Slow time, it had taken so long for the affects of the castration to catch up with him. He had just begun puberty when they had captured and cut him, and his Master had immediately introduced him to the pleasures of sex. Reluctantly, for the only time other than when he had introduced Xyn to sex, Jayk realized how much he had liked it. For Jayk, the process of hormonal withdrawal had continued slowly and then begun to wain after only several Cycles as his body slowly aged in relativity to the rest of the world. He remembered his Master talking about it, about how little XY's changed so fast after you cut them – but how Jayk wouldn't change fast because he COULDN'T change fast. He remembered his Master's grin as well.

Chriss, the voluntary eunuch Pyro, had been right. As much as the theory appalled him, Jayk had to concede. He was living proof, as was Chriss. A vision of Xyn being able to finally pull himself out of this mental hiding place then came to Jayk's mind – a vision of Xyn waking up to find himself in a body suffering from muscular atrophy and castrated as well. He could already hear Chriss' arguments to the rest of them, hear the rest of Chriss' group supporting him.

Didn't they understand that it was wrong? Jayk couldn't put it past Chriss to lobby for an involuntary castration of the catatonic Xyn's body. Surely they would try their best to awaken him, but if they couldn't – would Chriss tell them that the castration might spark Xyn's own abilities to pull himself out of his state of unawareness? They had to know, certainly Shar knew, and would say something about Xyn coming into his sexual awareness. She had seen them right after the act – she had to KNOW.

Hell, thought Jayk, any Psion within a league of us had to know, as good as it felt. We probably alerted half the Ruins when we both came.

Still, Jayk wondered. Shar had to have some grasp of what taking away the ability to do what they had done for one another would be painful beyond measure. He himself had endured it; endured it for countless Cycles. More than anything, after they'd cut him, Jayk desperately wanted to be able to masturbate again, but there was no way that he could. It had been agonizing, frustrating… But would she try and stop them? Jayk sighed, and it hurt to think of it. She had invaded his Mind, taken control of him. In all of his life, even his Master had never hurt him that badly. The physical pain of his brutal emasculation had been nothing compared to the onslaught of Shar's Will. With a wave of nausea passing over him, he realized that Shar wouldn't. She would evaluate the whole situation as a good commander of any army would do. She would do what was best for her cause, for the needs of the many. If it proved to be true, and Jayk was sure that it was, Shar would allow someone with a Medpack to geld Xyn just as surely as she'd order a single guard to kill an invading Hunter.

After what he'd done to the big man with the eye, Jayk doubted that she'd have any compassion for the feelings of a Beast Mutant and his lover. Dark thoughts began to cloud his mind then, thoughts that he was good friends with. They were with him so often, and he knew them so well. Yet he was wherever he was, trapped inside of Xyn's imaginary holo-pic world with no way out. No way to save either of them in the real world.

He watched the blue sky darken as the sun of Xyn's created paradise began to sink. It was happening too fast, and Jayk wondered if Time actually meant anything there. It probably didn't, but there was no way to know. Everything would be just the way that Xyn perceived it.

Jayk wondered, as the pain of his own cutting came back to him once again, who would cut Xyn and how?

Chapter Six
Saints & Sinners

As the Outcasts head back to Shar's home in the Ruins with their pluncer, Xyn regains his senses and we gain some insight into the Personalities of the Hunter and Mr. Rick.

"I never meant to be so bad to you,one thing I said that I would never do."
– Asia, Asia, 1982

"It's the pride you hide,when you're breakin' up inside."
– Roger Daltrey, Under a Raging Moon, 1985

Rain fell softly from the ashen colored sky as the ranks of Shar's well planned army of Outcasts slowly made their long way back into the Ruins toward the place that her group knew as home. It had taken days, much longer than planned, to empty and destroy the transport ship. Now she was faced with successfully finishing the trip back, not to mention all of the new arrivals. The journey back was going to take too long for her liking. It had been too long already, but she was able to justify this to herself whenever she stopped and looked back at the line of Outcasts which stretched back along the deserted streets for blocks on end. Almost everyone was carrying something, whether it be a loaded backpack or guiding an anti-grav full of supplies. Many of the smaller and weaker ones had been placed in the cargo holds of the small vehicles stolen from the doomed transport ship. Most of them being little ones too small to keep up or too weak to walk so far. She noticed some element of joy, however, in seeing those little ones sitting on the backs of small vehicles, their feet dangling and swinging as they watched the pavement go by underneath of them. She sighed heavily and watched them pass by her, heedless of the constant rain. And although her Psi ranged out ahead and behind them, ever vigilant to the threat of the Hunter of whose existence which she now knew, her heart ached nonetheless. The two who had left these empty spots were gone. One was dead and one was the killer – left for dead. She swept over them all again, becoming attuned to the presence of the new groups. There were so many, and so many more with talents, some with even new talents, yet some hiding things. This she could feel, but was determined not to pry. Suddenly the feeling of things hidden began to grow stronger, and her Psi pinpointed it with ease.

A small rover-type vehicle was approaching, loaded with as much cargo as it could carry. It also carried two passengers. One was the little one that she had named Xyn Psion, for his talents and his gift to her charge Dan. The other was a newcomer, a very small and sickly little XY known only as Tym. Shar shivered as the rover passed by her. The driver, somewhat of a stranger to her, she could feel. He was elated and cautious, his almost colorless eyes darting this way and that. Occasionally he would shake his head of long white hair and wipe the water from his slightly green tinted face. She felt heat as well as they passed, but what made her blood run cold was the fact that from Xyn Psion, she felt nothing. The little XY in the dirty white Suit gave her Psi nothing to sense. It was as if, were it not for the breathing and heartbeat, that she was scanning a dead man. The one she had heard called Tym, so frail and inoffensive looking, was curled up in Xyn's lap. His thin arms were locked around Xyn's chest and his face buried in Xyn's shoulder. However, the little Psion's eyes were vacant, staring straight ahead of him and seeing nothing.

It was from Tym that the sensation came, she suddenly realized. With a start, she turned and began to follow the rover. The driver nodded to her and turned back to his job at hand. Gently, suppressing a chill, Shar probed at Xyn's Mind. Nothing. Then Tym spun his head around to face her, his eyes wide and his eyebrows creased into a hateful frown. For a split second, Shar felt something from him. In another split second, her defenses raised. Then it was gone. Tym whimpered and resumed his former position. That was all she needed to know.

The driver, whom Shar thought was called Chriss, slowed the rover a bit. Mentally, Shar 'cleared her throat.' Thank you Chriss, but this is a private conversation.

Again, she reached out to Tym. I know you're hiding something, little one. Something very strong. I know you feel guilt, fear, hurt. I know you've been rejected, but no one will reject you here, nor drive you away. I also know that you feel responsible for Xyn, the one to whom you cling both night and day, but how are you to blame? No one knows the pitfalls and traps which befall a Psion, especially a novice little one.

Please… please just leave us alone! Tym replied, and Shar could feel the pain in his thought. The pain joined with her own, and she reached out a metaphysical hand of sorts to Tym.

Instead, Shar could feel the walls within his mind fortifying, feel his defenses going into full alert. The fragile looking little one was drawing himself up for battle, but yet it did not feel like any kind of Psionic tactic that she was familiar with. This was something new.

Don't make me do it, he almost pleaded, his thoughts agonized, You're distracting me. I have to figure it out. I have to fix it. I have to make it right. We'll be OK, I swear, just leave us alone! I don't what might happen if… if…

Shar felt his thought break off. Sweeping her raven black hair – which had gone flat from the rain – off of her shoulders, she drew herself up. If this strange little one wanted to, she was more than game for a challenge. In the past, she had been private and gentle. However, this one was hiding something from her – something dangerous. THAT much she could tell, and this was a very bad time for secrets. Their progress was too slow, and the threat of the Hunter or others like him, too great. With the pain in her heart worsened by what she knew she had to do, Shar brought her full will to bear. The driver stopped the rover and gasped in shock.

He nodded and closed his eyes, then at her unspoken command, he jumped down from the driver's seat and ran. He didn't want to be anywhere near them. The rest of the line of Outcasts crossed to the other side of the empty street, none of them looking in her direction. It took only seconds for the Psions in the assorted groups to pass the word, and Shar began her investigation into Tym's Mind.

There was a pause, then Shar felt Tym's Mind sweeping gently over her. It was NOT Psionic, however! It was like nothing she had felt before. A flash of fear seized her, but she threw it off. Shar had not backed down from anyone or anything since going Runaway so long ago, and this little one was not going to be the one who made her run again. His touch was fleeting and gentle, and somewhere deep inside of him, Shar felt a cry building. She lashed out at that feeling, found it, and envisioned taking Tym in her arms and integrating him into the lives of her other little ones. She could feel the pain building, and the familiar feeling of a simply angry little one who wasn't getting his own way welled up. THIS she knew how to deal with. Come, she invited.

She was totally unprepared for what hit her. Suddenly the ruined city was gone, and she was running down a busy street with an angry man chasing her. Her lungs were on fire, her sides ached and her head throbbed. She saw that clutched in her tiny hand was a strange fruit of some kind, and that piece of fruit meant more to her than the entire world. She longed to bite into it, wolf it down, and run again. Instead she stopped, bringing her will to bear on her pursuer. She felt the hate emanating from him as he aimed a weapon at her. "YOU are not real," she replied, throwing the odd fruit at him. It passed through his chest as if he were a phantom without so much as slowing down. It splattered on the pavement behind him, and some part of her wanted to wail in despair. "THIS is not real, either. THIS is not who I AM!" And with that, the scene vanished. Once again, she stared at Tym, who still sat on the catatonic Xyn's lap. He was trembling violently and shaking his head.

I didn't mean to! he cried at her Mind, Please, please don't hurt us! Don't leave us! We'll get better, I swear we will, I can fix it! I know I can!

Shar thought for a moment, and the wave of sadness and fear coming off of Tym nearly buckled her knees. Then it came to her. Tym had flashed one of his memories at her. It was a memory so strong that it took the recipient by surprise and literally pulled him into itself. Shar was amazed! She was also amazed at Tym's reply to her question, Can you not trust even your own kind? We will not harm you, Tym, that I promise.

LIAR! Tym's Mind screamed at her, You loved him! You were listening to him! He wanted to leave Xyn behind to die, and you were listening to him! Jayk loved Xyn more than anyone, more than his own life, and almost more than he loved YOU! And what did you do to him when he tried to protect us? You left him! You left him laying in the gutter to die, just like HE wanted to do to Xyn!

Once again, the scene of Jayk ripping out the throat of the big man – no, not just any man – the group leader with the cybernetic eye, played before Shar's stunned Mind. She saw Jayk changed, saw him lunge, saw herself hit him with the full unadulterated force of her Will. She felt shame at her actions. She felt the loss. The empty places in her heart cried out, and as she saw the blood fountaining up out of HIS ruined neck to splash all over Jayk once more, she heard Tym scream verbally, for all to hear, "I WON'T take that place! I won't trust you! You might be the Queen to this band of Mutants and Outcasts and be the one with the grand plan, but I won't trust you! You're a liar and a bitch and I HATE you!"

The memory played out, and Shar didn't stop it as she had before. She watched as Jayk came back to his senses, and she knew that he was frightened and afraid. A new sense of self-loathing, so recently cured by Xyn's tender mercies, flooded through the exposed Beast Mutant and he began to tremble. Finally, she felt it become to much for him to bear. All of the times she had tried to comfort him over the past twenty Cycles came to mind. How hurt he had been when she'd rescued him from his life of slavery, and how many times she had tried to heal that hurt. Always, however, Jayk had resisted. Now, in the memory that Tym threw at her unmercifully, her Psi saw the horrible pain that had been in Jayk's heart. In all of his long Cycles as a Slow Mutant, trapped seemingly forever in the body of a little one, Jayk had never willingly harmed another living soul. There were times when he had defended himself, yes, but this killing was far too much for him to accept. He was collapsing to the dirty sidewalk, and as he fell, Shar saw herself turning her back on him.

The ache was forming then, a piece of herself staying behind. No, two pieces. Shar realized, as Tym ceased his assault, what she had done. She had let her personal feelings and her own anger make the decision for her. The best interests of the group had been her foremost concern then. Jayk was a Beast as well as a Slow Mutant, and he could not be trusted. He had proven himself a killer, and he could not remain. She remembered leaving him, and she remembered the anger.

Then with a broken hearted wail, and to the shock of the group, Shar buried her flawless face in her hands and screamed.

Every Psion in the group paused. All movement ceased. Little ones clung to the nearest Adult or each other. Only Xyn did not respond, or rather, no one saw him respond. Not even Tym, who had gone back to his careful plans of awakening his new friend.

Far above their heads, Jayk and Xyn both sat up and watched the sky split open to drown the land in a soaking downpour. The sticky blood was washed from their two naked bodies, and the tall grass bent in the wind as the waters rippled and washed over the sand. They embraced each other as the rain fell upon them, cold, and a blood-curdling scream split their ears and Minds.

Then he looked at his companion in this strange place. "Jayk, that was Shar. I know her!"

Jayk's elation was obvious. "Yes, Shar! You remember her? Do you know her? Do you know ME?"

Xyn thought about it. "I know you," he said, as the wind picked up and the grass bent even further, "I know you, Jayk. You found me… in the forest. You took me… you took me… home! To YOUR home. That's where Shar was!"

Jayk smiled broadly, his curved fangs flashing and dripping as the rain soaked them clean. "You helped me," he offered.

Xyn nodded, this brow creased in deep thought. "We did something. Us. Even though you're not, I mean, well…" he faltered, gesturing at Jayk's smooth crotch, "I didn't know and you showed me…" Jayk was nodding, and the feelings that Xyn was remembering caused a stirring in his own crotch. However, Xyn had something there in his – and he now knew what it could do. It all came back at him in a sudden rush : the confusion, the pleasure, the seemingly infinite orgasm which had almost killed Jayk, and very good it had all felt. He found that he wasn't ashamed, in fact, he wanted to do it again! There was, however, no time.

He remembered what he had seen of Jayk's life, Jayk's memories. He recalled being Xyn/Jayk and the pleasures as well as pain. Very carefully, he tried to reconstruct that merging, but then something slipped.

"YOU didn't like me because you thought I was different, you thought I was dangerous!" Xyn suddenly yelled, pulling away from Jayk and standing up. "You made me leave! You hit me! You made me leave, and you said you'd kill me if I came back!"

Jayk, however, was ready for this. While Xyn had slept, Jayk had not only formulated his own ideas on what Chriss wanted do to Xyn (castrate him to enhance his Psionic Mutant powers) but he had also formulated what was wrong in this fantasy world into which Xyn had drawn them. The bald little Psion was backing away then, shaking. "No, Xyn," Jayk explained slowly, "That's not you. That didn't happen to YOU. You think it did, but it happened to Tym. It isn't real for YOU, Xyn, but it is for him. Tym's got some kind of ability, like a Psi but not a Psi, and he somehow bonded with you and you can't separate your Mind from his. TRY!"

Xyn thought about it, almost starting to run, when Jayk suddenly jumped him and threw him down. On impulse, he slammed his mouth down over Xyn's, kissing the struggling and confused one as the rain continued to fall on them. He took him into a lovers' embrace, and found himself not wanting to let go. On the wind, it seemed, as Jayk felt Xyn's return of the kiss, there was a voice crying out. Xyn released him and was smiling again. "Jayk, I remember! But I remember someone else too. Some man who said he loved me and took care of me, but I remember that he was a man who hated me too! Everyone hated me and I had to run away!"

