Storiesonline.net ------- Betsy Carter by Lazlo Zalezac Copyright© 2012 by Lazlo Zalezac ------- Description: She's young, exotically attractive, smart, rich, strong, and energetic. It would appear that she has everything necessary to be supremely happy, but appearances can be deceiving. Codes: rom mag slow ------- ------- Part 1: Frenetic Motion ------- Chapter 1 "I can not endure another night alone!" echoes across the world as desperate cries of pain, originating from within the sterile white walls of small apartments everywhere. There is no greater curse that can befall a person, than a life lived in a state of constant loneliness. Each day spent in loneliness, sucks a little of the soul from a man or woman. Even after a few days, the effect of loneliness on a person is observed as a sloping of shoulders, a dulling of the eyes, and a lethargy of spirit. A year spent in constant loneliness creates a flat, lifeless person who exhibits only the barest of signs of living. A lifetime of loneliness produces a husk of a person; a walking corpse, that goes through the motions of being human, but without experiencing life. Loneliness is a result of more than being unloved, or isolated. It is being invisible – of having an existence that goes completely unnoticed by others. It is shouting out in pain on a crowded street and having everyone walk past without even a glance. It is lying on death's door without a single tear being shed by another. It is being a nothing. Loneliness is a relatively modern phenomena. People work in little cubicles. They stand in crowded subways, with eyes staring off into the distance ignoring all who surround them. Living apart from family, they dwell in little apartments where neighbors pointedly look in the opposite direction. With six billion people walking on the planet, it should be impossible to be lonely. Yet, it happens so frequently that it has become a common misery. One must wonder how that can be. All it takes to end loneliness is a word ... a gesture ... a touch ... any simple act of recognizing the existence of another. Yet day in and day out, people exist without even causal recognition by others. Too many people wilt and waste away, in an epidemic that is spread by neither germ nor virus. Should one lonely person reaches out to another, suddenly there are two people who are no longer lonely. It is so simple, and yet, so exceptionally difficult for a lonely person to do. ------- The slap-slap-slap of running shoes hitting the pavement was muted by the almost oppressive quiet of the desert. A foot fell an inch in front of a scorpion crossing the highway and disappeared before insect had a chance to react with raised stinger. The young woman, pony tail swinging to and fro behind her, ran at a steady pace that ate miles at a near superhuman rate. She moved in an effortless manner – arms and legs swinging with an easy grace. She ignored the occasional car or truck that passed her although almost all of them slowed when driving past. The sight of a young woman wearing jogging shorts and a tee-shirt running along a highway in the middle of nowhere was sufficient to draw the attention of even the most jaded and tired of drivers. More than one car slowed enough for the driver to offer a lift which was calmly refused by the young woman who never once showed a moment of concern about the isolated circumstances in which those offers were proffered. The shrill sound of a cell phone disturbed the air, and the young woman touched an ear piece. Without any trace of breathlessness, nor even breaking stride, she answered, "Hello?" "Where are you?" "I'm running to the store," the young woman answered. "You left yesterday morning." "I haven't gotten there yet," the young woman said with a giggle. "What store are you going to?" "Daniella's Boutique." "The one on Rodeo Drive?" "Yes," the young woman answered. "I want to get a new dress." There was a low frustrated growl followed by, "That's four hundred miles from home!" "I'll be there late tomorrow." She had figured that it would take her thirty hours to run there. Having left in the late morning the previous day with plans to rest the nights in hotels along the way, she predicted a late afternoon arrival. After a couple hours of shopping, she'd mail her purchases home, spend the night in a hotel, and start her return run the next morning. "That's four hundred miles!" "I'm averaging a four and a half minute mile," the young woman replied. It was the kind of blistering pace that only world class marathon runners could maintain, and even they would only last for around two hours before collapsing at the finish line. At noon, she had already been running for six hours and expected to continue at that pace for another six hours. It was well within her limits. She wasn't even breathing hard. "Where exactly are you?" "I'm about halfway there. I'm nearing the California state line." "What road are you on?" "The highway." "Betsy, I'm sending a helicopter out to pick you up." "Why?" Betsy asked. "It's not safe for a young woman to run across the desert alone." "I can take care of myself." "That's not the point." "It is the point. I can take care of myself!" Betsy declared. Anyone who knew Betsy was well aware of the fact that she was more than capable of taking care of herself. Reflexes fast enough to catch a rattlesnake in mid-strike, strong as any man, a lifetime of training in the martial arts, and training in the use of arms; these made her a very dangerous individual. Her willingness to use force ... although tempered somewhat, from her early life ... assured she would not stand quietly by, while being victimized, by anyone. "You drive all of us mothers crazy." "Momma Linda, I run. That's what I do," Betsy said. "I'll arrange a chase car," Linda said. "Don't bother with that." The two women argued over the phone for thirty minutes before Betsy conceded that she would call home every hour, and let them know where she had holed up for the night. She had covered seven miles during the conversation, and four cars had slowed down to check her out. An hour later a patrol car eased up beside her, and rode along for a minute or so while the officer kept pointing to the side of the road. Frustrated that she didn't stop, the officer drove ahead and pulled off the road, parking on the shoulder. He got out and leaned against the rear of his patrol car waiting for her. When Betsy arrived, he shouted, "Stop." Betsy came to a stop although she did continue to jog in place. It wasn't that she needed to cool down after her run. She didn't like to stand still. "What's the matter?" Betsy asked. "I need to see some identification," the officer said. "Why?" "Just show me some identification," the officer said. Betsy reached into her fanny pack and pulled out her wallet. She opened it and held it out for him to inspect. "Please take your identification out of the wallet," the officer said. "This is a huge waste of time," Betsy complained while digging her identification card out. She handed it over to the officer. He took a moment to examine the young woman and compare her to the image on the card. Individually, none of her features were all that remarkable, but the total result was a very attractive young woman. She was of medium height, but so muscular that she almost looked stocky. She was small breasted consistent with having almost no body fat. Her facial features were exotic as a result of Caucasian, Negro, and Asian ancestry. Her hair, jet black, despite being in a pony tail fell to the middle of her back. Her skin was not black, white, or yellow, but almost a golden tan. Satisfied the identification matched the woman jogging in place in front of him, he went over to the front of the car and, reaching through the open window, pulled out the microphone for his radio. He called in the information on the license. After a short exchange with the dispatcher, he put the microphone back in the car. He walked back to Betsy and returned her identification card to her. She was still jogging in place. The officer said, "Here's your id, Ms. Carter." "Thank you," Betsy said rolling her eyes. "Don't you know that it is dangerous for a young woman to be hitchhiking like this in the middle of nowhere? There are all kinds of perverts who would love to abduct a young woman who looks like you. You wouldn't like the kinds of things one of them would do to you," the officer said. While he was talking, she had put the card in her wallet and then returned the wallet to her fanny pack. He wondered if she was even paying attention to what he was saying. "I know. I'm not hitchhiking, though. I'm running." "So don't you think it best if you avoided a situation like that?" Snorting at the idea of avoiding a situation like that, Betsy asked, "Who cares if there's one less pervert in the world?" Amused at her assertion that the pervert would come out the loser, he asked, "What do you mean?" "Anyone that tries to grab me, will end up dead," Betsy answered with the calm assurance of someone who was convinced the outcome was well understood. The officer shook his head. He knew that too many young people assumed that they were invulnerable to harm until they encountered a situation that was too much for them to handle. Reality had a tendency to bite them in the ass with a venom that was often fatal. He and his brother officers were then called upon to clean up the mess. "Ms. Carter, there are some very big and nasty men out there," the officer said. "I know. They're the most fun to take down," Betsy said with a dangerous gleam in her eyes. Still jogging in place, she shadow boxed for a few seconds. Her fists lashed out at blinding speed. Despite the speed of her movements, he wasn't impressed. Seeing the expression on his face, she added, "I've done it before, and I'll do it again." "There's always someone who is bigger and meaner than you are," the officer said as if her were explain that a stove was hot to a young child. "But there are only a few who are deadlier than I am, and I know all of them," Betsy said with the assurance that she was stating a fact. "Right." "It's true." He knew that he wasn't going to convince her that she was doing something foolish. In a movie, this was the kind of conversation that preceded something horrible happening to the young woman. He didn't want to respond to a call sometime later to recover her body from some remote place in the desert. Changing tactics, he said, "Look, Ms. Carter, why don't I take you into town where you can get on a bus and go home?" "No thank you." "If it's a matter of money, I'll buy your ticket," the officer said. He didn't really want to spend that kind of money, but he'd rather see her safely on a bus than have his next encounter with her occur in the morgue. She was a very attractive young woman and that tended to attract sexual predators. Too often they ended their encounters by killing their victims. "I'm not worried about money. I'm going shopping," Betsy said. "Where?" "Rodeo Drive," Betsy answered. "You're carrying enough money to go shopping on Rodeo Drive?" the officer said thinking that this young woman had no sense of danger. The officer sighed. If it was true