Jayk nodded. "The hate is Tym's, not yours. He's never been loved. You've always been loved, Xyn, before the day I met you in the forest AND after. NO ONE hates YOU! Tym's trying to let himself love you, but he doesn't know how. When you befriended him, that great loving heart of yours went out to him! His Mind is running away with him, and he can't control it, at least that's what I think. You've drawn us both here, Xyn, trying to break away, but HE can't let you go. This is in YOUR Mind, and you have to break us out of it! Can you do that?"

"Somewhere out there," Xyn replied, pulling them both up onto their knees, "There are three paths : you and I and the trip to the transport ship, me running for my life and being homeless, and me wondering why I'm not still in the facility with Mr. Rick and the Carebots. Only one is mine. In the real world, is Tym. He needs help. Shar's there, and the rest of the gang. And other gangs. In the Ruins. And somewhere, Mr. Rick is out there too. He's the man who took care of me in the Facility. He's in the past now, but he's a part of it, too."

Jayk nodded, still clinging to Xyn as if he were afraid to let go. He didn't want to mention what he thought of this 'Rick' person; it would only hurt Xyn more. "Hold onto that, Xyn, don't lose it. You and I are the real path. The next is what Tym lived through, and the last is what he wants for both of you. I think something happened while you were taking care of Tym, something that sent you here and made you draw me in too. Maybe it was you trying to get back to 'yourself,' I don't know. Use that Psi of yours, Xyn, and break us out of here. Who knows what's happening to our bodies back in the real world?"

"I think I can," he said grimly, and with that, Xyn Psion gathered his own Will as he had felt Shar do in the past. Even Jayk felt it in his Mind as Xyn clutched his long-fingered hands in a crushing grip, pulling away from his body only enough to look into his dark, almond-shaped eyes. Xyn thought of Shar, Mr. Rick, and Jayk. He thought of Tym, and he carefully drove all of the thoughts of hate from his Mind. Focusing on those four alone, he held onto Jayk as if the world were at stake and let his Will loose.

"I loved HIM!" Shar cried, raising her face to the uncaring sky, "I loved him too, and I left him! I thought never to see HIM again, not ever, and certainly not HERE! What have I done?"

The wind picked up a bit, then suddenly there was a clap of thunder that shook loose debris from the abandoned buildings all around them. Several ran for cover, but Shar only bowed her head.

It was Chriss, the Pyro, who finally broke the eerie silence as Shar knelt weeping. He approached her slowly, and laid a somewhat long and thin arm around her heaving shoulders. Very gently, he pulled her close and let the natural warmth of his Mutant body surround her. His Psi was listening, and the thoughts and fragments that Shar was spilling, literally and mentally, were overpowering. Her use of HIM and him was, however, confusing. Chriss couldn't tell if she meant Jayk, or worse yet, his own group's leader – the big man with the cybernetic eye. Chriss had never really considered HIM very loveable.

It took some time for Shar to regain her composure. She stared up at Chriss and whispered, aloud, "His name was Kel. We met in University, and we were… we… well, we were intimate." Chriss's face flushed. At least his confusion was cured.

"He was a genius in cybernetics, Kel was. He wasn't always like you knew him, Chriss. Once he was loving, and he was loved in return. You knew him as harsh and demanding, always at work, but it was not always so. I knew a kinder, warmer Kel long ago."

The young Pyro nodded, and the other Psions got the group moving again. There were startled looks as they passed, those who knew of Shar. Her own group, thankfully, had been at the front of the line. She was sure, however, that they had heard or felt her as well. Chriss got back onto the rover, and flipped a switch which extended the seat. "Ride shotgun," he invited.

She thought about it for a moment, but Tym had gone back to his own contemplations and was totally withdrawn, his face once again buried in Xyn's shoulder.

Shar climbed on behind Chriss, and he started the rover's engine. She glanced over her shoulder to check the cargo and the two passengers, but she felt it with her Psi before she saw it. Elation. Triumph. Intense relief, but then confusion. What she saw was Tym grasping Xyn by the shoulders and shaking him, repeating his name over and over. Xyn was blinking rapidly and shaking his head while scratching at it. He was confused, but Tym was overjoyed. He was literally screaming and smiling, but he was still wary. His own Psi was also running full force – she could feel that as well. "I did it! I did it! I knew I could do it!" Tym was crying out, "Xyn, I'm sorry! Please believe me, I didn't mean to! I don't even know how I did it, it just happened! Please don't hate me!" To Shar, it looked as if the tiny little one were now even more fragile and pale than before. Blood was running from one side of his nose, and his pleas were marred by coughs.

Xyn looked around, then took Tym's shoulders in his hands. His joints ached and his body was stiff. He was also very hungry. He pushed those feelings aside, however, staring deeply into Tym's eyes. It took him only an instant to regain his bearings, and his Suit beeped and hissed at him as he moved. The aches and pains slowly subsided, and Shar felt him focusing his Psi. It was a relief, and she was overjoyed as well, but it also frightened her. What would he do?

"Tym," Xyn said in a voice dusty and rough from so many days of not being used, "Tym, listen to me!" Xyn's Psi was bearing down on the little one, Shar could feel it. She was, however, too far gone in her own despair and wounded pride to interfere. This was between Tym and Xyn, and she felt that she had already done enough damage. But something else was wrong, very wrong. Tym was frightened beyond belief, and Xyn was looking this way and that, searching. Suddenly Tym literally collapsed, shivering and whimpering, as Xyn's Psi let go. Shar felt the strange undefined defenses of the little one blown into nothingness, but she also felt no malice from Xyn. Only desperation, compassion.

Xyn was searching, both with his Psi and his eyes, but he was searching the streets and all around them as well as in Tym's Mind.

"Jayk?" he screamed, jerking his fuzzy head this way and that and scratching at it unconsciously, "Where's Jayk?!" he screamed aloud.

He was running on emergency power, and there wasn't much of that left either, as the Hunter parked his flyer on the well-manicured lawn of the new Facility #32 building. He jumped out, stretched, and trotted up the walk to the front door. He was just pulling it open when he saw them approaching and held the door open for those he met. His Psi informed him that someone in the group was very happy.

They were a young couple, and with them was a Carebot and a little one. The Hunter inclined his head politely and greeted them. "Thank you," the young lady said to him. He nodded and smiled. He stepped back a bit as the Carebot passed by last, saying "Thank you, sir." He didn't like robots. They gave him the shivers for some reason. Cyborgs, if one wanted to use the archaic term, didn't bother him. After all, all Approveds were technically Cyborgs – some more than others, but Cyborgs all the same. In fact, he himself now fell into that category. His Processor and memory chips and Nanobots qualified him for that.

"You're welcome," he muttered as they passed by him. He turned to go inside, but stopped when he heard the sound of running footsteps and felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned and looked down. The little one was short, probably seven or eight Cycles of age, and he was dressed in a plain beige jumpsuit and brown sandals. He was bald, just like all of the Facility Bios were, and his deep brown eyes sparkled. The Hunter noticed the young couple smiling back then, but the Carebot was trotting back up the walk shaking its head. "Don't bother the nice man, Edward," the young lady was saying, "Come along now!" The little XY didn't respond.

The little one still didn't move. Surely he couldn't be deaf. That would have been repaired. The Hunter probed him just a bit with his Psi, and smiled. The little Bio didn't know his new name yet. "H2!" the Carebot demanded, and the little XY snapped his head around with a smile on his face. "But he's a Hunter!" The little one replied, as if this were to explain his behavior, "He's a Hunter and he might not know! He wasn't there then!"

The young couple looked him over again, their faces awed. "Oh my," the young lady began, "You're a Hunter? Well, do excuse our new son, please. We just got ownership of him today. Our first!"

The young man was clearly embarrassed. "Dear," he chided, "the man has work to do. He doesn't want to hear about us. Come along, Edward. He has business to take care of."

The Carebot was there then, reaching out to take the little one by the hand. The Hunter swiftly scooped him up into his well-muscled arms, however, putting up a hand to stop the robot. He then looked into the little one's smiling face. "Are you hunting for N?" he asked, as the Carebot looked irritated. The Hunter enjoyed that, the very thought that the creepy robot might be annoyed. He smiled back.

"N!" The little one said again, "He got lost after the fire. Me and my dormies got out, but a lot of the older Bios got burned up. They couldn't find N, but M and O died. Well, O died a couple of days later. He was burned real bad. It even melted some of his Suit. I was burned some, but mine all healed, see?" He then rolled up his sleeves to show the Hunter the new pink skin on his arms that didn't match the rest of his white tones. The Hunter suppressed a shiver. Suits were supposed to be fireproof, he had been told.

"Shut up," the Hunter demanded of the robot, "This little fellow has something to tell me, if you don't mind."

The young man approached them, and the Hunter offered him his free hand. "Edward Daniels III, nice to meet you," he said, "And is this N-person the same one that's been all over the newscasts? Tragic! Lost, alone. Poor little thing. I hope you or someone finds him soon. Oh, and I see you've met Edward IV here."

The Hunter smiled. "Adopting?" he asked, as Edward IV rubbed at his off-colored spots. The young man flushed a bit, leaning in so as to whisper. "My wife's sterile, and well, we've wanted a little one for a long time. Money isn't the issue, but we just finally decided to adopt. They only let us have one for now, so we let the computer pick him at random. That and I sort of felt that cloning was well, rather selfish of me. The only problem I think we're going to have right off is getting him to respond to the name 'Edward'!"

"MEN!" they heard the young lady snort, already walking away. "Dear, I'm going to wait in the vehicle. Don't be long gossiping. And they talk about us… just as bad, worse even…" she was muttering to herself as she walked away and got in.

Normally, the Hunter would have been annoyed by all of this. Why did he care how much money these two had spent on buying a little one, or how they'd managed to afford one who hadn't been used for any parts yet?

There was, however, something so earnest in the little one's face. He realized that had he met him out on the streets with no ID or a Beacon that he would have just stunned him and taken him away. He would have either brought him here or sold him to a Dealer. Then he wondered… perhaps this was one of the rare babies that he had brought in in the past. Now and then, Unapproveds would leave unwanted infants out where a Hunter was sure to find them.

He looked back at the little XY and said, with some ache in his heart, "Yes, you got all fixed up really well." He made a show of examining the small, pink hands, " Now, as you asked, I DO know about N! If I find him, I'll bring him right back here. The Director wants him back, you know."

Little Edward IV, formerly known as H2, nodded. Impulsively, and not sure why he did it, the Hunter rubbed a comparatively huge hand over the little bald XY's head. "You'll have hair before too much longer," he offered.

"That's one mystery we're looking forward to solving," Edward III laughed, "Little Edward here's never had hair before. He doesn't know what it's going to feel like, or what color it will be!"

"Why's that?" the Hunter asked in an interested voice, his Psi probing delicately.

"I have to get a Processor put in my head first, and a big shot of Nannerbots!" the little one exclaimed, "Does that hurt?"

"Edward!" – "H2!" the young man and the Carebot said in unison. The little XY looked confused .

The Hunter laughed, remembering his own upgrade. "No, it won't hurt a bit," he assured the now-worried little one, "All they do is give you a drink, you go to sleep for a bit, and when you wake up you have a little tiny bandage over a little tiny hole in the top of your head and what looks like a bug bite on your arm. And the word is 'Nanobots.' Those are what keep you healthy and happy outside of the Facility. In a couple of days, you're all healed up and you can grow your hair in and see what color it is."

Edward IV seemed happy with the explanation and nodded. He then scratched at his stomach. "Do clothes always itch so bad?" he asked, "Cause if they do, I want my Suit back!" Then he looked at his hands and arms and grimaced. "And is this new skin gonna change color and match ever?"

They all laughed at that. "You'll get used to it, Edward," the father replied, "And, yes, your skin will all match up someday. They have to keep the Suit here, you know. They don't let Approved little ones have Suits. That's why you have to have the upgrade."

The Hunter thought for a moment. "If he was wearing his Suit, how did he get burnt?"

The little one's face grew distant. He looked down at the ground. "We were in bed. I wasn't wearing it, no one was. The alarms went off, but the fire was too fast. Some of them ran. I went for my Suit, like you're supposed to, but I went back for H1. I was gonna pull him out but it was too hot and… and… I couldn't hold on anymore! I dragged him some, but…"

The Hunter saw what it looked like, and as Edward IV began to cry, he gently reached into the little XY's mind and carefully attempted something that he had never done before. Very delicately, he let his Psi fall on the memories of the fire, of H1's screaming, of the burning pain in the little hands and arms. He merged himself into it, surrounded it, then imagined pushing it back a bit. Edward IV's eyes went blank, then his tears stopped and he looked confused.

Don't think about it too much, Edward, and remember your new name! the Hunter thought. The little one smiled again, nodding in delight. It seemed to have worked.

He then took aim at the new father, who seemed to not know what to do. Don't mention it to him again, whatever you do. He won't remember it very often anymore, and you'll just upset him. As far as me, you know what I am now, and I was never here. Got it?"

Very carefully, the Hunter handed the little one back to his new father, who nodded. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small mail-chip. The young man took it, staring in awe. "That's very secretive," he offered, "but if little Edward here thinks of anything to tell me about N, just let me know. Once you use it I can mail you back, or if you'd like to report Runaways or Unapproved problems as well, don't hesitate to use it! It's the duty of all good Approveds to report crimes. It also will link you to the Central Runaway Network, if you'd like to browse that for familiar faces or make a report. And I WILL let you know if I find N," he said to Edward IV.

The little XY smiled at him, swinging his sandaled feet below the crook of his new father's arm. He wrapped his arms about the young man's neck, and laid his shiny head on his shoulder. The Hunter watched them turn and go with an obscure pain in his heart. At least one little Bio was going to a good home, it seemed, and not being parted out or enslaved. The little one was still chattering as he turned to go inside, realizing that he had made himself a bit late. He didn't care though.

"What?!" the Hunter demanded as the robot turned and watched the family drive off.

"You're crying. Are you ill or in pain? I am fully trained to see to the needs of…"

Absently, the surprised Hunter wiped the wetness from his cheeks. "Shut up, I said." And with that, he jerked the door back open leaving the robot to watch the shiny and expensive auto carrying his former charge, H2, off to his new life.

He marched through the vestibule as if he owned the place, upset that his Psi had not only confirmed that the fortunate little Edward IV WAS indeed going to a loving home, but that he was also one of those abandoned Bio infants that he had brought in some years ago. He never forgot a Mind. Faces, yes – Minds, no. And with what he had just done for the little one, to his own surprise, he was sure to remember Edward IV forever.

He flashed his badge at the clerk on duty, and the inner door opened. A brief whoosh of warm air swept over him, a bright light flashed, and the opposite door opened to admit him into the Facility itself. The slight pause didn't bother him. He knew that it was necessary to insure the health and safety of the inmates who were so valuable. As he headed down the hall to the office of Director Abrams, he allowed himself a bit of musing. How many times had he thought of trying to keep one of those infants? The thought of a son, any little XY to call his own, appealed to him and he was reminded of the ancient saying, "We always want what we know we cannot have." Grimly, he knocked on Abrams' door.

The Hunter did that. He found himself in a rather spartan office with only the desk, Network interface console, and two chairs near the desk. The rest of the office was empty. Abrams, the Director of Facility #32, sat behind that desk in an off-white business suit. He was much younger than the Hunter had guessed, figuring that his mail and readouts had contained an old picture. He guessed him to be near 24 Cycles at the most, which was old for an Unapproved but young for those lucky enough to rate Implants. It seemed, as the Hunter pulled up a chair, that Abrams was making use of the Network. There was a thin and dull blue line of light running from the console to Abrams' right temple. Now and again, the light would flicker and scan over his eye. His right hand also never left the pad near the screen. He was clearly pissed.

"Fucking people pay a bloody fortune for a little Bio then show up days late to claim him! The nerve! If they're that hard up for a little one, why bother ME? I have things to do, dammit. Jesus, if I'd known that H2 or Eddie or whatever they're going to call him was so damn chatty I'd have had his voice box paralyzed for a couple of nights. They show up late and who has to take care of the little bugger? Me, of course! Can I take a Carebot to do it? Noooooo…. what the hell do I want with a little one?" Abrams ranted on and on…

But the Hunter knew he was lying. There was no reason at all that he couldn't have left H2 with a Carebot. His Psi told him right off that Abrams DID want a little one – a very specific little one. The little one he had just read about, in fact, only some days ago. He smiled. "I have an idea where N might be," he offered, interrupting Abrams' rant.

Abrams pulled his hand off of the pad and moved his head, breaking his Network connection. "Where?" he demanded.

The Hunter toyed with him. After thinking about his recent run-in with little Edward, formerly H2, he had decided that he didn't care for Abrams' tone. He himself would have taken that one home with him in a heartbeat, but that would have been a large mistake unless he could have come up with some reason as to why he couldn't bring him in. He sighed. "Guess," he replied sarcastically.

Abrams face hardened. The Hunter's Psi could feel his frustration, desperation. He was growing angry, and thoughts of retribution were running through his Mind. "That's YOUR job, dammit!" he growled.

The Hunter smiled. "I don't think I need to remind you that I'm not just a Hunter, Abrams. I'm THE Hunter, whom YOU requested. You did so because I am the best, remember? You want this brat back, remember? Yesssssss," he crooned, smiling evilly, "you DO want him back, and it is not I who forgets himself. It is YOU! Remember, boss man, I'm the Psion here. You might be able to order MY death, or worse, but not before I melt your Mind down to where even your memory chips are smoking, so don't fuck with me!"

Abrams backed down. He let the anger run out of him, calming himself with thoughts of Xyn and how he had felt before the damnable fire that had killed so many and somehow managed to get his favorite little one lost. He was still working on the problem of how the fire had gotten started, and none of it made sense. It also made no sense as to why Xyn hadn't come back. If he had survived the fire, why would he have left if he could have felt how badly Abrams was worried about him?

The Hunter was smiling, listening in to Abrams line of thought. "It doesn't work that way. You see, your little brat didn't KNOW he was a Psion. He knew he was different, but he didn't know why. You don't teach them things they really need to know, Abrams. He knew he could feel how others felt, hear their thoughts sometimes, but he didn't know how to use it. He knew everyone liked him, thought YOU loved him, but he had no clue as to why. He only knew he had to keep it quiet at all costs, because he got that from you. Now, tell me why you want him back so bad – and don't give me a line of shit about Resources and money and adoptions and such."

Abrams was shocked. In fact, he was hurt by the Hunter's ruthless invasion of his Mind. "You, sir, are a very bad man," he countered, "but I'll tell you this much. I love that little one as if he were my own. I don't know why. Maybe it's because HE made me love him. Maybe it's because he's just plain loveable. Maybe it's because I desperately want a little XY to call my own and they won't let me have one. I'm sure YOU can understand THAT one," Abrams concluded, his last remark stinging the Hunter to his very core.

The Hunter nodded, his mind racing back over and over to dwell on his own truncated childhood. He remembered being taken. He remembered his training and schooling. He remembered his castration. Painfully, he remembered it. He could relate to Abrams' desires, IF they were true. He did not, however, use his Psi to look further. Instead, he switched it off.

Abrams flushed. "Just a nickname for a nameless little Bio. The N designation fit the XY classification on paper and sounds like 'zin', don't you think? He used to laugh and say he was the only Bio here with a nickname."

Abrams slammed his fist on the desk. "Dammit, I'd like to see YOU do this job, day in and day out, and not get attached to them! And he was a Psion Mutant, anyway! How do I know he didn't do it to ME and not vice versa?"

The Hunter sneered and walked over to the window. He sniffed. "You have coffee in here somewhere," he stated, "I can smell it."

Abrams muttered an unflattering word and reached into a part of the back side of his desk that visitors couldn't see from the front. He poured two cups of the steaming coffee and offered the Hunter one. He sipped it and smiled. "Why don't YOU do MY job for a while and see if you like it any better? Oh, and before you head out, we'll cut off those annoying, heavy, dangling XY-parts of yours first so you don't damage the merchandise before you bring it in."

"N," the Hunter put emphasis on the one letter designation out of spite, "Is in the Ruins, or maybe under the Ruins."

"Simple. The place burnt, he got out, the fence had a hole in it, and he went through it. He walked into the forest and kept going. He might have stopped late that night and napped, but I doubt it. He IS wearing a Suit you know, and these damn things are indestructible. Personally, I hate mine, but I digress. He could have broken a leg and the Suit would have fixed it in a few hours. He walked and walked, then he walked some more. See, I don't think he knew he could use his Psi to feel you from so far off. What he knew how to do with it, he did in very close proximity to others. I'd say the best he'd ever done was Psi his way down a dark hall there, or knew you were coming around a corner. Hell, he'd never even been OUTSIDE before! He saw the sky and the grass and the trees for all of his life through the windows, but he never touched them! He never felt the wind or the sun on his face. He grew up in an artificial environment, reading about outside, and longing for it. Eventually, he ran out of trees and ended up on the fringe at the Flats. Now, his Suit could have protected him if he tried to cross it…"

"…my theory is either he did that, and found the Ruins. He might have felt it out with his Psi, but I doubt it. It's more likely that my other theory is true – that one of the Mutants and Unapproveds who can survive there when even most rats can't, found him in the forest while out scavenging for food. It is the right time of year for that. They would have taken him back with them, adding to their ranks you know." He paused and sipped his coffee, giving it time to sink into Abrams' mind. He could see that Abrams was making full use of his Processors with scenarios.

"You know that the Com-Tell satellite is still offline. Its orbit is even failing."

The Hunter nodded. "Yes, I haven't been able to uplink or scan the area in weeks. Odd, isn't it? And isn't it odd that the number of Hunters bringing in Unapproveds and such is falling too? They're getting scarce. The legitimate ones with ID's and Beacons in the Old City are all still there, it seems, business as usual. But us Hunters are having a rough time of it. Now, get this one," he went on, "add this all up. Then look at my vehicle's data and scans. We know we can't get from here to there, or if we did, we'd die. BUT, I wouldn't die. Xyn has a Suit, and so do I. He's also a Mutant, even though he looks normal enough. No one here but YOU knew he was a Psion. I am both of those as well – Mutant, upgraded, but I am still a Mutant. And I have a Suit. No Approved can survive in the Ruins, that's why they're all going there. The search ended at the Flats, because they assumed he couldn't go there either. The searchers couldn't go to the Ruins, but I'm sure they don't know about these Suits and what they can do. BUT I DO!"

"So, our little Xyn, as you fondly call him, toddles on through the woods and comes upon an Unapproved Mutant of some kind. They hit it off. They want him, they like him. Remember the satellite being down and no scans, and the number of captures being down? They're all going there, and he's fallen in with THEM!"

The Hunter shook his head. "Some days ago, a class 1 commercial transport ship went missing. It's still gone. Guess what? It had to fly over the Ruins to reach the Old City for which it was bound. It was a robot ship, because they don't even take chances on Approveds with fly-overs and they don't trust upgraded x-Unapproveds for the job. Put it all together, Abrams. Then link up to this code, to my vehicle." The Hunter handed him a data pad.

Abrams did that and his face went pale. It all added up. The satellite was down. There was no way to get anyone IN to the Ruins to look. No scans. No data. Unapproveds and Mutant captures falling fast. Then the transport ship going missing. It all made sense. Then Abrams hit the core of the data. He gasped. "Sweet Jesus!" he exploded.

The Hunter laughed. "There must have been 500 of them on that bridge," he offered helpfully, as Abrams viewed the scans from the exhausted vehicle. "I watched them for a long time until I got your call. Actually, I was so low on power, I didn't know if I'd make it back. We need to engineer longer range hunting craft, Abrams. Or if you've got one, I need one. This craft of mine won't do for the trip I need to make. It's built for one night, one city hunting."

Abrams disconnected from the Hunter's database. "I'll get online and get word to my friends. This is serious, Hunter. They're going there, you brought proof! Somehow they've botched the satellite and stolen a supply ship! My God, what if they get another ship down in there? They know WE can't go in after them, and the legal Unapproveds won't help us, you know! How in hell did they do it, and what does it mean?"

The Hunter's face was grim. Even with his Psi off, he knew what Abrams was thinking. Anyone would come to the same conclusion.

"It means Race Wars," the Hunter said sadly, thinking of little Edward IV and his new family.

Abrams logged onto the Network. In a few seconds, a vision only he could see was dancing in front of his mind as the scenarios he had thought up were sent out to his superiors, who in turn sent them to their superiors who in turn sent them on. In a matter of minutes, when they had all overheated themselves and some had rebooted, Abrams smiled. Then he grimaced as if in pain.

"So what do we do now?" the Hunter asked. There was a loud chime, and the lights dimmed.

"Your new craft will be here in the morning. In the meantime, I offer you the amenities of the guest suites here," Abrams replied in a strained voice, "And if you can bring me Xyn alive and undamaged, I'll trade you anything I'm worth for him. Off the record! Take him to a Dealer you can trust to hold him, but don't bring him HERE. OFF the record!" Abrams then slid down in his chair, his face sweaty. There was another chime, and the lights brightened. "You may go now, sir. I'm usually worthless for hours after I over-ride security recorders like that."

With a slow and heavy step, the Hunter left the office. He met a Carebot in the hall and inquired as to where the guest suites were. The robot took him there, and with no show of courtesy, he shut the door in its face. His thoughts were dark as he slid out of his Suit and headed for the shower.

If a Race War came, and many had said that it would long ago, then the Approveds would lose. It didn't matter what they called themselves – Approveds or Cyborgs. The Unapproveds, or just plain old ordinary people with no Implants who could survive without them, had obviously had enough repression. The Hunter had seen the Old Cities, and he didn't blame them in the least. He also couldn't blame the Mutants, Runaway Approved or not, and the Ruins – East and/or West – were perfect staging arenas. Approveds simply couldn't survive in the Ruins, and not long in the Flats surrounding them. There were far too many Remnants and Leftovers hanging around just waiting to infect someone. Only the various tribes of Unapproveds could survive there, and they were obviously pissed.

As he got into the hot shower and the soothing foam covered his body, the Hunter sighed. He rubbed it into his skin, tingling, being careful of his head and his new and fashionable short crewcut. He knew the foam would strip him of hair, but he liked having hair on his head. He smiled, wondering for some odd reason if Xyn's hair had grown back yet. Surely it had. Then he wondered why he had thought of it, and remembered all of the pictures that the Network database had generated to help him find the little Bio. He continued to scrub, and as always, he shivered as his hand passed over his smooth and empty groin area.

He gasped. It had been seventeen Cycles past, but he still remembered being told at the age of 14 Cycles that he was going to train for a new career. He still remembered being told that this would require him to be castrated, genitally nullified, and how it had made him feel. He had wanted to run, but after his arrest, he wasn't dumb enough to do that. He had known then that if he ran, he'd be hunted again and killed when caught. The same line of thinking still applied. It hadn't worked the first time, and it sure as hell couldn't work if tried again. He knew that he couldn't change careers if he wanted to.

That, and at almost 32 Cycles, he was only beginning life as an Approved. In theory, the Nanobots could keep him alive for centuries if he had the right upkeep. He sighed again, scrubbing his crotch harder. If anyone could, HE could afford the upkeep of his new enhanced body. The question was, why would he want to? He rubbed harder, thinking of how he had been able to once take his penis in his adolescent hand and stroke it until it was throbbing and hard. He would lay in bed at night, some lotion on that hand, and think of XX's and XY's both of his own age. He would think of how he would have his way with them, how they would have their way with him, all the while stroking his penis and squeezing his testicles. He rubbed at that area now, but there was nothing there to touch.

His body began to tremble a bit as his desires rose. He thought of the ones he caught, how he got such a thrill when he stunned them. He thought of the few times that he had seen a Dealer actually cut an XY, making an e-XY as Dealers called them. He trembled and gasped as he thought of how they had done his own castration, under local painkillers. They had put him to sleep to install his Processor and inject his Nanobots, but for the nullification, he had been wide awake. They had simply numbed the area after strapping him down to an operating table. The shower they had given him had removed all of his hair, which was another shock. A simple device much like a tongue depressor had been stuck down his throat, which he found had paralyzed his vocal chords so that his screams would not upset the medical staff nor disturb their work. He had watched in horror as the nurse slid a length of tubing up and inside of his penis to drain his bladder. The tube looked like metal, but it had been flexible and left in place. Then the doctor had simply gone to work with a lazer scalpel. It had taken only seconds to remove the scrotum and testicles, which were removed separately from his penis.

For an instant, he had thought that they weren't going to remove his penis after all. He could still hear the doctor saying to someone, "Take these to Cryo, they have a backlog of orders for good young balls. Make sure they zap the Nanobots out first, though." Then he had watched, silently screaming, his chest heaving, as the doctor took his numbed penis, limp and sad looking, in his hand. "You'll want to watch this son. I hoped you jacked off and enjoyed it in your room last night, because you'll never do it again." And then he had simply moved the lazer around the base, letting it burn down a bit to remove the core as well. His penis slid very slowly down and off of the metal-looking tube and that was the last he had ever seen of it. Mercifully, he had passed out when the nurse had applied the dermal regeneration salves and triggered the Nanobots inside of him for severe bodily trauma protocols.

The next day, he had awakened to find himself wearing the white Suit. He would later learn what it was for, and why he could not take it off without authorization. He could still recall the shock and fear he had felt when he had rubbed at his groin through the fabric of the Suit and felt nothing there. Then he thought of the last orgasm that he had, the night before they had taken him. It had felt so good… He remembered crying then, even at fourteen Cycles of age, for days.

He had seen it all with his own eyes, and thanks to his memory chips, he could NEVER forget it. Why they had not put him to sleep for the nullification surgery, he didn't know, and had never asked. He had been told that it was part of the job for which he was to train, as well as because he was a Mutant Unapproved being upgraded. He had been too afraid to question anything, and out of fear of what else they might do to him, he had kept quiet.

He rubbed himself all over, one hand reaching up to pinch his nipples and then move down to run his fingertips gently over his smooth and flat stomach. It gave him the shivers, and he recalled doing this as well, back before they had cut him. He would stroke and stroke and do these other things, until finally he would fire seven or eight jets of thick white semen into his blankets. He was now aflame with desire, fantasizing, his memory chips replaying the castrations and nullifications that he had witnessed. He abused his nipples until they ached, rubbed at his vacant groin until it actually hurt, but he could get no relief from the feelings that drove him. He was filled with high levels of male hormones from the Suit's medical programming, but as driven as he was, he was helpless to escape. There could be no fulfillment, and even though there was nothing wrong with his prostate, the thought of something invading his ass made him almost ill. This he wrote off to childhood trauma with most of his medications having been administered rectally. That and the enemas, which had seemed to be the cure for anything. They had also given him many enemas before his upgrade, and the trauma of that cleansing session was still with him. He simply could not stand anything near his ass.