that she had money, then he wouldn't be able to pick her up on vagrancy charges. He hadn't seen her hitchhiking so he couldn't arrest her for that. Although it was unwise to travel along a deserted stretch of highway such as this, there weren't any actual laws against pedestrians along this stretch. Distance cyclists and cross-country runners often traveled along the highway since it was one of the few east-west roadways into California. Usually though, they traveled in packs, rather than alone like this. "Are you kidding? I've got debit cards," Betsy said. He was about to say something when her cell phone rang. "Hold on ... that's my mother." She reached up and tapped a button on her earpiece. Betsy answered the call with a cheery hello while still jogging in place. He had no idea who she was talking with, but it was obvious by the changes in her body language that she wasn't happy. Betsy said, "I know I said I would call every hour, but I'm stuck here talking to a police officer." She was silent for a moment and then said, "I know. He thinks I'll get abducted or something. He doesn't understand that I'm perfectly safe." He watched her frown. "All I wanted to do was run down to the store and back. It's no big deal," Betsy said. "I don't need a bodyguard," Betsy said angrily. The police officer relaxed a little at hearing that. If anyone needed a bodyguard, it was a woman who looked like her. He figured that would be some friend of the family since he doubted she had the money to afford a professional bodyguard. "Momma Ling, you know that I could kill anyone who tries to harm me before Gary could even get off his bicycle." "That does it! I'm going to get a carry permit the minute I get home." The policeman looked at her thinking no one in their right mind would give her a carry permit. She didn't have the sense to use it responsibly. "I'm jogging by the highway, next to a patrol car. He can't miss us," Betsy said. "Bye!" Betsy hit the button on her ear piece. She looked at the officer and said, "One of my mothers has arranged for me to have a bodyguard. Are you happy, now?" "I'm very happy." "He'll be here in a couple of minutes," Betsy said. "I'll wait." A couple of minutes later a helicopter flew over, and then circled around. It landed about fifty feet from the highway. The officer stared at the helicopter, a little incredulous that whoever had sent the bodyguard would choose to have a helicopter deliver him. He jumped when there was a gunshot from the helicopter. His hand went down to his pistol, and he pulled it out of its holster. The next thing he knew, the girl was holding his pistol. "Shit!" "Don't worry," Betsy said. "If there's a problem, I'm a better shot than you." Much to his surprise, she had stopped jogging and was holding the gun in the direction of the helicopter like it was an extension of her body. Her shooting posture was perfect. There wasn't the least bit of wobble or sign of nervousness. On seeing how she stood, he was halfway convinced that she might actually be a better shot with a pistol than he was. "Give me my gun back." A man climbed out the helicopter and wrestled with removing a bicycle from within it. He picked up the bicycle and stomped his way towards the patrol car. He would occasionally pause to kick up a little dirt in disgust. Recognizing the man who had gotten out the helicopter, Betsy was now holding the gun skyward, and had resumed jogging in place. "Give me my gun back," the officer said, not wanting to get in a fight with her while a third person was approaching and unknown individuals remained in a helicopter parked a short distance away. The helicopter took off before the man reached the patrol car. "That idiot pilot has a whole desert in which to land, and he chooses to set down right next to a rattlesnake. I nearly shit my britches," the man grumbled while putting the bicycle down. Giggling at the man's disgruntled grumbling, Betsy said, "Hello, Gary." Stunned at the identity of the man, the officer forgot about Betsy having taken his gun. "Sargent Sellers?" Gary looked at the man for a second. "Uh, you're Dwight Paterson, right?" "Yes, Sargent." "I remember you. You were all gung-ho about joining the paratroopers. Did you get in?" "Yes, Sargent." "Drop the 'Sargent' crap. I'm retired, now. It's just Gary." "All right." Betsy said, "Can we go now? I'm bored, here." "Hello, Betsy. Where'd you get the gun?" "From him," Betsy said pointing at the police officer. "Give it back to me," Dwight said. "Give him back his gun," Gary said. While handing the gun back to Dwight, Betsy said to Gary, "I thought you were guarding the rich and famous in Palm Springs." "I was, until your mother called," Gary said. "I don't need you, so why don't you go home?" "I know that you're perfectly safe, and you know that you can handle anything that comes along, but your mother doesn't accept that. I'm not brave enough to tell Ling that I left you out here all alone," Gary said. "What do you mean she's perfectly safe?" Dwight asked. "She's more than capable of taking care of herself," Gary answered. "No way." "I wouldn't stand a chance in a fight against her," Gary said. "You do stand a chance ... at least a really good chance of getting hurt," Betsy said with a grin. Incredulous, Dwight stared at Gary. He'd had Gary as an instructor in basic training. Gary taught unarmed combat and he had wiped the floor with anyone who had challenged him. The fact that the man had cringed when the young woman had talked about hurting him was hard to believe. "You've got to be kidding." "She's probably the third most dangerous woman in the world. The only women I know who are deadlier, are Ling Carter and Penny Vinter." "Penny Vinter?" While he had no idea who Ling Carter was, he did know who Penny Vinter was. Almost everyone who had ever been near combat in the Middle East during the War on Terror knew of Penny Vinter. She was a living legend. Gary was one of the few men who had actually seen her in action. He had been pinned down during a horrendous firefight when she had appeared from nowhere wearing her red robe. She had danced through the enemy position and ended the fight in just minutes. "Yes," Gary said. "The Penny Vinter." "Yes." "Penny isn't so tough. She's got no stamina. I took her out after twenty minutes," Betsy said. She had to admit that it was one of the best matches of her life. She wished that she had actually had a chance to spar with Oscar Meyers, but her mother had done that. It would have been a great fight. Gary looked over at Dwight and said, "Like I said, she doesn't need me." Dwight looked over Betsy thinking that Gary had to be exaggerating. There was no way a young attractive woman like her could be that deadly. He looked back at Gary and knew that man wasn't kidding. "Are we done here?" Betsy asked. "Yes," Dwight answered. "Good," Betsy said and headed down the road at her normal blistering pace. "Shit," Gary said watching her fly down the road. "I don't even know where we're going." "Rodeo Drive," Dwight said. "She's going to kill me. I don't even know if I can ride that far," Gary said while getting mounted on his bicycle. "When they find my dead body by the side of the road, you can tell the coroner that it was death by exercise." Dwight laughed while Gary peddled his bike in a wobbling path around the patrol car. It was going to take the man some time to catch up to Betsy. He got in his patrol car. Cutting across the highway, he headed back the way he had come. It took a few minutes for Gary to catch up with Betsy. At least with the gearing on the bicycle he didn't have to work too hard to keep up with her. For a rider on a bicycle, her pace was rather sedate. He rode beside her. "So, Betsy. How have you been?" "I'm a little irritated at my mothers," Betsy said with a scowl. "Why?" "They're treating me like I was a baby or something. I mean ... I don't need a bodyguard," Betsy said. "They worry about you. After all, you're their little girl," Gary said. He was well aware of the fact that she was a likely target of a number of less than honest people. Her wealth attracted kidnappers interested in snatching her for ransom. Her appearance attracted sexual predators. Her family had enough enemies that murdering her in order to send a message to the family wasn't an unlikely scenario. Her cell phone rang. Irritated, she answered it, "He's here." Gary had asked the pilot to let Ling know that he had arrived. He was confident that Ling knew he was on the job. Betsy said, "I don't want to talk right now. I'm running." She touched the button on her earpiece with a growl. Looking up at the sky she shouted, "Ahhh!" "They worry about you," Gary said. "I'm twenty-four years old. I've got a college degree," Betsy said. "I know." "I just might keep going when I hit Hollywood," Betsy said. "What do you mean?" "I bet I could swim all of the way to Hawaii." "Probably," Gary said well familiar with her stamina. He peddled along side her for a minute. It was obvious that she was angry. From his perspective, it was nice knowing that people worried about you like that. Of course, it could get to be a little old after a while. He asked, "Why Hawaii?" "I could pick up my Doctorate there," Betsy said absently. "I know more about sharks than anyone in the world." "I know," Gary said. It was easy to dismiss her intelligence. She didn't look or act particularly scholarly. Of course, her particular research interest wasn't the kind of thing that was done behind a desk. She studied sharks by swimming with them. A lot of people believed that spiritually she was a shark. "There's one thing for sure." "What's that?" "I can't live at home anymore. I've got to start making my way, my way," Betsy said. "Your mothers won't be happy to hear that," Gary said thinking that he wouldn't want to be around when that conversation took place. "William was living alone when he was fifteen," Betsy said. "William is William," Gary said. "He is pretty unique." She ran while he cycled beside her. They had settled into an easy pace until they reached a town. Betsy stopped, suddenly, in front of a diner. Gary slammed on the brakes wondering why she had stopped. She said, "Let's eat." By the time Gary had found a place for his bicycle and locked it, Betsy had gone into the restaurant and gotten a table. He approached the table in time to hear her asked, "Do you have onion rings?" The waitress looked at the woman fidgeting in her seat, thinking she had to be on drugs. No one could wiggle, jiggle, and bounce with that much energy without being on a stimulant. She answered, "Yes." "Good. Three hamburgers, an order of fries, an order of onion rings, and two milkshakes – one chocolate and one strawberry," Betsy said placing an order that would replace all of the calories she had burned running over the past five hours. Gary sat down and said, "I'll take a hamburger, fries, and a vanilla milkshake." "How many more are coming?" the waitress asked wondering if she should move them to a larger table. "No one," Betsy answered. The waitress turned to Gary and said, "Well, she already ordered for you." "No. That was for me," Betsy said. "We have pretty big hamburgers," the waitress said. "Great. Bring them on." Betsy ate all three hamburgers, the onion rings, the fries, both milkshakes, and completed her lunch experience with a banana split for desert. Half of the patrons in the restaurant turned and watched her eat unable to believe that a young woman could possibly consume that much food. She finished her food before Gary managed to finish his meal. Betsy said, "We're going to Hawaii." "We are?" Gary asked wondering when that had been decided. The waitress put his Fudge Sundae down on the table. He picked up a spoon while listening to Betsy. "That's right. I decided that before coming in her for lunch." "When are we going?" "As soon as we hit LA. I'm putting the shopping trip on hold," Betsy said. She tossed a fifty dollar bill on the table and said, "That should cover lunch." Gary looked down at his uneaten Fudge Sundae. He looked out the window in time to see Betsy taking off down the street. He sighed at the thought of trying to pedal the bicycle fast enough to catch up to her. He hoped that he didn't lose his lunch, or get cramps from exercising too soon after eating. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 2 The real estate agent, a very conservatively dressed woman in her early fifties, opened the door and stepped back to let the couple into the house. Experience with couples of all ages, races, sexual orientations, and religions kept her from reacting to the age difference in the couple. The man was at least twenty years older than the young woman. Having been dumped by a husband who had traded her in 'for a younger model, ' she had to work hard not to show her true feelings. She said, "Com..." Betsy darted around her, spun around taking in the room, and then headed off into the house without saying a word. Gary groaned and shook his head, hoping that she would stay in the house. Shocked, the real estate stared in the direction in which the young woman had disappeared. "Sorry about that," Gary said. "I hope she finds the rest room in time," the woman said thinking that was the only explanation that made sense. "She's just excited about looking over the house," Gary said. "Oh, sorry, I just assumed..." "Don't worry about it," Gary said interrupting the flustered woman. "It's just that..." "How much is it?" Betsy asked while tapping the woman on her shoulder. Startled, the woman answered, "Uh ... Twelve - five." Flashing a toothy grin, Betsy held out a debit card and said, "I'll take it." "I don't think you understand – that's 12.5 million," the agent said staring at the plastic card and wondering what she was supposed to do with it. "I'll take it," Betsy said shoving the card into the woman's hand. "What am I supposed to do with this?" the woman asked holding up the plastic card. "Run it through the little charge machine." "Uh..." While stripping out of her clothes, Betsy said, "I'll be swimming while you do whatever you do to make the house mine." Gary said, "Stay here for a minute, damn it!" By the time the real estate agent had gathered her wits sufficiently to do more than stutter, Betsy was naked and running out the back of the house. Weakly, she muttered, "Excuse me." Gary shook his head in dismay. Not for the last time he wondered how he had ended up with this job. He wondered why he had even answered the telephone, having seen that it was Ling calling him. His life would have been a whole lot easier, if he had just ignored it. He sighed and then said, "Talk about stupid. I should have rolled over and gone back to sleep." "I don't understand," the real estate agent said. "Let's start over again," Gary said. "Good idea." "I'm Gary Sellers. The young woman who ran through here is Betsy Carter. She's looking for a house to purchase." "I'm Karen Osterfeld." "Nice to meet you, Ms. Osterfeld." "When are the two of you looking to move in?" "You're not going to like the answer," Gary said shifting from foot to foot nervously. "Why?" "You can assume that Betsy expects to move in right this minute," Gary answered. "That's not possible." Gary said, "I know that." "We've got to make an offer to the owners, get a reply from them, arrange for an inspection, get a mortgage, and do a title search before we can even schedule a closing," the agent said. "She just handed you a debit card to pay cash for the house. She's going to come back expecting to own the house," Gary said. "This is a debit card?" Karen asked looking at the plastic card as if it was a snake. "Yes." "With a twelve million dollar plus limit?" "I assume so. You'll have to call the bank to ensure there are sufficient funds in her account." "I don't know," Karen said uneasy. "What's the matter?" "I don't think we can do this," Karen said still staring at the debit card. Gary said, "Let me call one of her mothers." "One of her mothers?" Karen asked wondering if she had stepped into an alternative reality. This meeting had seemed like such a simple thing – go to this house and show it to a prospective buyer. She even had the paperwork in her car to fill out in the unlikely case that the prospect decided to make an offer on the first visit. Nothing had prepared her for Betsy. "She's got four of them." Karen screamed when a wet hand descended upon her shoulder. She spun around to find Betsy standing there dripping water onto the carpet. It was obvious that the young woman had been totally immersed in water. "If you need some help, call my brother William. He handles all of my money. Knowing him, my account has probably only got a couple of million on deposit at the moment. It might take him a couple of hours to arrange the rest. He's really good with money," Betsy said. "How do I get in touch with William?" "You can call him on the phone," Betsy said before turning around and dashing towards the rear door. "What's his number?" Karen called out after Betsy. "I'll make the call," Gary said. "How did she get all of the way to the ocean and back so quickly?" Karen asked. The ocean was behind the house, but it was nearly two hundred yards away. She didn't think Betsy had enough time to walk all of that way and back in the short period of time that had elapsed. She looked to Gary for an answer, but he was busy entering a telephone number in his cell phone. He waited for an answer and then said, "Hello Barbara, I'm Gary Sellers. I'm currently the bodyguard for Betsy Carter." Karen listened to the one side of the conversation. She wondered if the young woman was some kind of pop music star to have a body guard. Based on how quickly she had shed her clothes, it wasn't too much of a stretch to make that assumption. It seemed to her that female rock stars tended to shed their clothes at the drop of a hat. "She's trying to buy a house and wants William's help ... Ah ... You can take care of the details?" Karen was seriously confused by this point in time. "She handed the realtor a debit card saying that she wanted the house, and then ran off to swim in the ocean." "I know, but Betsy doesn't know that. Do you want to talk to the realtor? I should be down by the ocean trying to do my bodyguard thing," Gary said. "Okay," Gary said. He handed the phone to Karen and said, "Talk to Barbara." Karen took the phone and tentatively said, "Hello?" Gary walked through the house following the wet footprints to the back door. He stepped outside and spotted the path that led to the ocean. He took a deep breath as if to steel himself for what he was going to find and followed the path. The path led to a huge beach with golden sand which curved around a large bay. He figured it had to be one of the most beautiful beaches in the world. From where he stood, his back was to a line of exotic plants and palm trees with mountains visible off in the distance to the left and right of him. It was truly a paradise. He spotted Betsy well offshore. She flew out of the water and then landed on her side like some kind of dolphin or porpoise. A few seconds later she was again leaping out of the water. He wondered how deep the water was out there. There was no way that she was jumping off the bottom. There was an elderly couple somewhat down the beach. The woman was gesturing wildly, pausing only occasionally to point in Betsy's direction. The man had a huge grin on his face. It appeared that the man and woman had completely different reactions to seeing Betsy charge across the beach, naked. While heading over to the couple, Gary looked back out in the water. Betsy was moving towards the shore at an incredible speed. She was cutting through the water like a shark. At the last moment, she stood and raced out of the ocean leaving a spray of water behind her. She was headed towards the couple on the beach. Gary took off at a run, hoping to reach the couple before Betsy did, fully aware that it was a slim hope at best. He managed to arrive at the couple a few seconds after Betsy. Excitedly, Betsy asked, "Do you live here?" The woman frowned at Betsy clearly disapproving of the absence of clothing. Gary could understand the woman's reaction, particularly based on how her husband was reacting to Betsy's appearance. He clearly enjoyed the view Betsy was providing him. The man replied, "Yes. We live in the house right over there." Allowing her exuberance free rein, Betsy leapt forward, hugged the woman, picked her up, and swung her from side to side. She screamed, "We're going to be neighbors! We're going to have so much fun together!" "Oh my God!" the woman said, clearly horrified at the prospect. The man grinned. Gary covered his eyes with his hand while Betsy greeted the man in the same manner. The older man seemed quite pleased with her greeting. "I'm George and that's my wife, Bess." "Hi, George. Hi, Bess. I'm Betsy!" "Nice to meet you Betsy," George said. Betsy said, "I'm going for a little swim. I'll be right back." Without waiting for a reply, Betsy tore off at a run towards the water. She was waving her arms in the air enjoying the run on the sand. Ten feet into the water, she leapt into the air and disappeared into the water. Gary said, "Hello. I'm Gary Sellers – her bodyguard." "This is not a clothing optional beach," Bess said with ice in her voice. "It is now," Gary muttered. He knew there was no way that they'd get Betsy to wear a swimming suit. They could arrest her everyday and that wouldn't stop her from swimming naked in the ocean. He looked back at the ocean wondering how many problems Betsy was creating. She was already two hundred yards off shore. "That's where you're wrong," Bess said. With a worried expression on his face, George looked out at where Betsy was swimming. He said, "She might not want to go out that far. There are occasionally sharks out there." "Oh God. I'll never get her out of the water now," Gary said. "What?" "It's a long story. Let's just say that she loves sharks," Gary said. George said, "They aren't friendly little sharks. They've caught Mako sharks out there." "It just gets better and better," Gary said looking up at the sky. He yelled, "Why are you doing this to me, God? I've tried to be a good man." "You should call her in," George said. Gary said, "It will do no good." Bess said, "You aren't a very good bodyguard." Gary replied, "You do not want