Yet as he cursed those who had done this to him, he began to wonder if he could work up the nerve to try it. It had possibilities. He had once fantasized about it, but he had been quite young then. He had heard that an XY could get off from having another XY screw his ass. The Dealers all told him that as well, that the ones who bought the little e-XY's were going to do that to them, and genitals or not, they would learn to take pleasure in it. But that was another lifetime, and he had never even been with anyone before they had taken him from his parents. There was a voice speaking to him…

"Shower time expired," it said, and he realized that he was now drying under warm lamps. He ran his hands over his smooth and hairless body, flexed his large and well-developed muscles, and punched the wall. His snarl of rage would have frightened anyone into flight, but the room was soundproof. His face did not change emotions as he heard and felt the bones in his hand shatter. The pain, however, so great and powerful, flooded through him. He saw sparkles of light before his eyes. He flexed the ruined hand as best he could, and his bladder voided itself, sending a hot stream down the insides of his legs. The shower kicked back on and off when he was clean again, but the pain had done its job – his sexual passions and desires were gone.

He moaned softly, going back to his bed and letting the Suit envelope him again. Within seconds, it had begun to heal his hand and killed the pain. It also sensed his tension levels and stress, and he activated a manual over-ride to release sedatives into his bloodstream. In moments, the Hunter was asleep and dreaming.

Chapter Seven
The Wind Begins to Turn

The Hunter heads for the Ruins in search of Xyn, but finds something else instead. Xyn, having recovered his senses, heads off on a quest of his own.

"The fire still burns, til the wind begins to turn,
and it all begins again."
– Roger Daltrey, After the Fire
Under a Raging Moon, 1985

Abrams shook the Hunter's hand as they paused at the door of Facility #32. A cold, late spring rain was falling steadily over the well-manicured lawn, a field of green grass that none of the little inmates had ever played upon. Abrams sighed, knowing that the Hunter was probably reading him like a book. He did not, however, care. All he cared about was the Hunter's tale of where Xyn might be, the threat of a coming Race War, and how that tale could very easily be the truth. 'Maybe we should let them play outside now and then,' he thought. What was awaiting them on that lawn was the Hunter's new craft. Its silvery hull glistened in the rain and shone their reflections back at them despite the relentless cloud cover.

The Hunter whistled, and Abrams thought he could almost feel the delight coming off of him. That, of course, made him think of Xyn again. "Find him," he said, as he and the Hunter stepped out into the steady rain to inspect the craft, "Find him and bring him back to me." Abrams was suddenly glad of the rain, which had started the night before; it hid his tears from someone that he didn't particularly care for, but someone that he needed nonetheless. As if to change the subject, he added, "It's got multi-cell fuel packs, solar collection capability, and full Network interface with satellite uplink. It can have you over the Ruins in just under 6 hours. Pulls some pretty awesome 'G's' too, even if it does look sort of retro. Of course, if they don't get the Com-Tell satellite up and running again, the latter won't do you much good and you'll have to rely on the library banks in the craft's memory. The onboard computer is also voice actuated, like your old one. Kind of looks like a miniature Old World fighter jet, no?"

The Hunter turned. "Yes, it does. I like it. I keep forgetting, your old place was built a lot farther out than this one. You're actually here in civilization! Never did figure out why anyone would want to put a Facility for these little Bios way out there. Security issue? Remoteness? Oh, and by the way, we're being watched," he added.

Abrams looked confused, then the Hunter gestured up at the building. The second story window overlooking the lawn was lined with small faces, noses pressed up against the glass. A few of them waved.

Abrams sighed again and nodded. "We wanted somewhere out of the way, is all. Figured it was safer. In the end, it was that remoteness that did us in. No one could get there in time to really help us. I still can't figure out how the damn fire could have started and spread so fast, though. It's almost unnatural. I should have known that Xyn would wander if he got out. He was always so fascinated by the nature studies." Again, Abrams looked up. He waved back. "The rest of the controls of the craft are all the same as your old one. Don't wreck it, please, they're in short supply. If Xyn weren't considered so dangerous now, along with the rest of whomever is out there, you wouldn't even know this craft existed. It's frightfully expensive, you know." And with that, Abrams turned to go back to his office and wait. No one else on the Network had been able to help him, and now this Hunter – no, THE Hunter – was all he had left.

The Hunter paused for a moment, considering. Then he thought of little Edward IV. "I WILL do my best to find him, even though I'm not sure why. I don't fully trust you, and what this place does makes me sick to my stomach. I've avoided using my Psi to find out your reasons for wanting this one back, simply because I think I'd sleep better at night if I DON'T know why. However, it's not MY place to judge whether you love him for himself or for what he can do for YOU. What your industry did to ME is unforgivable, but it's been a great career so far. I have everything that money can buy – almost. It's really a good life, in most areas. And don't worry about your damn craft, either. I've never crashed yet. Oh, and if there's no pressing parts extractions to take place, you might want to let the inmates up there watch the take-off."

Abrams let the door slide shut without replying. He was angry at the last remarks, and he was sure that the Hunter could feel it. He was toying. That had to be it. Abrams carefully ordered his thoughts then, immersing his mind in memories of Xyn and the old Facility. He felt almost abstracted, taken aback somehow, at how clear the memories seemed. It was almost as if Xyn himself were there to clarify them, and he almost expected to feel that small, warm hand slip into his own at any time. A wave of melancholia swept over him as he watched the rain fall onto the clear glass of the bay window by the door. He watched the Hunter board his new craft, almost like a little one with a new toy. The Hunter was just closing the hatch when Abrams fell to his knees. His Mind was suddenly filled with a terrible scream – a scream of indescribable loss and terror.

On the lawn outside, the craft's hatch suddenly flew back open as the Hunter stood bolt upright in the pilot's seat. He was looking this way and that, his head snapping back and forth and his hands instinctively going for his weapons. His Psi reached out, and his defenses raised. He remembered his mistake near the bridge on the far edge of the Ruins, and he was not about to repeat it. He stealthily hid his own Mind while he listened with his ears and his Psi as well. But then the words ceased, and only a confused welter of emotions came to him. Panic was the foremost, followed by a wrenching feeling of loss and despair. Brief flashes of young faces crossed his Mind : a young woman with dark and flowing hair, a small and emaciated little XY, a small XY with freckles, orange hair and blind white eyes. Then finally another XY or XX, he couldn't tell, with darker skin and long braided black hair that pulled back from pointed ears.

He sucked it in as a man starved for fresh air would gasp. A wry grin crossed his face, and his Psi locked onto that anger. He turned his head towards the Ruins, staring off into the general direction with his eyes closed. If the steady rain bothered him, he didn't show it.

He smiled fully then, turning to wave at Abrams who was staring out a window across the rain soaked lawn with a look of recognition on his face. He mouthed one word, and the Hunter nodded.

Putting her own personal guilt and pain aside, Shar tried to quiet Xyn's outburst. If the little Psion were not stopped, then every other Psion on that side of the continent would soon be able to pinpoint their location, not to mention the Hunter whose Mind she had touched briefly some days ago. However, it was no use. After his initial scream, Xyn had turned his energies inward and let loose his Mind in a way that had nearly bowled Shar over. It had, in fact, knocked some of the weaker Psions in close proximity unconscious. As she struggled with Xyn, Shar saw that Chriss had slumped over the steering controls of the rover. She also realized that her group of Psions that were coordinating the large group of Outcasts would be useless until she could calm Xyn down, and without them, there could be no organization in a convoy so long.

Tym, the strange little one that Xyn had befriended before his catatonic episode, was also unconscious. Blood ran slowly from one side of his nose, and he had lost most of what coloring he had had to begin with. Xyn was holding him close, however, unaware of – or unconcerned – with the fact that Tym has sneezed blood all over his Suit. Shar was able to tell that Xyn had gathered something useful from Tym's Mind before he had passed out, and she was almost afraid to know what it was. She did, however, have a good idea. Given the temerity of Xyn's outburst, she was – for the first time in years – unsure if she would be able to contain the situation.

Steeling herself and reaching over Tym, Shar grasped Xyn by the shoulders and shook him violently, her Psi coming to full power in an instant. With her mouth as well as her Mind, mentally and verbally, she tried to get through to him.

Xyn's eyes darted this way and that, and the lashing of his Psi was almost like a whip upon her skin. Tears streamed down his face, only to be swallowed up by the rain. He was shaking. "Jayk?" he said aloud in a frighteningly quiet tone, "He's not here!? Where is he? I have to find him!"

"Xyn, listen to me! We had to leave him behind," Shar explained, tightening her grip on him. He didn't seem to hear her, though, and he continued to sweep the area with his Psi and mumble. His words were incoherent. Again and again she tried, but Xyn would not respond. He hopped down off of the rover and began to walk around it in a circle. He looked under it. He walked around it again. All the while, he still hadn't put Tym down. It was almost comical, Shar thought, were he only not so agitated.

He was still casting his Psi out, harder than ever, and Shar shivered at the amount of strength that the little XY was exerting. He was pushing himself even harder than when he had reached out to the gang on the bridge, and he showed no signs of letting up. His eyes were growing wide and wild looking, and his mouth was open with his lips pulled back in what resembled a snarl. Foam was forming up in the corners of his mouth, and try as she might, Shar could not get through to him. Over and over she tried, finally throwing caution to the wind in favor of the group being found. She drew in a deep breath, and her eyes met Xyn's.

There was no understanding in them as he stepped back from her, placing Tym ever so gently on the back seat of the rover. He began looking here and there again, his movements making almost no sense.

Then Shar brought the full force of her Mind down upon him, her tears of regret and despair hidden by the rain. She remembered doing it to Jayk in an attempt to stop his attack upon Kel.

Xyn gasped, sinking to his knees at the back of the rover and trembling with his efforts. Shar felt his Mind beginning to power down, then up again, and she felt the depth of his confusion and rage. In amazement, she realized that the tactic that had worked on so many others in times past had only hit Xyn's Mind and bounced off. 'Ye Gods,' she thought to herself.

The little Psion was shaking his head and mumbling, the rain water running down and dripping off of the tip of his nose, when she finally decided to employ the oldest cure for hysteria known to man – she reached out and slapped him across the mouth.

A small hand slowly came up to touch his stinging lips, and the Suit extended a glove over it.

You hit me, the stunned thought came to her, and she realized that, very probably, no one had ever struck Xyn before in his short life. It was something new to him. He wandered back to the rover, hand still to his mouth, and climbed back up to take Tym in his arms again. He began to rock.

I'm sorry, she replied, More sorry than you can know. I didn't want to hurt you.

But Xyn was still shaking his head, his light brown hair grown back out to a quarter of an inch [6 mm] of soft and soaking wet stubble. In his arms, he held the insensate form of Tym close to him and moaned. You left him! came the accusation, followed by a fresh wave of tears. You said no one can cry here, before, when I came with Jayk! You said! I cried 'cause I thought you hated me then and you told me I couldn't cry!

But she had made her decision, and while her later outburst of regret might have undermined her authority with the Leaders of the other gangs, she would not cast the rest of that respect into the winds by going back on her decision. There was too much at stake, too much to lose. The cargo was far too important, their location too important as well. They had done so much work – hacking the ship's computers, sabotaging the Com-Tell satellite, coordinating the others to come. And there was still so much more to do.

That big man was going to leave ME! Xyn cried in the silences of their Minds, he said to leave me behind and Jayk wouldn't have it. He didn't want Tym either. Jayk couldn't help it, he didn't know! He didn't know what to do! He was scared! Then when he saw what he did… he… he c-couldn't stand it. He was so scared of what he became! He wanted YOU to make it all better and you left him there!"

You cannot even begin to understand the import of the loss of Kel, she lashed back at him, her own anguish over the loss of her past love coming to the surface again. Her heart ached, and she was frightened. Carefully she concealed the plans that she and Kel had made, what Kel had already seen to, and how easily things could fall apart with his loss. She prayed fervently to every Deity that she knew of that Xyn wouldn't pick up on it. Obviously he didn't as he went on.

I don't care! Xyn stated, getting some control over himself, When I came here, you took me in. Jayk told me what it was like, how people like me and him and you were looked down on, feared, hunted because we're different. He made me understand what I was. He told me about being a slave and how you rescued him and how you had this plan to bring all the Outcasts together to make a better life. Were you lying then? Are you lying now? What about Tym? He demanded, looking down at the pathetic little one in his arms and hugging him tighter, Will you leave him behind next if the rover gets low on fuel? He burned himself out helping me come back from where we were, where you don't even know we were! You don't KNOW what was wrong with me, you only know Jayk thought enough of me to do what he did! Tym saw it all, and he can project it to others. He did me, he showed me. Jayk expected to wake up with me and you and have you make it all better! But what did he get? He woke up in a bloody gutter, cold in the rain, probably too weak to even crawl to shelter and all alone! And YOU let it happen! He trusted you, he worshiped you!

The image from Jayk's mind, the image of a Queen, came to Xyn then and he threw it at Shar.

Shar winced, the enormity of it all coming to her in waves as Xyn shared with her what Tym had given him. She understood Tym then, and began to grasp the edges of Xyn's apparent illness and Tym's strange power. Were the circumstances different, she would have found it enticing.

The convoy had stopped then, many of the Outcasts having gathered nearby to witness the silent exchange. The Psions who were still standing were all pale and shaken, and many of the others were hiding behind them. They all sensed that whatever was passing between Xyn and Shar wasn't good, and they were unsure of what to do. Finally, someone came forward and took Tym from Xyn's arms. Another pulled Chriss off of the rover and carried them to the cracked and broken sidewalk under a tattered awning to care for them. Xyn watched them, offering no resistance. He could feel that they only wanted to help. Then he looked back at Shar, his Psi beginning to power up again and turn backwards along their route, desperately searching, hoping. The amount of adrenaline-fired Will was amazing, and Shar's Psi pulled away from it.

I have to find him! Xyn almost begged, and Shar could feel fear as well – fear that he would have to fight her in order to find Jayk. She didn't want that. Carefully, she reordered her thoughts.

You will do yourself harm, Xyn Psion, as well as alert any other who is like us as to where we are. Remember the Hunter? He will sense you. Yes, I made the decision to leave Jayk behind. I regret it, more than you can know! I loved Jayk in ways you cannot know, but the man he killed, Kel, was also very dear to me. I knew him for uncounted Cycles, and I loved him. I was intimate with him. Had things gone differently, he might have been my Husband. Our plans here may be damaged now, perhaps beyond repair, but I cannot and will not give up what we have here. What I did, I did for the good of the group. And it pains me.

But Xyn was shaking his head and rocking again, and Shar finally saw what the others had seen on Xyn's face all along. No longer was he the innocent little one from a Bio Facility, lost and alone. No longer was he frightened and unaware of what he could do. In a flash, Shar saw the images in his Mind of he and Jayk in that strange place. She saw the waters and the wild, the cobalt blue of the perfect sky, and the deep green of the soft grass. She knew where it was, and she knew what Xyn and Jayk had felt for one another. She saw their naked bodies, or rather, their bodies-of-the-Mind, entwined in the grass in the grips of passion as the rains washed the blood from their skin. There was love there, as she looked deep into what Xyn wanted her to see, love that was almost a tangible thing. There was sex, confusion, pleasure – but more than anything, there was healing for both of them.

Her own personal anguish was multiplied as she realized how Tym had been the one to send Xyn there, accidentally, and how Xyn had called Jayk there to help him. Of course, it had to be Jayk; whom else would Xyn call out to? She realized at once Tym's potential, how it had all been an accident, and how devoted Tym had been to bringing Xyn back. The frail little one's cryptic replies and his staunch resistance of her were now so clear. The enormity of her mistake weighed even more heavily upon her as her Mind instantly equated her own feelings for Kel to those of Xyn for Jayk. In her quest for the overall good of the larger group, she had forgotten her original goal – the day to day well-being of her own small group of little ones.

Xyn Psion, I am so sorry, she offered, but it is days hence, and the rains are cold. The winds have turned, and the savage Season comes upon us soon. The rains are only the start. The green spring is a fickle time, and we must be underground here to be safe. Even with a rover, it will take you days to make it back to him. This I know you wish to do, but it would be a waste. He will be dead before you arrive.

The words struck Xyn harder than the slap to his mouth had, and his shoulders slumped. His Suit hissed and beeped at him again, and he pulled up his hood, folding his gloved hands in his lap. Shar recalled seeing, before, that his nails were turning blue. And so was the Suit. Much had been taken out of Xyn during those interminable days of catatonia, and probably Jayk as well, she assumed. Her glimpse of that wild place had astounded her. Then she remembered the blue glow when Xyn had put his wondrous Suit on Dan to heal him. It had glowed blue then, and Xyn had said that it was having a rough time with the wearer. She realized that the Suit was working hard on Xyn now. Yet somewhere, days back, Jayk lay exposed in the cold rain.

Xyn was exhausted, and his head felt as if it were about to split open. He had rested his head on his knees and continued to rock back and forth. His whole body cried out for food and rest and warmth, and try as he did, he couldn't shake it off. Shar moved towards him, and sensing her approach, Xyn drew his hooded head up sharply. The rocking and moaning ceased.

"Stay away from me," he warned in a low and squeaking voice, "Don't ever come near me again."

Shar stopped. There were gasps from the others, and Xyn looked up to see that Chriss had recovered himself and was leaning up against a wall holding Tym in his lap. Small curls of steam rose off of both of them, and for an instant, Xyn longed for that warm embrace. Please take care of him, Xyn sent to Chriss, Don't let anyone hurt him. He's been hurt so much already! The Pyro nodded, his strange pale eyes flashing.

"What is this?" Shar demanded, suddenly feeling overly tired and not understanding why. Xyn gestured vaguely, and she turned and looked around. She was met by gaunt faces and travel stained clothing, each worn by someone who had trusted her and believed in something better. They might have been Mutants and Outcasts, but the journey was wearing on them. In her battle with Xyn, and in her own obsession with returning to safety with the stolen supplies, she had not noticed it before. The weariness of the entire convoy came over her as she reached out to them all, this time not in an effort to coordinate tactics. Her Psi passed over those both familiar and strange, and all of them seemed to be saying rest, we need shelter and rest – it's cold – I'm tired…

"Oh, I'm sorry," Xyn said sarcastically, "Who were you planning on leaving behind next?"

"Inform the group to seek shelter in the buildings. We will resume at dawn," Shar said with her voice and her Mind as well.

"Xyn Psion," she demanded, as he hopped down from the rover, "What are you about?"

"It outta be obvious," he snapped without facing her. And although his knees buckled and he was shaking badly, he flatly stated, "I'm leaving. I'm going back for Jayk."

"Jayk is as good as dead," Shar retorted, "We took care of you while you were indisposed, gone to that strange place of the Mind. But no one was there to take care of Jayk, and the cold rains have not let up since he…" but she could not finish the sentence. She didn't even bother to try and use her Psi nor explain the coming Storms. The thought of Jayk lying in the gutter as the rain fell steadily on his body was almost too terrible to bear. How long could someone, even one as hardy as Jayk, survive before dying of exposure? If Xyn was in such bad shape, mustn't Jayk also be? She also realized that Xyn was 'eavesdropping,' and she was amazed that he had slipped into her Mind to see the vision.

"It's not that far!" Xyn objected verbally, "We crossed the Flats from the Forest and got back home in one day!"

"And it took all day!" Shar retorted, "And you took Jayk's shortcut! You went the other way, Xyn, not THIS way! You also went underground and out a sewer pipe, not overland. Where you were was the short stretch of the Flats, and it took Jayk months of searching and sunburnt skin to find it. True, the Forest extends there towards our Ruins, but this is the far side – the most barren area. That's why we brought the ship down here, because it is so inaccessible for outsiders. It's hard enough to get to once one is IN the Ruins! You've been unconscious for days on end while we traveled back with the cargo! You have no idea of the time and work involved!"

"But… but… I could…" Xyn grappled with the idea, his voice breaking off into thought. For all he knew, she might be right. After all, he was a stranger to the Ruins. He tried to remember how long it had taken to get to the ship in the first place, and it seemed so long ago that he couldn't remember it exactly. He sniffled.

"And whose fault is that?!" He demanded, his voice breaking and his eyes filling with fresh tears.

From behind her, Shar felt sorrow and loss. She also felt suspicion and fear, and she knew that her authority was in question more than ever before. Soon she would have to meet with the various Leaders of the smaller factions that she had called to join her and explain it all. But how could she explain it to them when she could not explain it to herself? She had seen the chance and taken it, but had she gambled too much? Cut her time too short? If only Kel were still there!

Xyn's mind was made up, however, and from what Shar had seen, a fight would only impair them both. There was no way she was going to be able to convince him otherwise. He simply didn't grasp the notion of direction and distance. The group could do without one or the other, but it did need a strong Psion in case the Hunter came. Once again, Shar relived her decision to leave Jayk behind as she watched Xyn turn to go.

He left them as he had met them – with nothing but his Suit. He didn't even have a pack to carry supplies in. As the entire convoy sought shelter for the night, unpacking blankets, food packs, and such, Xyn disappeared in to the gathering darkness without so much as one look back. If anyone noticed the faint blue glow of his soiled Suit, they didn't know what it meant. He felt a few of them saddened as he passed them, but most were simply afraid or too exhausted to care. He made it almost two whole blocks along the way they had come from before he collapsed, shaking uncontrollably, in the recessed doorway of some long-forgotten shop.

"Jayk…" he moaned weakly as his Suit struggled to stabilize his fluctuating vitals, "I'm coming, Jayk!"

Back at the rover, Shar turned to Chriss and Dan. "You want us to go get him now?" Dan asked, having come back from several blocks up at Shar's urgent summons. She nodded, noticing that Dan was panting. He must have run all the way. She smiled at that.

"He won't speak to me, but perhaps you two can persuade him when he fully recovers," she replied in voice filled with pain.

"The head of the convoy is almost home," Dan mentioned, "I thought you should know. We're less than a day out here at the very tail-end."

Shar smiled a weak smile. "It will be good to be home. We WILL beat the Storm after all. Find him, my son. Bring him back to us before he does himself harm."

"Follow me with your Psi," he told Chriss, taking off at a dead run, "He can't have got far," he called back.

" 'My son?' " Chriss asked in confusion, "You talk fancy a lot, but you've never called anyone that, even when you don't know a guy's name."

Shar seemed abstracted, lost almost, and Chriss knew that her Psi was running only hard enough to keep in touch with the rest of the convoy. He could feel their relief as well, and was looking forward to his own bedroll.

He knew that it really wasn't his place to pry, but his sudden elevation to Leader of his gang had given him some courage. That and he thought that he had felt something else. He watched as she nodded gravely, then suddenly buried her drawn and worried face in her hands. She sobbed once, then regained her composure.

"That is because Dan IS my son," she announced, "and Jayk, whom I loved as family until he changed, killed Dan's father."

Her words struck Chriss almost physically. He had no idea what to say, but then, people had sex – they had little ones – it was natural, he guessed. He just hadn't considered Kel that type of Adult, and he couldn't see it. The fact that Kel had managed to develop a relationship with someone like Shar amazed him, but he decided to drop it. He didn't like to think about things like that.

Shar noticed his puzzlement. "It was a long time ago, Chriss," she explained, "And I know things like this make you uncomfortable. The Kel that YOU knew was not the Kel that I knew, though. He was wise, thoughtful, caring. You knew 'Kel the Outcast gang Leader.' I knew 'Kel the enlightened and gifted University student.'"

Chriss nodded and picked up a small pack and turned to follow him, but Dan was already gone, vanished into the darkness. "Wow, that kid can RUN now!" he observed, his own limited Psi locking onto Dan and following him.

Shar smiled. "Had Xyn not arrived when he did, he would not even be here, much less running after his fleeing savior," she stated, "And there would be another vacant space in my heart. Only a few weeks ago, Dan was almost too ill to even stand."

"He's powerful, Xyn I mean," Chriss offered, not wanting the former topic to continue.

Again, Shar nodded. "I owed him a debt, the very first day I met him," she mused, allowing herself a few tears, "And how did I repay him? I allowed my own grief to cause the death of his best friend. He restored my son to me – unasked and out of pure love – and I repay him by taking his only remaining love from him."

Chriss flushed, having known that Xyn and Jayk were lovers. He continued to follow Dan's movements with his Psi, thankful that he had it still and how he had discovered how to maintain it. It was nothing compared to his Pyro capabilities, but at least it hadn't faded away as he had seen it do in many others.

"He was very sick," Shar explained, "with a Remnant. It had settled in his lungs."

Shar nodded. "But his father was NOT a Mutant, and only his enhanced Nanobots kept him alive here in the Ruins. As I said, he was a genius in nanotechnology and cybernetics. Dan inherited the Nanobots in the Approved fashion, after all, we were both Approved before going Runaway. Dan has a Processor and Nanobots to sustain him, but something is wrong with his system. His Nanobots aren't keeping him healthy and doing the proper repairs. That's why he got sick, and his Approved body began to degrade. Perhaps it was because he was born here in the Ruins, I don't know. If only Kel were there, he could have repaired him, I'm sure, but alas… ah Kel…" her words broke off, and she began to muse.

Chriss immediately switched off his limited Psi. He looked back at Shar, and realized that she had noticed. He flushed again.

"I'm sorry. Kel told me all about it, Chriss. I know of how you submitted to castration to preserve your gifts and prove the theory, and that is commendable. I also know how you feel about the subject of intimacy, so we'll drop it for now. Go after them."

"But what if Xyn was even more powerful?" Chriss asked, knowing that his own mental clumsiness would probably betray his idea anyway.

Shar thought for a moment, recalling the force that she had had to use to reach Xyn in the climax of his fury. "Then he would be almost invincible," she replied, "For I almost could not reach him as he is now." She paused. "Ah," she then realized with a small start, "I now know what you are thinking, yes! But keep in mind, Chriss, just because castration was right for YOU does NOT mean that it is right for every Mutant. It is not in the heart of everyone to make such a sacrifice. So few have a love so great."

Chriss nodded. "We need to talk about THAT then," he said, setting off to follow Dan.

The Hunter made a side trip when he realized just how much of a craft he now had. Not only could it get him to the Ruins and back without running out of fuel, but as the old saying went, "Getting there was half the fun." He flew the craft up high until the lights of the Facility looked like so many fireflies on a summer's night. He could see them, and could also see the tiny pinpoints of light that indicated the New City. He had plans for this hunt, and he was going to need some help if he were successful. He began his descent at a speed that was less than prudent.

He was grinning like a little one on Unification Day when he parked his craft in front of a seedy-looking tavern in the heart of the New City and went inside. Loud music blared from hidden speakers, and the Hunter thought of small animals being tortured. Of course, he stopped to watch the show taking place on stage and awaited a break in the music to order a drink at the bar. As he slipped the waiter a gold token worth more than a case of the beverage, he whispered, "Tell Acer I'm here." The waiter smiled and asked how he should be called. "Tell him the dude in the white Suit is here to deal," the Hunter replied with an evil grin. The waiter fled.

On the stage to his left, several women were throwing various items of clothing into the riotous crowd. They were shapely and beautiful, and the Hunter wasn't sure which upset him more – the lewd women on the stage, or the even more lewd young men on the floor cheering them on. A familiar sensation began to overtake him, and he knocked the drink back in one gulp. He tried to grip a on his nerves; he simply didn't have time to bust up his hands again and let the Suit repair them. The music and the cheers were near deafening, and his head was beginning to ache a bit. He wondered if it was from the noise, the frustration, or his wild ride there. Fortunately, the waiter returned promptly just as a very dark skinned lady with unbelievable breasts threw her bra into the cheering crowd. An Unapproved with a soon-to-expire work permit caught it and pressed his face into the large, warm cups. The Hunter sneered.

"Acer says to come up at once!" the waiter replied, glancing at the stage with a smirk. "My, and it's so early in the day too!"

The Hunter made his way up a well hidden staircase in the back of the bar and arrived at Acer's door. He didn't bother to knock – he simply went in. He was expected. When he entered the room, bare of furniture but for a desk with a Network terminal, he was greeted in a loud voice from a very fat man. "Ah, so good to see you, Hunter!" Acer called out, rising ponderously up from his desk and severing his link to the Net. "What goods have you brought me this afternoon, and so early too?"

The Hunter glanced around the familiar room. Only a few nights before he had brought the little Nightstalker here to the Dealer. He was familiar with the place, and Acer was his favorite Dealer. He glanced at the one door and the plain walls with no windows. He knew where that door led. He also knew that the room was totally secure. "You busy in there?" he asked.

Once they were inside, the fat man smiled. "Why so secretive, my friend?" he purred.

The Hunter's Psi told him that Acer was almost in a frenzy. Sneaking around appealed to the fat man, and the Hunter wanted him keyed to a fever pitch. That way, he knew he could trust him. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small data chip. Acer recognized it as a limited funds transfer module. He smacked his lips, almost drooling in anticipation. The Hunter waved it, and the fat man snatched it up and pocketed it. "Aren't you going to verify it?" the Hunter teased.

"Oh, dear, no," Acer replied, "I know YOU, my friend. Tell me what you need, and I'm sure the chip will pay for it!"

"That's why I like you," the Hunter said, and his Psi told him he had nothing to worry about. Not yet, at least. "Alright, here's the deal. I'm off on a hunt. A very special hunt for a peculiar little one. He's a Bio, Runaway, and he might be a Mutant too but that's classified. When I find him, I'm bringing him here…"

"The usual?" Acer interrupted, his eyes darting to a small panel on the wall. The Hunter could feel his anticipation and sexual arousal. He shook his head.

"No, not in the least. Very UNusual, in fact. When I bring him here, you are to keep him out of sight at all costs. No gelding, no reselling – because I'll be back in a few days for him. I need you to hide him for me. Oh, and one other thing. You'll have to use the neural inhibitor on him at ALL times."

Acer gasped, a fat hand going to his throat in mock consternation. "DO you know how much those COST?" he groaned.

"Don't fuck with me Acer, I know you have one. Just remember, no gelding! If the little XY has so much as a pimple when I get back, I'll liposuction your ass down to nothing with a garden hose!"