to get between her and a shark. She loves sharks. Sharks love her." "Yeah, they'd love to eat her," George said. Clearly excited about something, Betsy came racing towards shore. She leapt out of the water and ran up the beach. It almost looked like something out of a cartoon the way that her feet were kicking up little clouds of sand behind her. Excited, she asked, "Do you have a rebreather?" "A what?" Bess asked. "They don't have one," Gary said. "Do you?" "No," Gary answered. "Why do you want a rebreather?" With a grin that stretched from ear to ear, Betsy said, "I ran into a gray reef shark out there!" "I'm so happy for you," Gary said looking down at the sand wondering how he was going to explain this to Ling. "I'm going to love living here." "Of course. There's nothing better than having sharks right out your back door," Gary said somewhat tongue in cheek. "I'm going to go visit the shark. Maybe its got some friends," Betsy said racing back towards the ocean. Bess asked, "Is she for real?" "Oh, yes. She's for real," Gary said. George said, "She's a little energetic." "You don't know half of it," Gary said. "How do you put up with her ... energy?" "When I get my phone back from the realtor, I'm going to quit. I'm not going in the water with sharks. Ling is going to have to find a Navy Seal to be her bodyguard." He was exhausted from trying to keep up with her. Her run to LA ended at LAX. He'd had to leave his bicycle outside of the main office of a charter company and race after her through the private hanger. He barely caught up to her when she'd climbed into a jet. He had been unaware that she had chartered the flight while jogging. If it hadn't been for the nap he'd gotten on plane flight to the islands he'd have collapsed by now. As it was, he was barely standing. He didn't think that he'd last until nighttime. Karen stepped onto the beach while still talking on the telephone. She looked around and then headed towards Gary. She was walking gingerly across the sand in her high heels. The expression on her face was not one of happiness. It was obvious that she was functioning well outside her comfort zone. Turning to George, Gary said, "I think I'm going to quit the bodyguard business and open a lemonade stand in Palm Springs. I'll import the lemons from Israel, the sugar from Australia, and use bottled water from France. I'll call it gourmet lemonade and sell it for ten dollars a glass. What do you think of that idea?" "That sounds pretty good to me," George said. Bess asked, "They grow sugar in Australia?" "Yes, they do." "I didn't know that," Bess said. "Running a lemonade stand will beat bicycling across Arizona and California chasing after a hyperactive young woman who swims with sharks," Gary said. Karen finally reached them and held out the phone to Gary. She said, "There's a very unhappy woman who claims to be Betsy's mother on the phone. She wants to talk to you." Gary grabbed the phone, held it to his head, and said, "I quit." He held the phone away from his head until the volume lowered to a level he could tolerate. He walked off talking to Ling on the cell phone. He expected the language to get rather raw and felt it would be best to hold the conversation out of immediate earshot of the women. Bess said, "Hello, Karen." "Hello, Bess." "Are you actually selling the house to that ... that ... girl?" Karen sighed and then answered, "Her bodyguard made one phone call. There's now a team on a plane that will arrive tomorrow morning by nine o'clock. In less than ten minutes, they were able to put together a group that includes two lawyers, an accountant, a banker, and a secretary. They anticipate having the sale completed by close of business tomorrow." "Can they do that?" George asked. Bess said, "It took us almost two months to buy our house." "I guess you can when you pay cash using a debit card, fly the owners out to complete the sale, and know everyone who is anyone in the state. With enough money I think that you can accomplish anything," Karen said shocked by the things she had learned of the telephone when talking to Barbara. "You're kidding?" "They were surprised that she was spending so little on a house," Karen said. It appeared that Betsy's brother had anticipated the call. He had left a note for Barbara that Betsy could spend as much as seventeen million on a house without impacting her investments significantly. "That's a twelve million dollar house," George said wondering how anyone could see that as spending a little on a house. "She's probably the richest person on the island," Karen said looking out at the water. There was a fin moving along side Betsy. "Her?" Karen nodded her head. "She's a member of the Carter Clan." "Oh my God!" Bess said. "Jesus," George said looking out in the ocean unable to spot Betsy. A moment later she reappeared with two fins moving beside her. Looking a little shell shocked, Karen said, "The whole family is flying in tomorrow." She had finished her conversation with Barbara and closed the cell phone when it had rung. Thinking that it was Barbara calling back about some detail, she had answered it only to discover that she was talking to Ling Carter. After establishing each other's identities, Ling had proceeded to give Karen a list of things to tell Betsy. "Druids." "Yep, Druids." Gary came over and sat down on the sand. Depressed, he said, "Ling is coming here. She won't accept my resignation." Betsy came running up the beach. She turned a cartwheel about halfway to them. She then did a nice aerial somersault, something that Gary thought would be impossible on a sandy beach. Upon reaching them, Betsy said, "Now that we've found my weekend home, let's find where I'm going to live on weekdays." "What are you talking about?" Gary asked looking at Betsy in shock. "What?" Karen asked. Betsy said, "I'm going to the University of Hawaii. That's on Oahu. We're on Kauai. I can't commute to there from here every day. It would take me at least ... I don't know ... four hours maybe ... to swim each way. I can't waste all of that time when I have to study." "Of course you can't," Gary said. "That's a ... hundred and fifty miles," George said. "That's even worse. That would be an eight hour swim each way," Betsy said. "At least," Gary said. "It's impossible to swim that far," Bess said. "Do you want to bet?" Betsy asked. "No," Gary shouted holding up his hands. He turned to Bess and George adding, "You don't want to bet her, because she'll do it." "I believe you," George said. "You're going to get a place in Honolulu?" Karen asked. "I'll probably just pick up a condo or something near the school," Betsy said. "I've heard they have some pretty nice ones for around a million dollars." "They do," Karen said. "I'm going back to my house and get dressed. I'll be in the car waiting for you," Betsy said. She ran a few steps and then ran back, "You are coming with us, right?" "Who? Me?" Karen asked. "Yes, you." "I suppose I can," Karen said thinking that she was going to have to get out her laptop and look up condominiums in the area of the University of Hawaii while they were on their way to Oahu. She wondered if there would be any problems getting Betsy past the HOAs that ran most of the large condominiums like petty tyrants. Betsy ran a few steps away and then ran back. "What's your name?" "Karen Osterfeld." "Hello, Karen. I'm Betsy Carter," Betsy said holding out her hand. Karen shook it. The moment Karen released her hand, Betsy dashed down the beach kicking up a spray of sand. She leapt up and grabbed a coconut out of a palm tree while flying past it. She landed on the sand, threw the coconut up in the air and then caught it while running. Karen watched Betsy running towards the house. Thoughts of taking a vacation with the money she was about to earn in commission flashed through her mind. She was thinking about going someplace far far from here. George said, "Watching her has tired me out. I'm going to go up to the house and take a nap." "Me, too," Bess said. Bess glanced in the direction of the house into which Betsy was moving and then muttered, "There goes the neighborhood." "Sorry," Karen said apologetically. Gary said, "Let's go. She's probably already dressed and waiting by the car. I've got to warn you, she doesn't have much patience." "No kidding," Karen muttered while starting the long walk back to the house. She muttered, "I shouldn't have worn heels." "I can carry you," Gary said trying to be helpful. "No thank you." "I didn't think so." "By the way, here's her debit card," Karen said holding it out for him to take. Taking it from her, he said, "Thanks. I'll give it to her in the car." They trudged up towards the house. It was difficult walking through sand with high heels. Karen would have taken them off, but walking through sand wearing pantyhose wasn't any better. Betsy came to check on their progress twice. Gary said, "It looks like I'm going to be living here until Ling finds a replacement for me." "Are you looking to buy or rent?" Karen asked. "I'll live in her house. It's part of the job," Gary said. "I feel sorry for you," Karen said. Gary shrugged his shoulders. He was making three times his normal billing rate. It could have been worse. "What about your wife?" "I'm not married." "Oh." He asked, "Are you married?" "I'm divorced. He dumped me for a younger model." "Would you like to go out sometime?" Gary asked. "With you?" "Yes." "I guess so," Karen said. Gary said, "It might be a couple of days before I can arrange some back up bodyguards." "That's okay," Karen said. "It's going to be tough finding someone. Anyone I call will hang up when she hears that I'm working for Ling. If I manage to keep her on the phone she'll die of laughter when she hears that I'm guarding Betsy." "That bad, huh?" "Worse. I need to find two women willing to babysit her," Gary said holding up two fingers. "Women?" "People get upset when a man follows a woman into a bathroom or even just hangs around the women's room looking threatening. You need at least one woman to guard a woman," Gary said. "I didn't think about that." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 3 Ling said, "You look like hell." "I've been around your daughter for a couple of days," Gary replied pointedly. He tried to count the days, but they all ran into a blur of move and move and move. He had never been so tired in his life. Trying to keep up with Betsy was a constant effort. She was always in motion and that required him to always be in motion. The normal human being wasn't built for that level of activity. "You should get some rest," Kelly said. Gary pointed at Ling and said, "She should let me quit." "You can't quit until I find a replacement for you," Ling said. "How's that search going?" Gary asked sarcastically. "Not very well," Ling admitted. Gary said, "You might as well give up. Everyone knows that she's just as deadly as you are. No one in their right mind is going to touch her. Anyone not in their right mind is going to get torn into little pieces." "I want someone to watch over her," Ling declared. "Do you have anyone watching over you?" Gary asked pointedly. "Yes. We have a full security staff at home," Ling answered. Kelly said, "We do." "Do you have a personal bodyguard?" Gary asked. "Well, no," Ling said. Gary said, "I'll handle security at her house, but there's no way I'm going to be her bodyguard. It's physically impossible. I can't protect her when she's jogging. She runs at fifteen miles per hour and I'm doing good to get up to eight miles per hour. I try to follow behind her on a bike and the next thing I know she starts heading across country doing that Parkour thing where I can't follow her. I'm not going in the ocean with her. She attracts sharks and the sharks are going to look at me like I'm dinner." Ling said, "That is a problem." "That's a big problem. No job is worth getting shit out the back end of a shark," Gary said. "That's a rather vulgar way to put it," Kelly said. "I apologize. It's just that I feel rather strongly about the subject," Gary said. Claire said, "You make some good points. I don't blame you." Ling said, "That doesn't solve our problem." Gary said, "The only problem you have is that you can't accept that she can take care of herself." Ed said, "He's telling the truth." "Don't take his side," Ling said glaring at Ed. Gary said, "I'll bet you every dollar you owe me that you can't keep up with her for two days." "I'd never take that bet," Ling said with a low growl of frustration. The unfortunate thing was the Gary was right. She couldn't keep up with Betsy. There probably wasn't another human being on the planet who could keep up with Betsy. Her need to constantly move while awake was unnatural. In every aspect of physical ability, Betsy was at the far end of the spectrum. Gary said, "I'll put the security systems in her house and condo. I'll stay at her place and defend her against anyone who tries to break in. I'm not following her around." "Okay," Ling said. "Thank you," Gary said. Ed said, "You can probably hire a couple of people willing to accept those terms." "I'll make the calls," Ling said. "I'm glad that's settled," Claire said. Gary said, "She wants a carry permit." "I'll definitely support her in that," Ling said. Ed said, "I'm not so happy about that." Claire said, "After William's shunning of her, I have a feeling that she'll be very responsible." "That's true," Ed said. Gary said, "I'll go talk to her." ------- Betsy was on the stationary bike watching a movie on the television. It wasn't a very good movie, but it was the best she had found. She looked down at the digital readouts and saw that she had already covered twenty miles. Gary entered the room and sat down on the couch. It was an older movie that starred Nora Turner. He was surprised when Betsy shut off the television. "Are you quitting?" Betsy asked. "No. Your mothers have agreed that you don't need a bodyguard. They do insist that you have a security detail at your houses," Gary said. "I can live with that," Betsy said. "I've been surrounded by security my whole life." "That wouldn't surprise me," Gary said. "If you'll have me, I'll be happy to provide security at your home." "That would be nice," Betsy said. Betsy peddled the bike some more while Gary watched her. He wondered how anyone could move that much for so long without dropping dead. It couldn't be healthy. "Do you think I'm a freak?" Betsy asked. "A freak? No. I think you are at an extreme in terms of human physical endurance. That doesn't make you a freak," Gary answered. "I think I'm a freak." Gary thought it was sad that she thought of herself as a freak. He could see why she might feel that way. There was nothing natural about her stamina and need to continually move. Of course, there were a lot of high strung people who had a very difficult time sitting still for very long. He asked, "Why do you think you're a freak?" "William is always talking about big numbers. He says there are six billion people on the planet and that no one is really unique. I confronted him about that once. I asked him to find another person just like me. He got real quiet for a long time. Then he said there are a handful of people who are truly unique and that I was one of them." "So is he." "That's true. I guess I didn't think about that. He is different from everyone else." Betsy was silent for a moment before she said, "Did you know that I've never had a real friend?" "What do you mean – you've never had a friend?" Gary asked. "I've never had a friend. I've never had a girlfriend to share secrets with. You know, a girl who comes over and spends the night where we giggle, tell stories, and drink hot chocolate. "I've never had a boyfriend. I've never been on a date. I've never been kissed. I'm twenty-four and still a virgin," Betsy said. "I'm sorry to hear that," Gary said a little flustered by the topic of conversation. "I mean ... I think it's great that you're still a virgin, but I'm sorry you've never had a friend." Somewhat defensively, she said, "I'm not sorry about being a virgin." "Okay." "I don't want you to think that I'm looking to get laid at the moment. I'm not," Betsy said. "I believe you. Besides, your first time should be with someone you care about," Carl said. The idea that she was offering up her virginity to him had never entered his mind. He figured she was wanting to talk about something that was bothering her and hadn't quite gotten to the real heart of the subject. Her status as a virgin was an artifact of what was bothering her. "I believe that it's true that it is better to wait until you find someone you love. William waited to have sex until he met Lucy," Betsy said. She peddled for a bit lost in thought. Betsy said, "It's not that I've been alone, but I'm lonely." "At least you have family," Gary said. "Do you have family?" Gary answered, "Not really. My parents passed away while I was in the Army. My wife divorced me because I was never home. We never had a chance to have kids. Well ... I have a sister, but we don't talk to each other." "That's a shame about you and your sister, but I kind of understand what you're talking about," Betsy said. "Your whole family is pretty close," Gary said. Betsy said, "My brother Eddie is probably the most supportive member of the family. He's proud of everything I've ever done. He helped me train for the Olympics and cheered me on in every event. "My brother William listens to me and gives me good advice. The thing is that William is William. He only relates well to a couple of people ... like his wife. I know he loves me, but I think at times that he finds me amusing. I don't always understand him. He's kind of a loner, if you know what I mean." "John and Beth travel all of the time so I don't really see them that much. When I do see them, it's pretty obvious that we don't have much in common. John is into animals, so we can talk about that for a while. Beth has her buildings and I'm not into buildings." "My little brother Micheal is really too young for me to have a real sibling kind of relationship with him. I'm almost more like an aunt than a sister. He's still the baby of the family." "I'm sorry you feel that degree of separation from your siblings," Gary said. "That's the way things are," Betsy said shrugging her shoulders. Gary said, "You still have your parents." "That's true," Betsy said softly. She started peddling faster. Gary watched and wondered what was going through her mind. She was definitely burning up a lot of energy on that bike. "It's just they aren't my age." "Ah," Gary said. He had never given much thought as to how important it was to have friends your own age. It automatically established a common ground of experience. Of course, there weren't many people who had the kind of life lived by Betsy. A super hyperactive child raised by eight parents who were among the wealthiest and most powerful people in the world didn't have a very large peer group. "I don't think Bess and George liked me very much," Betsy said. "You might have overwhelmed them a little," Gary said diplomatically. Betsy said, "I'll admit that I might have been a little over excited about finding such a beautiful house, and then discovering that I had sharks in my backyard." Gary said, "I think Bess is a little conservative. She's not used to nude women hugging her." "I didn't think of that," Betsy said with a frown. She had thought of it as a friendly greeting. She didn't think there was anything wrong with being nude. She knew that not everyone felt that way, but it seemed strange to her to find someone who felt that nudity was wrong. She didn't know anyone who wore a swimming suit except when away from home. "I was pretty sure that the thought never crossed your mind," Gary said. Betsy said, "I guess I act first and then think later." "I think if you were to ever meet with her in situation like this..." "Like what?" "A situation where you aren't running from one place to another constantly. I think if you could just talk with her in a relaxed manner like we're talking that you could probably patch up things," Gary said. "Do you really think so?" "I do." "That would be nice," Betsy said. "Riding your exercise bike while having a cup of tea with her would probably give her a chance to know Betsy Carter as person rather than as a force of nature," Gary said. "Do you think of me as a force of nature?" "At times you give that impression." "I don't mean to." "I know," Gary said. This was one of the few occasions that she wasn't talking so fast that her words came at him like bullets out of a Gatling gun. He actually appreciated the more thoughtful version of Betsy. He got up and went over to the little refrigerator. He grabbed a bottle of water and held it up. "Do you want one?" "Sure," Betsy said. He grabbed a second bottle and took it over to the bike. She took it, removed the cap, and drank a third of it. While screwing the cap back on the bottle, she said, "Thanks." "You're welcome," Gary said returning to his seat. Kelly stuck her head into the room and smiled upon seeing Betsy. She came in and sat down in one of the chairs. It was obvious by the deliberate manner in which she moved that this was not a social visit. "Hi Mom." "Hello, Betsy." Betsy peddled for a minute and then said, "This isn't a casual visit, is it?" "I'm afraid not," Kelly said. "What did I do wrong now?" Betsy asked. Gary was struck by her implicit assumption that she had done something wrong. He imagined that her parents must have spent a tremendous amount of time trying to direct her energies into useful directions and to moderate her intrinsic enthusiasm for what she was doing. Like any child, Betsy probably saw her parents as criticizing her. "Nothing. I just need to talk with you about some things you'll need to take care of now that you are moving out on your own," Kelly answered. Gary said, "Should I leave?" Kelly shook her head and answered, "No. You should stay. What I have to say concerns you as well." "That sounds serious," Betsy said. Kelly said, "You're moving out of the house for good now. It's time for you to hire a staff to support you." "What kind of staff?" Betsy asked. "You'll need a housekeeper to cook and clean, as well as a handyman to repair things around the house," Kelly said. "Don't forget the security staff," Gary said. "I hadn't forgotten that. You'll