Acer snorted. "You're no fun at all, you know," he sighed in a wilting voice, "I haven't had a single deal since you brought me that nasty little Nightstalker Mutant a few nights ago." Then his eyes brightened. "You wouldn't believe how he begged and pleaded when I got the tools out! He offered to do things that scared even ME!" The Hunter could feel the sheer delight in the Dealer, and he also could guess how many of those favors Acer had made the little one perform before he'd gelded him anyway. It was just how the Dealer was – make them think they were going to get out of it then cut them up anyway.

The Dealer nodded. "Complete genital nullification, cryo storage of the balls. Sold those online the next day. A couple of hours later, I had the little eunuch all freshly healed and in the arms of his new Master. It was love at first sight! You wouldn't believe what those glowing eyes can fetch when they see them glow! And the agility! My goodness, I think the little bugger could suck a fellow off and scratch the back of his head with his toes at the same time! They just love those Nightstalkers, almost tireless!. You want to see the video?"

The Hunter smiled. "No. You know, one of these days, someone is going to figure out that they got their replacement balls for their defective little Approved XY from a Mutant, and when the grand-little one is a Mutant too, they are going to be PISSED!"

The Dealer laughed until he was wheezing, leaning back and deploying the control panel. A vicious looking exam table just the right size to hold a little one slid from a hidden slot in the wall and he sat down heavily. The table creaked. "That's the beauty of dealing underground! We replace the future stock!" he declared, laughing again.

The Dealer's laughter died at once. "You have my word, Hunter. Your little Runaway Bio XY will be as safe with me as if he were my own son."

The Hunter snorted, but his Psi told him that the Dealer was not lying. He could be trusted.

"I'll be back within the week," he warned, "Just remember what I said. If he IS a Mutant, that neural inhibitor will be your only chance of survival." And with that, he stalked out of the room and back to his craft. The Dealer watched him go, fingering the funds transfer chip and sweating.

When the Hunter arrived at his craft, he jumped in and ordered the computer to set a course for the Ruins. Whatever data Abrams had had the thing loaded with, it didn't argue. He told it where to go, based on the location that he had visualized from his Psi when he had heard Xyn's voice in his Mind. The craft rose into the darkening sky, still gray from the seemingly endless rain, and set off at maximum velocity for its destination. The Hunter leaned back and clapped down his visor. He called up various displays as the computer flew the craft. He even allowed himself the luxury of a short nap after reviewing everything that he could find on Xyn, or 'N-Runaway-32' as the computer referred to him. After awakening, he yawned and stretched and called for a proximity check. He didn't really need it.

As he glanced out the window, which cleared itself of the rain streaks at his command, he saw the Statue. Long ago, they told him, the Flats had been a harbor that had expanded into a deep blue ocean. In the midst of the harbor, someone had put up a huge statue of a woman with a book and a torch. The Hunter slowed and circled the statue, actually in awe of such a creation. True, time and the elements had not been kind to the lady. Many of the points of her crown were gone, and the torch that she still held aloft even after the BioGenic Wars no longer glowed. The Hunter circled her again, his face awed.

Remembering the poem from his school days as best he could, he looked into the unchanging and somehow sad eyes of the lady statue and said, "I will take your poor, your tired, your weak and huddled masses, dear Lady, since it seems that they still come to you, even now." He then continued on at a slower rate towards the Ruins, dropping into stealth mode as he approached the shore – or rather, where the shore once was. Looking down, it resembled a steep cliff that was overrun in brambles and brush. The buildings stood in and behind the wild growth, and he climbed higher, activating his scanners for any Bio-signs. He almost missed it, thinking something was wrong. He just couldn't place it, however.

"Transponder data, weak signal encountered, debris, chemical residue," the computer piped up.

But the Hunter interrupted the helpful computer as it finally hit him. "The missing transport ship!" he breathed.

"Affirmative," the computer replied, "Auto-destructed. Correction. Transponder indicates coded message, standby…"

He stared. The skyline of the edge of the Ruins was all wrong. There were some buildings missing, he knew. He'd been there and scanned the area not that long ago. That, and the Brush line seemed to have suffered a fire. "So that much is true," he sighed, thinking of the supplies that someone had to have run off with. It was another piece of evidence that fit his theory, and he thought of little Edward IV again.

Finally the computer spoke. "Unable to recover data. Transponder components badly damaged. Data missing. Code unknown."

The Hunter snorted and continued his work. Another piece of his theory confirmed.

It took him almost four hours to get any readings as he scanned the buildings and below ground as best he could. Then he cursed himself, remembering that this craft was far superior to his old one and that he needn't scan the same areas twice to be sure. When the red light blinked and the computer chimed in, "Bio-signs detected, humanoid, Mutant, port side, aft," he jumped a bit. Night was falling, and the Ruins were taking on an even more haunted look. He was thankful that here was no moon to illuminate the windows in the amazingly tall buildings. "Change course to intercept," he ordered, and the craft did that.

He stared at the controls, wondering why the readout didn't change. Normally a Bio-sign didn't hold still; it was always moving, running, hiding. This one, however, didn't. "Second Bio-mass detected," the computer reported in its genderless voice, "Humanoid, Approved, XY, deceased. Time of death, four to six days. Amend : Runaway Approved. Close proximity to Bio-sign one."

The Hunter gasped. One dead, one alive? He verified. As he moved in closer, his craft making almost no noise and running with no lights, he focused the sensors to a tight pattern. The snow on the readout screen in front of him slowly cleared as he drew closer. He looked into the image of broken windows and cracked walls. The streets were deserted, with only fragments of debris here and there. The street scene he viewed looked basically like the New City streets, only dead. Here, there were no lights, no running vehicles, no happy people running the sidewalks day and night. Here there was only death, desertion, emptiness, loneliness… and surprisingly – longing. But here was where Xyn was, and RIGHT here was where a Mutant was, ripe for the picking.

He was no fool, however. He slowly brought his Psi up to power, cursing how long it was taking him these days, and defended himself. He would not be caught unawares if SHE were out there, if SHE knew he was coming and was setting a trap. When he felt ready, he drew closer. The image on the screen zoomed up as the sensors compensated, and the Hunter swept the area with his Psi as well, softly, so as not to attract attention. He felt life, but that was all. The sensors were correct – one dead, one alive – but just barely. The second life-sign wasn't moving because it was injured and near death. Very near.

He was ready as he set the craft down in a littered alley and disembarked, one hand on his weapon, the other on his vizor which linked to the craft's sensors. Slowly, still sensing the area and the Mutant in general, he approached. His booted feet made no sound on the pavement, and he wondered why these two would be out in the Ruins alone and one of them dead. As he got within range of his own two eyes, his questions were answered.

The dead one lay on the pavement, his head near the gutter. The rain that had fallen for days on end had washed most of the blood from his stiffened and pale corpse. The Hunter gasped as he saw the cause of death, the throat totally torn out by – it seemed – some animal. "Runaway Approved," he breathed, staring down at the cybernetic eye which had gone dark upon death, and the real eye which stared blindly up at him with a cloudy cast. The mouth gaped open as if in shock. Apparently, this Adult's last thought having been that he just couldn't believe that he was dying. To the Hunter it appeared as if this dead Adult were still crying out for salvation, the hands curled into claws that might have been reaching skyward. He shivered and swept the area again, then gently nudged the living Mutant with his black leather boot.

He rolled it over with his boot, aiming his weapon at it. He gasped and jumped back when he saw the face. It was dressed in colored clothing meant to match the Brushline, and at first he assumed it was an XX by the long braided hair. The Mutant's almond shaped eyes were closed and mucous had crusted around those eyes and the nose both. It was slim and just a bit more than a little one, although clearly not an Adult. A pair of white and sharp looking fangs hung from its upper jaw, and it was what remained on and around those fangs that shocked the Hunter so badly. In an instant, he knew that he had found what had killed the Adult. In all of his time as a Hunter, he had never seen anything like it. There, near the half-open mouth of the Mutant, were the remnants of the Adult's trachea and larynx and a sizeable portion of the jugular vein. All of the blood had drained away, but either from the rain or from having been sucked out by the Mutant, the Hunter had no idea. He steeled himself and nudged the Mutant again, pulling the gore from around its mouth and hurling it aside.

It was either a good trap, or the Mutant was in no shape to put a fight. Still, a stun from his weapon would no doubt finish the Mutant if it were really in the shape that it appeared to be, and he consulted the computer via the vizor. "Confirmed," the computer replied, "vital signs dangerously low, death imminent. No threat." The Hunter smiled, holstering his weapon and kneeling down over the Mutant. He'd be paid more if the Mutant were brought in alive. He sent his Psi into it, cautiously, and was shocked to find some semblance of consciousness there. He was also shocked to find that it considered itself an XY. He probed deeper, and although he was trained not to empathize with his prey, he could not help but feel for this one. Something horrible had happened on this sidewalk there in the rain, something so unspeakable that the Mutant actually longed for death. He didn't actually care, but he DID want it alive when he took it in. Besides, if he were to collect the pay, he would have to take it back with him and it smelled bad.

"I hate maintenance," the Hunter muttered, "Alright, you, don't move, IF you can move."

Carefully he stripped the smelly clothing from the Mutant as his Psi probed further. He nudged its Mind a bit, and he was again shocked. It was conscious!

The Hunter shook his head, ignoring the pain and vast sadness he felt from the Mutant, and continued to strip the clothing off of the not quite-little one. He was thin, and he could count ribs. It was obvious, from the pallor of the skin and the blue nails, that he had been laying out exposed for a while. Spring had taken a chilly turn, and while the Storms were not yet due, the rains were cold. The Hunter was glad of his Suit as he felt the Mutant's clammy skin. He gasped as he cut the brush-patterned pants away. This Mutant believed, from what his Psi had told him, that it was XY. Clearly it was XX. Then he looked closer at the vacant groin, feeling it carefully with a gloved hand. He felt shame from the Mutant, but ignored it. The genital area, or lack thereof, resembled his own too well. He heard a slight groan.

"Well, do tell!" the Hunter mused, his smile going unnoticed, "what are you, Mutant? Were you born that way or are you a Runaway e-XY?"

No. I am a Psion, a Hunter, not an Exterminator, the Hunter offered, but you knew that?

More sadness and shame, emptiness, despair. It was such a stark contrast to the last emotion that he had felt with his Psi, the pure happiness of a little one about to be upgraded. He wondered at it for a moment, then shook his head. He didn't have time to dwell upon it.

Then the Hunter spied the fountain, full to the top with the cold rainwater. "What you need is a good bath," he said to the nearly insensate Mutant, "because I can't fly you all the way back to a Dealer like you are now. You'll feel better when you're clean, trust me."

There was a long pause, so the Hunter simply picked up the naked Mutant and carried him to the fountain. He dunked him in the cold water and began to scrub him with a cleanup kit he always carried in his pouch. It wasn't the first time he'd been faced with the prospect of a long ride with a dirty capture. It had happened once, and he certainly wasn't going to let it happen again! The Mutant gasped, the eyes snapped open, and he stared full into the face of his captor. He did not, however, try to struggle. His thin but lithe body remained limp in the Hunter's Suit-protected arms. He seemed to know, and the Hunter could feel with his Psi, that he was far too weak. He seemed to be sniffing at the cleaning solution, then the Hunter's Psi informed him that he was slipping down into total unconsciousness. He felt relief then, and some comfort.

He was meticulous as he hurriedly scrubbed the Mutant down. His gloved hands ran over every inch of the slim body, feeling the ribs, squeezing the arms, noting the beginnings of musculature. He washed the face, noting the alluring shape of the eyes and cleaned off and under the delicate nose, being careful of the sharp fangs. He ran a hand over the smooth chin, beardless, and thought of what it must be like. He felt himself confronted with familiar feelings of frustrated arousal as he scrubbed at the long and lean legs, and he paid particular attention to the backside and the smooth area between those legs. He wondered how old the Mutant was, and how old he had been when he had been captured and gelded. Whoever had done it had done a professional job, obviously with modern healing tools. There was almost no scarring at all that he could see, in fact, the Mutant's gelding looked to have healed up better than his own. It wasn't hard to mistake an e-XY of such quality for an XX. Where the penis should have been, there was only smooth skin over slight indentation and no sign at all of a scrotum nor testicles. The Hunter felt down a bit further, and found the relocated urethral opening near the anus. Just like his own. He wondered if the Mutant had been conscious as he had been, forced to watch someone steal his impending Adulthood from him. "I hope you weren't," he whispered.

He sighed, then thought of the money that this one was likely to bring. He grinned.

He quickly finished up and rinsed the Mutant clean, washed the solution out of his long hair the best that he could, and carried him back to the craft. He opened up an emergency kit and pulled out a thermal blanket, wrapped the little e-XY in it, and strapped him into the passenger seat. As an extra precaution, he put a set of cuffs on the wrists and ankles then secured the blanket again. He then applied an emergency med-spray to the Mutant's neck, dosing him full of nutrients and drugs and rapid healers. The computer soon beeped in alarm. "Pure Bio-sign, Unapproved Mutant, XY, age 15 Cycles, +/- 1. Dehydration, starvation, musculature cramps, chills, severe exposure. Decreased neural activity. Recommend spray #3 as well, feeding kit, warmth, rest." The Hunter did as suggested, opening the emergency kit again and placing a padded cuff around Jayk's arm. The cuff had a tube that led into a small box in the bottom of the pack, and the Hunter winced when he activated it. He knew that a needle was entering Jayk's arm and forcing desperately needed fluids and nutrition into him that a shot simply couldn't match. He turned up the heat, shivering again at the thought of what might have been Jayk's most recent meal.

For how long they sat there, the Hunter didn't know. Long enough for the feeding kit to recycle once. He wanted details from this one. If 'they' had left him, then 'they' had to be near. No one could survive the savage Season rains or storms for long as this one had, left all alone and helpless as he had been. He assumed that 'they,' meaning others including Xyn and this Jayk character, had all been together and somehow been involved in the disappearance of the transport ship. Obviously, they had raided it and carted off the booty, wanting to get back home before the Storms came. The ship had then been auto-destructed, leaving a large gaping wound in the Brushline at the edge of the Ruins. It was just all too perfect, what he had seen so far. And with the amount of cargo the ship had been listed as carrying, they couldn't be moving very fast if they had wasted none of it; and surely they hadn't. They couldn't afford to waste anything. He agonized over the decision – continue on after Xyn, or take this one for the money? Risk a Storm? How close they all had to be, Jayk's group that had abandoned him, as well as the ones he had spotted crossing the bridge! But they were many and he was one. And were they armed? And what if SHE was, in fact, aware of him now?

He dared not power up his Psi, however. He had let it idle down while cleaning up Jayk and the thought of how effort it would take to bring it to full power was disheartening. Besides, he didn't want to announce his presence in case SHE was out there, or in case Xyn was really that good.

From time to time, as the computer scanned the area for more life signs, the Hunter checked his pathetic catch. A few times he even reached out a hand, having retracted the Suit's gloves, and touched the sunken cheeks and the feverish brow. He wondered what it was like, to live this type of life. As the computer scanned and searched, he wondered why anyone would HAVE to live like this. It didn't seem fair, how a select group of people had simply embraced their technology and ideals and disregarded and abused anyone who didn't follow suit. The New World Order of Kadens the Unifier had taken over, but how many had it left behind when the dust of the BioGenic Wars had finally settled?

As the Hunter gazed upon Jayk's sunken but soft looking face, he wondered how anyone could simply turn his back on a little one – or an Adult, for that matter – and force him to live in substandard communities, Old Cities, or simply on the streets like an animal. It was sad, he thought, how so many of the Approveds wanted that very thing while others bred them like rats and then threw them away to be hunted down… as he himself did for a living. Again, and not knowing why, he thought of little Edward IV and his new parents. What had happened to THIS one's parents? Was there any way to know? Probably not. Was there an end in sight to it, which would mean the end of his career?

It was paradoxical, he knew, and while he was confused, he found that he didn't care. There hadn't been much thrill in taking this one. Had they been as thrilled when they had taken him so long ago?

But he also wondered what it was that the Mutant had experienced that had forced him to kill – or made him WANT to kill – the Approved Adult as he had. The Hunter shivered, remembering the vacant eye and the agape mouth. He then muttered an oath and sent a Scavenger drone out to pick over the dead Approved's corpse.

It then occurred to him to try and find out who the Mutant was. He had said he was Jayk, but a search for "Jayk" yielded too many results. He then pulled Jayk's head forward a bit, held his eyelid open, and scanned his retina. After a few seconds, the computer went wild with data. It beeped and blinked, an alarm sounded, and suddenly it said, "Jayk Norreth, Unapproved Mutant, Runaway Slave, pure Bio, New City Far-South. E-XY. 20 Cycles missing from legal Master. 13 Cycles in custody. Age : approximately 15.68 Cycles real time, error +/-1. Slow Mutant, chronological age unknown. Previous Hunt scans indicate 97% chance of failed capture. Facial features…" as if the Hunter needed it. Jayk was sitting right next to him, and the silly computer had even come up with several pictures as well. It was the phrase "Slow Mutant" that had caught his attention. He smiled. "You're worth a fuckin' mint, kiddo," he chuckled, already thinking of the next bits of data. He knew how much Slow Mutants were worth, especially little ones. Sure enough, within seconds, the computer had come up with the name and address of Jayk's former Master.

"Sweet Jesus!" The Hunter breathed, staring at the sum of the reward. It made his normal pay pale in a huge comparison, and by Approveds standards, he was loaded. It DID make Abrams' offer for Xyn pale in comparison, and that amount had almost frightened him the past day. Could ANYONE be that rich?!

There was a 'clunk' sound from the rear of the craft. The Hunter flinched and swore. "Scavenger Drone returned," the computer happily reported.

The Hunter nodded. "Close all hatches, secure all systems. Prepare for takeoff, full-auto. Plot course to New City Far-South. Normal cruise, then maximum speed when we clear the Brushline. Engage."

The computer did that, and within minutes the craft was high over the Flats, speeding along towards the statue of the lady with her book and battered torch. While the craft flew on auto-pilot, the Hunter looked at the images. They showed Jayk clothed, naked, intact, cut… several combinations, in fact. He began to sweat and his Suit hissed. "I can see why your Master wants you back so badly!" He said, passing a hand to his crotch. He snorted. "And I know how you feel."

Jayk didn't reply. His soft even breathing, marred only by an occasional wheeze, told the Hunter that the drugs were taking effect and that his captive had passed into exhausted sleep. They flew on as the Hunter read more. It seemed that Jayk had a record, or a suspected record, several kilometers long. Of course, a Slow Mutant WOULD have that kind of time. "Is this Master still alive, even?" he asked, growing bored with the legal details.

"Affirmative," the computer replied, "Everett T. Wilson, Approved XY Adult, age 118 Cycles, Maintenance verified. Address verified. Send message?" The Hunter declined, still deep in thought. He checked his own messages, but found nothing.

"Negative," the computer's genderless voice replied, thinking it was being addressed, "The age of the Hunter is Approved low, estimate 85% remaining with Maintenance."

It had been a brief trip, and while he had not found Xyn, he had found something else.

Then he heard it, coming to him faintly in the corner of his Mind where his Psi idled when it was only 'listening' and not 'sending'. It was faint, but it was close. Jayk… I'm coming, Jayk! Then it was gone, the 'sound' of a Psi fallen into unconsciousness. For a moment, he thought of turning back.

"N!" he gasped, keeping a tight grip on his own Psi, but knowing that he was surely within a day's walk of the Runaway Bio. For a moment, he thought of waking Jayk.

For a moment, he thought of filing the required mission reports that were his duty.

He smiled again, reading on about Jayk's unique history and growing all the more frustrated as the winds began to turn and jostled the sleek craft.

Chapter Eight
Fallen Angels

The Mutant Outcasts arrive home, and the Hunter has a chat with his capture. Xyn faces Shar and Chriss, and finds his little friend Tym in need of his help.

"I'm losing control,
a Stranger
in a state of Change -
locked in the rift between Heaven & Hell,
like a Fallen Angel."
– Roger Daltrey, Under a Raging Moon

It took Chriss several minutes to locate and to catch up with Dan. Fortunately for the young eunuch Pyro, Dan hadn't been able to outrun his limited Psi. Chriss was hot and sweating, despite the cold rain, when he found Dan going over Xyn with a medical scanner from the stolen transport ship. Dan was shaking his head and his expression was grim. Chriss had, of course, been generally aware of their locations, but since his limited Psionic abilities required him to be very close to someone to fully feel them, he was taken aback when he got close enough to Xyn to sense his thoughts.

As Dan read the scanner's data and wondered what to do, Chriss skidded to a stop and gasped. Xyn seemed unaware of their presence, and while his Mind was there and intact, it was – at the same time – not there. Chriss could feel that Xyn was still sweeping his Psi out as hard and fast as he could, and his body was paying the price for it. The sheer force of it, which had knocked him unconscious during Xyn's confrontation with Shar earlier, forced him to his knees. Sweat dripped from his greenish tinted skin, and he shook. It was not from the cold, but from the Psionic force. He thought briefly of his comments to Shar about what could happen if Xyn were to become even more powerful, and he covered his ears in an automatic gesture that did nothing to stop the mental onslaught.

Xyn was mumbling incoherently, but as Dan continued to scan him, Chriss' Mind could plainly hear Jayk, I know you're there! I know you are! I'm coming, Jayk… please! Don't give up!

But it was not the volume, so to speak. It was nothing like the deafening roar of the collapsing tower or the explosion of the ship that had taken it down. It was the emotion. Xyn was in terrible pain, and in reaching out so desperately with his Psi and not taking the time to focus it, he was projecting that pain onto any Psion in range. Chriss wondered how Shar and the other regular Psions could stand it.

"Knock him out, Dan, quick," Chriss whimpered, sinking to his knees in the damp rubbish near the doorway where Xyn had collapsed.

"I don't know, in his shape, it might hurt him," Dan protested, injecting Xyn with a Bio-stabilizer. He scanned again. "It didn't help."

"You've got to shut his Mind down, Dan. He's running it wide open, and he's going to kill himself if you don't!"

Dan looked confused, unable to appreciate the psychic cacophony that Chriss could hear as well as feel. "Dude, he's been a zombie for a week now. How can he be so worn out? He hasn't moved a muscle. I don't know what to do! These readings look like he's run until he's fallen over, but there's no reason for it. It's like his body is just totally drained. It's almost the same as the little Tym fella's readings! I think I'd better call Mom."

Chriss shook his head, his wet white hair sending droplets of steaming rainwater off in all directions. He was heating up in sympathetic response to Xyn's pain, unable to focus enough of his own Mutant ability on his own control. "No," he gasped, fighting for control as Xyn's Psi assailed him, "He was IN some place formed BY his Mind. His Mind's been running full blast all this time, and it's tearing his body up. His Suit can't keep up! Find something in that med-pack and knock him out NOW!"

Dan stared at Chriss in shock at his sudden aggressive tone. He then seemed to realize that the bigger boy was in genuine pain, and he did as he was told. He pulled a hypo-spray from the pack, pulled down the high and snug collar of Xyn's soiled Suit again, and pressed it to his neck. Xyn gasped and turned to face him, momentarily lucid before the drugs took him. His face was drawn, and the rain obscured his tears. His voice wavered and cracked as he faced Dan, the little XY whom he had risked his own life to save. A brief vision of Dan, so near death and so weak, flashed through Chriss' Mind. Dan's eyes grew wide, and Chriss knew that Dan had seen it as well.

Then the little Bio's wide eyes faded from blue to dull gray and his head wobbled. He slumped forward with a sigh. Dan caught him, his own eyes wide and his mouth open. Chriss let out an explosive breath of relief.

"N-no one's ever d-done that to me but m-my Mom!" Dan stuttered, shocked at the strange Presence that had entered his Mind.

"Yea, she told me. I forgot. You get used to it though," Chriss shrugged, getting to his feet and helping Dan pull the now-unconscious Xyn up with them. They soon realized that that idea was not a very good one.

"He's in bad shape, according to the scan," Dan offered, "And his Suit's glowing blue. They said it did that when he put it on me, and I was messed up bad!"

"Why don't you run back and get the rover?" Chriss suggested, "Leave us a thermal blanket out of your pack and I'll take care of him until you get back. We sure can't carry him all the way back."

Dan nodded and was suddenly gone, his ability to run still taking Chriss by surprise. From what Shar had told him not long ago, the malfunctioning Approved little XY was lucky to even be alive, much less be running as he did. Chriss thought about it as he wrapped himself and Xyn in the thermal blanket. He focused his Pyro abilities down to a small point, and within moments, both of them were steaming and soon dry. Chriss then slid them back further under the doorway's awning to get out of the relentless rain. His eyes scanned the sky for traces of the strange glow on the old buildings that would herald the arrival of the first Storm, but he saw nothing. He sighed in relief again, happy that Xyn was unconscious.

Leaning back against the old creaky door, Chriss marveled at the power of Xyn's Psi. He had been in the presence of Adult Psions before, and Xyn was hardly 15 Cycles at the most. His potential, Chriss realized, was truly frightening. As was his pain. As he stared out into the darkness, Chriss carefully kept his on limited Psi off of that pain and simply reflected.

From what he had been able to feel, when Xyn was not knocking him flat, Chriss was now convinced of Xyn's dedication and depth of love. He had never felt anything quite like it, being a Mutant Orphan himself. It was a good feeling, but given the absence of the one who was the focus of the feeling, it soon turned to unbearable pain. Certainly, Chriss was loved by and did love other members of his gang in return, but nothing could have ever prepared him for Xyn's feelings for Jayk. It was as if the Beast Mutant meant more to Xyn than his own life, and Chriss sensed a terrible void somewhere inside of the sleeping little Bio's Mind. Upon closer investigation, he saw that it was a void that had grown.

Someone important was already gone, and now Jayk was gone as well. His eyes filled as he slowly pulled his limited Psi back in and hugged Xyn closer to him. Dan would return when he returned, and no sooner. He pressed the fuzzy and velvety feeling head of his charge into his shoulder and thought about the pain and what kind of love must have inspired it. He could still hear the agony in the mental wailing, those desperate and unfocused calls to Jayk that he could never know whether or not ever made it to their destination. He had never felt such pain in his life; not even when he had been castrated. And although it made him uncomfortable for no good reason that he could express, Chriss hugged Xyn tighter. Any Mutant's life in the Old City, or worse yet, the Ruins, was often filled with pain. This he knew too well.

"But we never caused any more to each other," he mused, staring into the darkness unafraid.

He wasn't afraid of the dark; there was nothing to be afraid of. The littlest of the little ones might think that there was something out there in the dark wanting to get them, but Chriss knew better. Nothing could live in the Ruins, except for their own gangs of Mutants. Then he remembered the Hunter, wondered if it were true, and began to wish that Dan would hurry it up. Unpleasant thoughts of 'the Boogeyman' stories came to mind, and Chriss powered up his Pyro for assault just in case…

He then reached out a bit to locate him, and his Psi soon fell upon what felt like Dan and Shar. He smiled and relaxed a bit, feeling Xyn's heartbeat slowing as his body began to try and repair itself. He heard several hisses and soft beeps, and realized that Xyn's Suit was doing the best that it could to stabilize its wearer. "I wish I'd had this thing when they cut me," he mused, as his mind began to wander.

He had been almost 14 Cycles of age when he had decided to do it. No one had forced him. It had been voluntary.

Chriss had opted to prove a theory that he and some of the others of his gang, Kel included, had been working on. Kel, himself not a Mutant, was fascinated by the abilities that most of Chriss' kind had. They were also a bit concerned, especially with the Psions, when some of the more promising little ones began to weaken in their ability at the onset of puberty. It never seemed to affect the XX's; only the XY's. There also seemed to be no set pattern; some lost it earlier, some later. A great deal of discussion had been devoted to it, and as to why so many Adult Mutants lost their abilities. Still, despite their best efforts and research, it remained a mystery.

Then they had run across Adam, a Runaway Unapproved with a startling history. Upon hearing Adam's amazing story, a whole new twist was given to the theory of XY Mutant ability loss. Kel, being a genius of nanotechnology and cybernetics, had listened intently to the little one's story of how a Hunter had captured him in the Old City, sold him to a Dealer, and how the Dealer had made an e-XY of him at only 6 Cycles of age. As was the usual procedure for selling a little XY as a slave, the Dealer had fully emasculated Adam, leaving no trace at all between his legs that he had ever been born as an intact XY. Adam had told them that his Master had been very happy with him, until his 12th Cycle.

Up until then, he told them, his life had mainly consisted of keeping his Master happy. This included not only being a sexual toy for him and his friends, but also accompanying him as sort of a trophy or pet and acting as a serving boy when he wasn't needed in bed. Adam recalled that at first he had been frightened and miserable until he began to realize that he would be rewarded for good behavior and well taken care of. It was somewhere around his 8th Cycle that he learned that he could break things without touching them, but this information he concealed carefully. He had known what a Mutant was, and he was more afraid of his Master finding that out than he was afraid of his Master's whims in general.

Then one morning Adam awoke and found himself not feeling very well. His behind was sore from an unusually heavy round of sex the previous night, and his back hurt. His head was throbbing, and as his Master came to him for their morning bath ritual, the little one had politely asked if he could stay in bed. At first, not being taken seriously, Adam had found himself scooped up in his Master's large arms and carried to the bath. He didn't recall much thereafter, only that his Master had insisted upon more sexual exploits in the heated and bubbling tub and how terrible he felt. He did remember crying, trying to push his Master away, when things had started exploding.

It seemed that each throb in his aching head detonated a bottle of some kind of product on the bathroom shelves. Then the window had blown out. The door went next. Adam could remember his Master's cries of surprise and alarm when the commode erupted in a fountain of water that sprayed up to and off of the ceiling, soaking the entire hallway. He remembered hearing "Add-ee," his Master's pet name for him, over and over again. He remembered feeling those strong hands holding him by his upper arms, and how badly his shoulders ached. Yet the only other thing that he could seem to recall hearing were the sounds of shattering glass. And then one word…

His Master had then called for an Exterminator, and for the first time ever, Adam had seen him afraid. He wouldn't come near him, yet he kept his distance and stared at him as if unsure what to do. When the destruction of the interior of the house had finally stopped, Adam sat with his back to the wall of the hallway, panting. His head no longer throbbed, and although he was still sore here and there, he felt better.

He remembered the look on his Master's face, and the terrible sound of his voice when he had asked, "Master, W-what's wrong w-with m-me?"

"You're a Mutant," his Master had told him in a dangerously quiet tone, wielding the shattered leg of a priceless antique table as a weapon, "But you won't be for long!"