want at least two people, possibly three, for security to take the day and night shifts. You'll also need a secretary to manage your schedule, and an accountant to deal with your money issues," Kelly said. "That's a lot of people," Betsy said counting the number of positions her mother had described. "I really don't want six people living in my house." "While we've found it easiest to have the staff live in our home, it isn't really necessary. I do suggest that you have the housekeeper and the security staff live in your house," Kelly said. "The secretary and accountant can work in an office. The handyman can have a regular schedule or you might want him to live in the house." Betsy said, "I can kind of cook and clean so I don't need a housekeeper. We can hire a service for the lawn and call repairmen if something breaks. I don't really need a secretary since I can manage my schedule. I guess an accountant would useful." Kelly said, "According to William, you are worth over a hundred million dollars. You are a member of a family that controls billions of dollars. That places certain obligations on you. It also makes you a target for unscrupulous people. "You will need a secretary to keep track of your schedule, arrange flights, and take care of the thousand little details that having money imposes. You won't always have time to cook or clean your house, particularly since you might be away from it for extended periods of time." Gary said, "I'm sorry, but you will not want strangers who have not been cleared by me to have access to your house. That kind of puts a damper on hiring repairmen when something breaks or using a lawn service." "I'm not helpless," Betsy said defensively. Kelly said, "No one is saying that you're helpless. All I'm saying is that you'll need those people to support you." "Why?" "How many times have you asked Mary Gold to do something for you? How many times has someone on William's staff helped you out with something?" Kelly asked. "I don't call them that often," Betsy said. "Who did you call to take care of purchasing the house?" "William." "Right, but it was Barbara who took care of all the arrangements." "Yeah, but that was a special case." "Who arranged your flight to Hawaii?" "Mary Gold," Betsy answered. "Mary Gold is not going to be able to help you with local details all of the way from Arizona. You need someone here to do that," Kelly said. "I guess you're right," Betsy said. Calling someone to take care of travel arrangements, reservations, or purchases was so ingrained that she didn't even stop to think about it. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate what everyone did for her, it was that she didn't think of how frequently she requested their help. Kelly said, "You're going to close on the house and the condo this afternoon. We'll arrange with an employment agency to interview people the day after tomorrow while Ed is still here." "Why the day after tomorrow?" Betsy asked. "It will take the agency some time to contact people and arrange the interviews," Kelly answered. "That makes sense," Betsy said. Kelly said, "You'll want to take the time between now and when we interview people to decide what you need from the people who you will hire." "I don't want to fill up the house with a bunch of people," Betsy said. Gary said, "I didn't really have a chance yesterday to see much of the house, but I don't think it has that much extra space to provide individual rooms for a lot of people. However, I think it might be a good idea if we used a little piece of the property to construct a security center. Either I, or the person we hire, can live in the house while the other lives in the security center." "It has eight bedrooms," Betsy said. "So one bedroom for you, one bedroom for the housekeeper, and one bedroom for one of us security folks. That leaves you five rooms for guests or anyone else you might want to have living here," Gary said. He was hoping that the other security person was a woman. He'd much rather have the privacy that came from having his own room since he wasn't that thrilled with living and working with a bunch of women all of the time. He was a man and figured that with the nudity that was liable to exist inside the house that it would be a whole lot easier on his libido to spend as little time in there as possible. As far as he was concerned, he could envision three women living in the house, him out in a separate building, and the handyman living away from the house. The accountant and secretary could work in an office somewhere nearby. For that matter, they could have offices inside the security center. Betsy said, "I guess that's okay." Kelly said, "We'll discuss the idea of having a separate security center with Ling. I don't think she'll like that idea very much." "I forgot about her," Gary said. That reminded him of Ed. Ling would definitely question why he thought a separate security center was a good idea. If Ed was there, he'd have to admit his real concerns. He didn't want to do that feeling that he'd come out looking pretty shallow. Betsy said, "I guess we'll hire a bunch of people the day after tomorrow." "You, Gary, and Ling should spend tomorrow at your house deciding how you want to house your staff," Kelly said. "Okay," Betsy said not thrilled with the idea. Her plans had been to spend the day buying furniture and essential household items. She had a home to decorate. She didn't want to spend it in a meeting deciding what she wanted in terms of staff. Kelly said, "You might want to invite Dan to go with you. He's pretty level headed and will help you keep Ling in check." "I guess so," Betsy said. "I'll go talk to Ling and Dan," Kelly said. "Thank you," Betsy said. Gary watched Kelly leave the room. He turned to look at Betsy once they were alone. She didn't look very happy. She had picked up the pace on the stationary bike. Gary said, "You are moving here because you felt like your parents were controlling too much of your life and now it seems that they are here controlling your life." "You can say that again," Betsy said with a trace of anger in her voice. "Do you mind if I make an observation here?" "Go ahead," Betsy said. Gary said, "It just seems to me that once you get your own staff that you've really put a limit on how much your parents can control you. I mean ... it's like getting your own car. You don't have to ask your parents for a ride somewhere – you just go." "I like that idea," Betsy said. "I thought you might." Betsy said, "That kind of reminds me of something." "What?" "I need a driver, too." "Why?" She actually stopped pedaling and sat there looking embarrassed by the admission. Gary wondered if he had said something wrong. "I can't drive," Betsy answered. "Why not?" "I can't sit still long enough to drive a car," Betsy admitted. She resumed pedaling the bicycle without looking at him thinking back to her experiences in the driver's seat of Ed's Hugger. Her attempts at learning to drive would have been comic if they hadn't been so tragic. After a few seconds behind the wheel, she would start to nervously tap her feet causing the car to lurch forward each time her foot went to the floor. She'd start bouncing in her seat causing her to turn the steering wheel and thereby making the car veer all over the road. It didn't matter how much she tried to control her movements, she couldn't keep from moving. She had cried the day when she accepted that she would never be able to drive. For the first time, Gary realized that Betsy didn't have the perfect life which everyone assumed. There was no question that she was surrounded by a loving family who did everything in their power to assure that she could be the best person she could be. That couldn't and didn't prevent her from having areas of her life that were empty. In a way, she had real physical limitations that were hers to overcome. He wondered if her mothers would have insisted upon a bodyguard if she had been able to hop into a car and drive to LA. He doubted they would have had the same degree of concern if she had driven there rather than run there. She was a lot more vulnerable running alone along a highway than inside a car. Gary said, "So we'll hire a driver and get a car for him to drive. Maybe you might want to get a pilot and a small plane so that you can fly from island to island on your own schedule." "That's a great idea," Betsy said. Her pedaling sped up while she thought about Gary's observations. He was right that having a staff of her own would truly mean that she would be taking full control over her life. She could head out the backdoor and swim for hours, without one of her mothers standing on shore worried about her getting into trouble. She could pick up the phone and make arrangements to fly to the Congo to visit her brother John without having to explain her desire to see him to anyone. Of course, all of that freedom meant that she would also have to be much more responsible. She would have to keep her staff informed about where she was and what she was doing. In a sense, that was nothing new. She had to do that with her mothers for all of her life. It dawned on her that her perception of her parents being overly restrictive was a little creative use of the truth on her part to justify moving out on her own. Her mothers, particularly Ling, were only trying to protect her, not control her. She owed them an apology for the way she had gone about declaring her independence. "Would you mind asking my parents to come in here?" "What reason should I give them?" Gary asked. Betsy said, "I just need to talk to them." "Fair enough," Gary said rising from the couch. "Thanks for everything, Gary." Gary paused at the door and looked back at Betsy. He smiled at her. He had really enjoyed talking with her. There was a bit more depth to her than there appeared. Gary said, "You know, you're the kind of person who it takes a while to get to know; but once someone gets to know you, he or she is happy in having taken the time." Betsy's smile lit up the room. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 4 Betsy was at the head of the conference room jumping a skip rope, it was actually a length of CAT-5 cable, while waiting for the next applicant to come into the room. What she had thought would be easy was turning out to be a nightmare. The last applicant had gotten so frustrated trying to talk with Betsy, who was jumping up and down skipping rope, that she had stormed out of the room swearing that she had never dealt with anyone so rude. Betsy had been crushed. Ed, Ling, Dan, and Kelly were seated around the conference table to support Betsy in selecting the best candidate for each position. Ed would carefully question the applicant to assure that they did not have a criminal character. Ling was there so that if things got out of hand that she could take care of it. Kelly and Dan were there to help with work related questions. A woman in her late fifties entered the room. She paused, looked at Betsy, and then frowned. She turned to face Betsy's parents assuming they were the individuals doing the hiring. Betsy examined the woman. Unlike a lot of women her age, the woman chose to keep her gray hair rather than dye it. She stood with her back straight and her head held up. She took a moment to examine each and everyone in the room as if taking their measure. By her glance at Betsy, it was obvious that she had found Betsy wanting. Ed asked, "Betsy would you like to start or should I?" Betsy answered, "I think you should start with the questions." Ed asked, "What is your name?" "I'm Alicia Machol, but most people call me Alice." "Alice," Ed said repeating her name. "I'm Ed Biggers, the woman to my right is Ling, the woman to my left is Kelly, and the gentleman next to Kelly is Dan Biggerstaff. The young woman jumping rope is Betsy Carter." Alice looked at Betsy and then at Ling. There was an expression of disapproval while looking at Ling. Betsy was puzzled by Alice's behavior. Ling bristled. Alice looked back at Betsy before shaking her head with a frown. Betsy looked over at Ling to see her reaction. When Ling cleared her throat, Alice turned her attention back to Ling. It was obvious by the expression on her face that Alice did not think highly of Ling. Ed sat back and took in the whole series of exchanged glances. Curious, he said, "Alice. I sense a little disapproval on your part towards Ling. Do you care to explain why?" "Do you want the truth?" Alice asked realizing that she probably wouldn't even want the job. Everyone in the room smiled at the question knowing that Alice had no idea what she was asking. Ed answered, "I always get the truth." Alice looked at Ling and asked, "Is that young woman your daughter?" "Yes, she is," Ling answered with a definite chill in her voice. Alice was unaffected by it. She said, "That young woman is old enough to know how to behave properly in almost all social situations. Jumping rope in the middle of a job interview is highly irregular, but I can not blame the young woman. I do not approve of mothers who spoil children to the point where they do not behave with proper decorum." Ling stared at the woman in disbelief. Kelly burst out laughing. Ed chuckled. Betsy grinned from ear to ear. Dan said, "I think she just said that Ling is a bad mother." Nearly tripping over her jump rope, Betsy said, "There's no doubt about it." Alice frowned and said, "You seem to think this is funny." Ed said, "You have no idea how funny it is." Alice looked at Betsy. She said, "It isn't funny. Do you realize how distracting it is trying to talk with you while you're jumping rope?" "Yes," Betsy answered. "You'll get used to it." "I doubt it," Alice said. "Do you have any children?" Ed asked. With pride evident in her voice, Alice answered, "I have three sons. They are Marines actively serving this wonderful country of ours." "Your husband?" Ed asked. "Hal died two years ago of cancer after a career in the Marines," Alice said. "I'm so sorry to hear that. My condolences," Betsy said. Her sentiment was unintentionally lost in its delivery. She had increased the pace of her jumping the rope and had started crossing her arms every other skip. "We had a excellent marriage that lasted thirty-two years," Alice said. Ed said, "I bet he expected the house to be ship-shape and Bristol fashion." "He expected the house to be kept up to Marine standards," Alice said correcting Ed in the manner of a true Marine wife. Amused, Ed asked, "So you keep a neat house?" "Spotless. You can eat off my kitchen floor." Betsy said, "So you're saying that you're a good housekeeper." "Yes." "I guess with three boys, you kind of had your work cut out for you. Our boys, child and adult, tend to be a little messy," Kelly said. Ed and Dan chuckled at Kelly's statement. Alice said, "Young men will occasionally make a mess of things." Betsy said, "I guess you're also used to a lot of unexpected visitors dropping in." "Yes." "It wouldn't bother you if ten minutes before dinner, an extra dozen people showed up?" Betsy asked. "Well ... I'd probably order a bucket of chicken or something in a case like that," Alice said. "Don't say that around my brother. He'd never let us know when he's coming if there's fast food chicken in the deal," Betsy said. She changed the rhythm of her jumping so that the rope was passing twice under her feet between times of touching the floor. "Would you please stop jumping up and down while we're talking?" Alice asked. "No," Betsy answered. "You are a very undisciplined young woman," Alice said in obvious disapproval of Betsy's reply. "Betsy's problem isn't a lack of discipline," Ling said. "Mothers always make excuses for their children." Ling barked, "Betsy! Demonstrate your Tai Chi." Betsy stopped jumping. The jump rope fell to the floor, hitting the ground only after she had gotten into the starting position of Tai Chi. She flowed smoothly through all of the positions with a grace that was almost unnatural. Alice had seen demonstrations of Tai Chi in the past and couldn't believe what she was watching. She leaned forward watching Betsy move from form to form. She might not have known what all of the moves were named or how they were to be sequenced, but she did recognize the level of control that Betsy possessed. When Betsy reached the final position, Ling said, "Show me the last Kata you learned." Betsy performed an extremely complex Kata with ease. She came to a stop and bowed to her mother. Ling said, "You've improved." "Anything else?" Betsy asked. "No." Betsy picked up the CAT-5 cable she had dropped and resumed jumping rope. Alice said, "That was amazing." Ling said, "Betsy's problem isn't that she is undisciplined. The problem is that she can't stop moving." "Why not?" Alice asked floored by the demonstration she had just witnessed. "Is she trying to set some sort of world record or something?" "No," Ed said. "She has to keep moving," Kelly said. Alice looked puzzled. She asked, "What do you mean that she has to keep moving?" Dan said, "The best analogy that I've been able to find is that it is like she has an overactive adrenal gland that makes sitting still impossible. Now she doesn't actually have an overactive adrenal gland, but the biological basis of her constant need to move is of a similar nature. Her body won't sit still." "Not even for a minute," Kelly said. "Really?" Alice asked looking at Betsy. Ling said, "Dan forgot the stationary bike, so we had to improvise with a jump rope made out of CAT-5 cable." Alice said, "I apologize. I misunderstood the situation." "Apology accepted," Ling said. "I hope that my behavior does not influence your decision concerning this interview," Alice said. "It doesn't matter all that much what I think. You wouldn't be working for me," Ling said with a smile. Alice looked at Ed. He shook his head and said, "You wouldn't be working for me." Alice looked at Kelly who was shaking her head. She looked over at Dan who shook his head. She slowly turned to look at Betsy who was smiling and nodding her head. Alice asked, "I'd be working for you?" "That's right," Betsy answered. "Oh." Betsy said, "I need a live-in housekeeper. Your job would include cooking, cleaning, laundry, and other typical household chores. You'd be like a housewife, but you get paid for it." "I'd be working for you in your house?" Alice asked. "That's right. My house is right on the beach. It's really great," Betsy said. Alice looked at Ed and asked, "Will you be living there?" "We live in Arizona. We just came here to check out her new house," Ed answered. "I just bought it and a condo two days ago," Betsy said. "You have a house on the beach and a condo?" Alice asked looking back at the others thinking they really had spoiled this young woman. "The house is here on Kauai and the condo is on Oahu," Betsy said. "Where would I be working?" Alice asked. "Here on Kauai, but I'd fly you over to the condo occasionally to straighten it up when I get really busy." "You have a job on Oahu?" Alice asked. "I'm going to enroll in school and need a place to live near the university." "You're a college student?" Alice asked. "Yes. If you're afraid that I can afford to pay you, don't worry. I don't need to work." "You don't?" Betsy said, "I invested everything I had in a company that was making rebreathers, back when I graduated high school. The company made a version for fireman and hazmat folks, before going public. I made a killing on that one. My one dollar private shares ended up being worth eighty at IPO. I gave the money to William to invest and it has quadrupled in value in three years." Ed said, "All of our kids have trust funds that pay out in increments. They get a small amount when they graduate high school, a larger amount when they graduate college, and the remainder when they reach an appropriate age." Kelly said, "None of our kids have needed any more than they received upon graduating high school. Their investment results make their trust funds look like petty cash." "You must be proud of them," Alice said. Ling said, "We are." "You are?" Betsy asked. Ling said, "Well, most of the time." Betsy stuck her tongue out at her mother. Everyone started laughing and she said, "Okay. Sometimes we drive our parents crazy." "Crazy is too nice of a word for what you do," Ling said. Betsy said, "Well, are you going to do your truth thing now?" Ed looked at Alice and asked, "Do you have any intention of harming Betsy?" "No." "Would you ever leak or pass private information about Betsy to anyone?" "No," Alice answered looking insulted by the question. "Would you warn Betsy if there was any kind of threat to her?" "Of course." "Have you ever broken the law?" "I stole a candy bar when I was a kid and got punished when I was caught." "Any other crimes?" "No." Ed said, "She passes." "Great!" Betsy said. "So how about it?" When no one said anything, Alice asked, "Are you talking to me?" "Yes." "I'm not sure what you're asking," Alice said. "Do you want to work for me?" "I guess so," Alice answered. Betsy said, "You're hired. Why don't you join Gary and help interview the next candidate?" "Are you talking about the guy in the other room?" Alice asked. "Yes. He's my security person," Betsy answered. Alice said, "Okay." ------- Alice entered the other room and looked at Gary. She hadn't been aware that he was interviewing her during her first visit to this room. He had said that was waiting for the next interview. She had assumed that he was a candidate also. "She hired me," Alice said. "She's an interesting character," Gary said. "That jumping rope is really distracting," Alice said. Gary laughed. He said, "Believe me, it can be a whole lot worse than that." "You should have seen her do Tai Chi. All of a sudden, she's graceful, quiet, almost ... serene. It was the only time I felt like I could talk to her without being distracted," Alice said. Gary looked at Alice like she was from another planet. He got up and opened the door to the room where Betsy and the others were waiting. He stuck his head in the room and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. Once everyone was looking at him, he said, "May I make a suggestion?" "What?" Betsy asked. "Is it possible for you to practice your Tai Chi while interviewing the next person?" "I can do that," Betsy said. Gary said, "Try it." "I will." Gary closed the door and said, "She's