And although he wasn't sure that he could do it again, Adam tried. Faced with no other choice, he had simply knocked down the walls and run away while his Master called threats after him. He had dodged Hunters and Exterminators for weeks on end before ending up in the Old City and finding another of Kel and Chriss' gang to take him in.

Chriss recalled being embarrassed at the story, but Kel's eye had gone wide. His artificial eye had remained unchanged. Very quickly, he had jacked into his own portable computer and begun running through the medical records of their own gang. Of course, those records were not that detailed, rudimentary at best, but they were enough. Chriss had recognized all of the names, and when Kel had finally finished searching and filtering he presented his theory : when a Mutant XY hit puberty, his abilities began to slowly weaken. By Adulthood, the buildup of testosterone would not only cause things like hair loss, but loss of Mutant abilities as well. Kel stated that the proof was all around them, Adam's story making it fairly obvious.

In Adam's case, he had reached that point and puberty had not been able to happen since he was a eunuch, or an e-XY as they were often called. Somehow, Kel theorized, Adam's Mutant abilities had more than made up for his lack of maleness. They had suddenly come to life in violence, manifesting themselves in a fashion that no one had ever seen before. The corollary to this was that since Adam could never reach puberty, his abilities would never begin to fade. In fact, as they observed him in daily life, it seemed that his abilities grew stronger with age instead of fading. Of course, teaching him control then became the paramount issue.

As he thought back on it all, Chriss could still hear Kel saying, "But one case doesn't prove anything, really. We'd need more cases of castrated XY's to prove it, even though it certainly all fits together! Think we'll get any volunteers?"

Of course he had been joking, but Chriss had taken it seriously. He had been, at that time, in the very grips of puberty himself and finding that he didn't like it. His voice was breaking, his greenish tinted skin was beginning to grow hair here and there, and of course his genitals and sex drive were both growing as well. He had often found himself distracted, and the increasing erections bothered him. More and more often, he found himself fantasizing instead of concentrating on his tasks. Then there was the masturbation issue. Like any other XY, Chriss found that he liked the feelings of stimulating himself to orgasm, but not the other feelings that went with it. He felt dirty and ashamed, not knowing why, and only wanted it all to stop. Yet he couldn't stop.

It had taken him a few months to find the pattern, but Chriss then realized that they were only hitting him when he tried to burn things or reach out with his Psi. True, he knew that he wasn't a gifted Psion; setting fire to things was his real talent. But each time he began to heat up, his head began to hurt. He also realized, after several months of nightly masturbation, that he often heated up unconsciously. After the first accidental combination of orgasm / bed fire in his room, Chriss had known that something was badly wrong with him and had to be cured.

The young Pyro paused, reaching out into the darkness again. He could feel Dan's elation of driving the rover, and knew that it wouldn't be long. He ran another scan of Xyn, who seemed to be stabilizing, and huddled back under the blanket with the Psion again to await Dan. Although he didn't really need the thermal blanket, he knew that Xyn did and despite his own discomfort, he didn't move. He let his mind wander back to his melancholy thoughts as he stared off into the gloom, listening to the constant fall of the cold rains and trying to sense whether or not the Boogeyman was out there. "Now where did I get this silly idea?" he asked himself.

Chriss remembered explaining it all carefully, citing the headaches he was having when he used his Pyro or Psion abilities. He confessed to his 'sins,' as he saw them, and expressed his concerns over his loss of control and setting his room on fire. He also remembered the shocked look on Kel's face when he had closed his arguments with the statement that he felt that he should be castrated as soon as possible, not only to relieve his own increasing problems with puberty, but to help prove the theory as well. That, and he hadn't wanted to lose either his Pyro talents nor his Psi, to say nothing of burning their hideout down!

Of course, Kel had been very reluctant and asked that Chriss discuss it with the rest of the gang. It was a touchy subject, especially in light of Adam's recent arrival and his own tale of being sold as a slave. Adam had been invited to the discussions as well, and Chriss had spent a great deal of time talking with him. This only strengthened Chriss' resolve, however, as the thoughts of what Adam must have gone through excited him. He twisted and turned in his seat, and finally admitted that he was becoming aroused at Adam's story. Some of the gang laughed, others didn't. He recalled being ashamed of himself, yet he didn't give in.

Adam had brought up several points, and one by one, Chriss had validated them in his own right. The entire gang, still in some shock over what had been forced upon Adam, nonetheless listened to their companion and his words. They were all too close not to, as strange as some of them thought that it was.

The inability to father children didn't bother Chriss, and the loss of sex drive and erections was exactly what he wanted. Besides, bringing more little ones into such a life as theirs was NOT something that Chriss approved of. The chance of loss of muscle tone bothered him a bit, but a few of the more educated members of the gang thought that that problem could be overcome via diet and exercise. Proving the theory was merely a sidelight, and if it DID increase his abilities, then so be it. It was not something that was ever going to be forced upon any of the XY's, little or not, and the fact was that it MIGHT prove useful. One by one, the rest of the gang – Adam included – began to run out of reasons as to why Chriss should NOT be castrated as he wished.

Finally, they had all agreed that it WAS the young Pyro's body, not theirs, and that if he truly wanted it, then he should have it. If he thought he could deal with the physiological changes of castration, then all of the agreed that they would think no less of him. In fact, a few of them even commended him, citing that if it could save his abilities then it SHOULD be done. Chriss recalled feeling as if the weight of the world had fallen from his shoulders. Adam's expression had been a mystery however. He could still hear the little Bomber – as they had named him for his explosive talents – asking, "So when you wanna do it, Firebug?"

Chriss smiled as he remembered the nickname that the little Bomber had given him back then. He wondered what Adam was up to, and tried to remember where he had seen him last. He decided that it was during the journey back after the unloading of the cargo transport, not long after Jayk had killed Kel. In fact, hadn't Adam used his abilities to knock some lesser debris out of the way of the larger vehicles? Chriss thought that he had, and made a mental note to look him up once they were finally moved in at Shar's place.

Unconsciously, he ran a long-fingered hand over Xyn's fuzzy scalp and sighed. He was warm and finally dry, and he could feel Dan coming closer. He could also feel the elation. "I'm driving back," he said to Xyn, who of course didn't respond, "I don't trust his driving. He's like a little one with a new toy!"

The castration had taken place that night. The more Chriss had thought about it, the more certain he became to do it and get it over with. There were certain disadvantages to it, however. For one, his gang had no technological medical equipment. A very sharp utility knife and a precision cyber-tech service laser were the best that Kel could produce from his stores, along with some very strong whiskey that he had kept for many Cycles. Also, Chriss was an Unapproved which meant that there were no nanobots in his body to speed his healing. He would have to suffer the pain and heal up in time, just as any other Unapproved would have to recover from any injury. There would be thread stitches, which many viewed as so very antique; but then again, no one had a dermal regenerator on hand. The last problem was that none of them, except for Adam, knew anything about castration nor how it felt.

Finally, Adam spoke up, his face red. "I guess I can. I was awake and forced to watch when the Dealer cut me, and my Master used to take me along to watch some of his Dealer friends cut up other XY's. I don't think I can cut your penis off, though, Firebug," he stated with a straight face, "It's a real mess if you're a pure Bio, you know, and you don't have a dermal regenerator handy."

Chriss flinched, feeling his erection beginning to throb. He was also trying desperately not to heat up. The last thing he wanted to do was toast his friend alive. Of course, if all went well, he wouldn't have to worry about that anymore. "Uh, that's OK, Bomber, I think I'll keep IT. I kinda like to pee standing up anyways."

Adam smiled. "So did I, but oh well…" he mused. "Why don't you drink some of Kel's booze an' pass out so it don't hurt so bad? They numbed me, but I saw some they didn't! Geez, talk about screaming!"

Kel grinned wickedly. "I think the hangover might be worse," he mused, "But if you want to try it, be my guest!" he said ominously, handing the bottle of ancient whiskey to the young Pyro.

Chriss took a few sips of the whiskey and grimaced, then choked. "I don't think so!" he coughed, "Let's just get on with it."

The operation took place in Kel's limited workshop, since it had the best lighting and a table that the young Pyro could lay upon. Adam insisted on tying him down to keep him from moving, and he laughed as Chriss stripped off his tattered shorts – which were generally all that he ever wore – and climbed up. Chriss had a rather obvious erection, and his face flushed. "Sorry, can't help it," he muttered.

"Well that won't be a problem for much longer," Kel stated, rummaging around in his assorted tools and odds and ends for a new blade for the knife. "How's this?" he asked, waving a long handled knife with a short curved blade at Adam.

He nodded. "Looks almost like a scalpel to me," he agreed, turning to Chriss. "I won't lie to you, Chriss, this is gonna hurt like hell. Maybe we should wait until someone can steal us a med-pack?"

But the young Pyro shook his head, brushing his unruly white hair from his face. His penis twitched in time with his pounding heartbeat. He made an indelicate sound and said, "No, let's just get it over with."

Both Adam and Kel nodded, and began to secure him to the table. When he was bound firmly in place, he tested his bonds and found that he couldn't move all that much. He nodded.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Adam asked, his tone almost saying please say no so I don't have to do this, but Chriss only nodded. "You sure you won't miss anything?" he asked again, touching his own crotch, "Because sometimes I really… I mean, I was really little and all, but sometimes I wonder what I missed out on."

"You missed out on a lot of aggravation, guilt and headaches," Chriss replied, "Nothing you'd have liked, I think."

"My Master and his friends sure seemed to enjoy it enough," Adam mused, and Chriss' limited Psi told him that Adam had actually liked some of it. His face flushed again, and he started to heat up.

Adam took the bottle of powerful booze from Kel and poured a bit over Chriss' genitals. The Pyro yelped. "What?" Kel asked.

"Well, warm yourself up, Firebug," Adam ordered, "Your scrotum's shrinking up and I need something to work with here, to get a hold of. That's what they did to me."

Chriss did that, and as Adam began to manipulate his genitals, the Pyro moaned softly. His erection was so hard that it actually hurt; his embarrassment hurt more, however. "Everyone I ever saw them cut up did that," Adam reassured him, "Try not to think about it."

Still pulling gently and feeling Chriss' testicles, Adam nodded. "Not bad at all," Kel commented, "Seems like a waste to me. You know, these would fetch a small fortune on the Network for the Parts Dealers. Too bad we don't have a Cryo container for them. You sure you don't want to keep it all together and see how it goes?"

Adam moved the knife down and touched the blade to the center line of Chriss' scrotum. He took a deep breath. "Here we go," he said, and began the cut.

Chriss winced, but he didn't cry out. "You OK?" Kel asked in a nervous voice, wiping away the blood from the cut. Chriss nodded. His Psi told him that Kel was genuinely concerned, despite his joking tone, and that was strange. Usually, the gang leader was all business and very little chat. Chriss decided not to probe any deeper though; not only would it be rude, but it would also make his head hurt and he was about to have all the hurt that he wanted to think about without that as well.

Once the center line of the young Pyro's scrotum was opened up, Adam applied gentle pressure to one side and slid the right testicle out. Kel handed him a clamp that he used for handling delicate electronic parts, and Adam pulled the testicle down and out as far as he could and locked it on the cord. He had seen this done numerous times, and he hoped he was doing it right. His small hands shook just a little.

Chriss whined and clenched his teeth. He was beginning to shake. Kel took the clamp in one hand and passed Adam a small laser torch with his free one. "Fully charged," he offered, "so don't be afraid of wasting it. I've got a spare." Adam nodded and fired a tight beam just below the clamp. There was a smell of scorching meat, and Chriss screamed.

"Sorry," Adam offered in a small voice, "but that's one," he stated, letting the testicle fall to the table. Kel dabbed up the blood with a cloth, and Adam began to work on the remaining testicle, repeating the procedure. "You got any kind of glue or sealer or anything?" he asked Kel.

"I've got some sealer left over for closing semi-external Implant lesions, will that do? I almost forgot!" he asked.

"Don't get cute, Bomber," Kel replied, rummaging for the sealer, "You know how long it took me to design this eye?"

Adam nodded, firing the laser at Chriss' remaining cord. The testicle fell, and Chriss screamed again, his breathing ragged. Tears ran down his greenish cheeks, and he grated his teeth. Kel handed Adam the sealer, and carefully aligning the cut scrotum, he applied it. He then let Kel dab up the remaining blood and began to put in the stitches.

When Adam had finished the last stitch, all of them in a neat line, he took the bottle of whiskey from Kel again. "Brace yourself, Firebug. This is gonna hurt like hell!" Chriss nodded.

As Adam poured the strong alcohol over Chriss' wound, the young Pyro tensed up, struggling with his bonds, and screamed again. A pile of scrap parts and some neglected laundry in the corner of the room suddenly burst into flame, and sweat poured from Chriss' body. He screamed again, drew a ragged breath, and passed out.

Very gently, Adam bandaged the wound as best he could without the benefit of a med-pack and Kel untied Chriss. The big man then effortlessly scooped the unconscious Pyro up his well-muscled arms and carried him back to his room, placing him on his bed. Adam followed along behind them, and made a show of looking around the room. He didn't want his leader noticing him noticing the tenderness with which he brushed the long, white hair out of the new eunuch's face and touched his cheek. It was so out of character, and he wondered if Kel had ever been a father. There was just something about the way he handled the young one, something that hovered just on the verge of his memory.

"It wasn't all for the theory, you know," Adam offered, "But it sure will help, I mean, how many Pyros have you ever met?"

"I'll stay here with him, just in case. Not like there's anything I can do, but I just don't want him to wake up all alone like I did when it was over," Adam said in a small voice, pulling a spare pillow off the end of Chriss' bed to sit upon. The spartan room offered no furniture other than a small desk. "Where's the blankets?" he asked, looking around the room again.

Adam thought for a moment, then grinned. "Oh, I guess I didn't think of that," he said, as Kel turned and left the room.

He then took up a vigil at Chriss' bedside, taking the Pyro's warm hand in his own. He swallowed hard. "I almost hope you're wrong, Chriss, because I don't wanna have to do this ever again," he whispered.

Chriss was brought out of his memories, those real and those procured from Adam, by the honking of the rover's horn. He jumped. "I didn't think you could sneak up on a Psion," Dan observed, his grin broad.

"I was just thinking, is all," Chriss replied, as he and Dan lifted Xyn up onto the back of the rover. "I miss Adam – need to look him up. OK, you hold him," the Pyro replied, wrapping Xyn back up in the blanket, "I'll drive."

"Because I felt you coming here, and they should take away your permit!" Chriss replied with a grin.

They laughed for a moment, then started back. In only a few more hours, they'd be home where they could finally rest. For some of them it was home; for the rest of them, it was a new home. More were going to be arriving soon, Shar had said, and there were many preparations to make. The headlight of the rover cut through the darkness as Chriss pushed the motor up as fast as it would go, speeding along through the empty streets of the Ruins towards home.

^Paolox3_

XY-N

Chapters 5-8a

Chapter Five
The Waters & the Wild

Chapter Six
Saints & Sinners

Chapter Seven
The Wind Begins to Turn

Chapter Eight
Fallen Angels

^Paolox3_

XY-N

Chapters 5-8a

Chapter FiveThe Waters & the Wild

Chapter SixSaints & Sinners

Chapter SevenThe Wind Begins to Turn

Chapter EightFallen Angels

Chapter Five
The Waters & the Wild

Chapter Six
Saints & Sinners

Chapter Seven
The Wind Begins to Turn

Chapter Eight
Fallen Angels