going to do Tai Chi during her next interview." "That's a good idea," Alice said. "Maybe between the two of us, we can make her life a little better," Gary said. "Like she needs us," Alice said dismissively. Gary said, "She needs us far more than we need her. I feel sorry for her at times." "Why?" "She's a very lonely person," Gary said. "That's sad." Gary said, "I'll get the candidate for the handyman position and we can interview him together." "Interview?" "We'll chat with him to get a measure of the man. If we don't like him, we'll just thank him for his time and show him the door out. If we do like him, we'll just send him in to the lions," Gary said. Alice laughed. "The lions. I'm gonna remember that one." Gary picked up a phone and let the person outside know that the housekeeping position had been filled and that they should send in someone applying for the handyman position. He was rather surprised when a woman walked into the room. Gary looked at her thinking the service might have made a mistake. "Are you here for the housekeeper position?" "No. I'm here for the home maintenance and lawn care job," the woman said. Gary said, "I guess you're here to be interviewed for the handywoman position." "Handywoman? Now that sounds disturbing and disgusting. It conjures up images of some old broad giving hand jobs to homeless men," the woman said. "I hate to say this, but it does,"Alice said while laughing. She made a gesture like she was giving a hand job and said, "Hi! I'm your local handywoman." "Sorry ... I did not ... Oh boy," Gary said somewhat flustered. The other woman was laughing while taking a seat. Gary pointed to the door and said, "You can go in now." "Thanks," the woman said. When the door closed behind the woman, Alice said, "I didn't know a Sergeant could get that color red." "It caught me by surprise," Gary said. "You can't help that you were only an Army Sergeant. If you'd been a Marine, you'd have been dropping drawers." Gary chuckled. His experience with Marines told him that she was probably right. The woman returned to the room. She said, "I was hired." "Hi, I'm Alice." "I'm Gary." "I'm Sam." "Nice to meet you, Sam." Gary picked up the phone and said, "The home maintenance and lawn care job has been filled. Send in the driver." Another woman entered the room. Gary turned to Alice and said, "You ask her." "Are you here for the driver position?" "You bet." "I'm Alice." "I'm Sam." "I'm Gary." The woman said, "My name is Catherine, but everyone calls me Wheels." "Wheels?" "There's nothing that can be done in a car that I can't do and there are things I can do in a car that can't be done," Wheels said. Without batting an eye, Sam asked, "Can you take on five guys in the trunk of a subcompact car?" "I'd rather not answer that question. I promised the guys I'd never say a word about what we did that weekend," Wheels said with a grin. Sam burst out laughing. Gary shook his head. Alice hit Gary on the shoulder and said, "I thought Army Sergeants were tougher than that." Sam asked, "Besides playing circus clowns in a car, what do you do on your time off?" "I'm restoring a 1936 Mercedes Benz Benzino," Wheels said. Sam said, "Sweet." Gary said, "So you not only drive them, you fix them." Wheels said, "Honey, there's nothing I can't do with a car. I restore 'em, repair 'em, and drive 'em. I grew up in a garage fixing cars. I've been a stunt driver in movies for big chase scenes. I've been a chauffeur for a three star general." Alice looked at Gary and then over at Sam. She said, "You can go in there." Wheels was in the room for five minutes before she returned. She said, "You didn't tell me that Ling Carter was in there." "You know her?" "Honey, we took an advanced offensive driving course together. She's good, but I'm better. She'll even admit it," Wheels said. "So did you get the job?" Gary asked. "Of course. I'm the best there is." Alice asked, "Has anyone ever accused you of being humble?" "Um ... No," Wheels answered. Gary asked, "Were you ever in the service?" "I'm a Marine." "Why doesn't that surprise me?" Gary picked up the phone and said, "The driver position has been filled. Send in a candidate for the secretary position." The door opened and a woman on crutches entered the room. She noticed everyone looking down at the place where her right foot had once been. She said, "They're still building the replacement." "How did you lose it?" Gary asked. "Fighting insurgents in the Philippines." "My youngest son is there," Alice said. "Is he attached to the UN forces?" the woman asked. "Yes." "They're getting the upper hand now. For a while, it was touch and go," the woman said. Alice said, "I'm glad to hear that." The woman said, "I thought after Oscar Meyers that being in the military would be relatively safe for a while. Who knew that half the old religious fanatics would drop religion as a cause to chase after political power?" "I know what you mean," Alice said. "I'm Gary." "I'm Alice." "I'm Sam." "I'm Wheels." "Wheels?" "I drive cars," Wheels said. "I'm Charlene, but I go by Charlie." "Nice to meet you, Charlie." Charlie said, "I've got to warn you up front that I won't be able to start work for a week or so. They're going to fit my foot tomorrow and there's some physical therapy on how to use it." "You're still in the hospital?" Alice asked. "Just for another week or so. I snuck out to see about getting this job," Charlie said. "This job is that important to you?" Gary asked. Charlie said, "An old friend of my mother lives in a small town in Arizona. She called me and let me know about this position. She said that I'd love the job and she'd give me personal recommendation. She's never steered me wrong." "You put a lot of faith in your friend's word to sneak out of a hospital and fly here on your own dime," Wheels said. Gary asked, "Did you say a small town in Arizona?" "Yes." "Go on in. I know for a fact that they'll hire you," Gary said. Charlie went into the room. Looking at Gary, Alice said, "You know for a fact that they'll hire her?" "That small town in Arizona is the same town those folks are from. One of their friends is recommending her to them," Gary said. Wheels said, "She's gonna be hired." Gary looked at Sam. He said, "Let me guess, you were in the military." "Yes. I spent a couple years playing nursemaid to a bunch of electronic systems in a submarine," Sam answered. Gary said, "I think Ling stacked the deck." Wheels said, "You know Ling. Would you expect her to do anything else?" "No." A very austere looking woman stepped into the room. Gary looked at her, his jaw tightened, and he sat up straighter in his chair. He asked, "What are you doing here?" "Don't tell me that Ling hired you, too." "This can't be happening," Gary said. Alice said, "I take it that you know each other?" "Hi. I'm Stacy. I'm Gary's sister." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 5 Gary stayed away from the house while the rules of the house were explained to the rest of the staff. He was dreading going inside. There was no telling what he'd find when he got inside. He sat in his car staring off into the distance. Stacy said, "One guy and six women in a clothing optional house. You must be in heaven." "Hell is more like it," Gary said. "Don't forget that one of those women is you." "That still leaves you five women, mister 'love 'em and leave 'em, '" Stacy said. "Damn it! I was eighteen! I was young, dumb, and full cum," Gary shouted. "She threw herself at me with her legs spread wide open. What guy is going to say – maybe I should do the responsible thing and say no because I'm not in love with her?" "I told you that if you went to bed with her that she was going to expect you to marry her," Stacy said. Getting out of the car, Gary said, "I wasn't ready to get married. I had just gotten out of high school. I had no money for college and not a single job prospect. My only option was to enlist." "You dumped her when she needed you." "I had no idea that she would kill herself when I enlisted," Gary said. The slam made when he closed the car door was timed as if to add punctuation to his statement. "She was pregnant!" "I didn't know that at the time!" Frustrated and angry, Gary took a couple of steps away. "You didn't?" "No." "She was three months pregnant." "Well, she didn't tell me! She stood there waving good-bye when I was getting on the bus to go to basic training. I get to the base and a chaplain is there to tell me that she killed herself. That was my welcome to the Army." "I thought you knew." "Mom told me three years later. That was the first I'd ever heard of it," Gary said. "I'm shocked." Gary said, "I know that she was your best friend, but to be honest – she wasn't all there. She was needy and grabby and ... she was suffocating me. I couldn't even go to the toilet without her waxing poetic about how long we had been separated." "She was madly in love with you." "No. There's love and there's what she had. What she was feeling wasn't love. I don't want to speak ill of the dead, but she was sick." Stacy stood there looking down at the ground. She didn't want to believe what he was saying, but his story was consistent with his behavior at the time. She didn't know what to think. "I've got to tell you the truth, I was happy to be getting on that bus. I was starting to have nightmares about waking up in the middle of the night, to find her hovering over me with a knife in her hand, like some kind of scene out of a horror movie." Stacy shouted, "I don't believe you." "I don't care what you believe," Gary shouted. "That's the first lie told in this entire conversation," Ed said. Shocked, Gary spun around to face Ed. He asked, "What are you doing here?" "What do you mean that is the first lie?" Stacy asked. Ed answered, "He does care what you believe. Everything else he said was the absolute truth as far as he knew it. You were telling him the truth, as you knew it." "How can you say that?" Ed held out his medallion and said, "My service to the Two-Sided One is to find the truth and to expose the lies. And Gary, to answer your question, I'm here to expose the lies." "Okay," Gary said. Ed asked, "Are you two going to be able to play nicely together, now?" Gary answered, "No. I'm still mad at her." "Why?" she asked. "You shot at me," Gary said. "I fired in your general direction." Gary said, "You stood in the center of the street, calling me a murderer, and you shot at me. You blew the back window of my car to smithereens." "Don't be a baby. If I had wanted to hit you, you'd have been dead," Stacy said. "I don't believe you," Gary said. Stacy said, "I don't care what you believe." "That's a lie," Ed said. "You do care." Gary said, "I don't think I want to have this discussion with you here, Ed." "I agree." "You're stuck with me," Ed said. Gary said, "If I didn't care about Betsy so much, I'd quit. She needs me." Ed looked astonished. "What do you mean ... she needs you?" "She needs a friend. She needs someone who will listen to her and try understand her situation. That poor girl is lonely," Gary answered. "You'll jump on her and destroy another woman," Stacy said. Gary shook his head. "I'm not eighteen. I'm not interested in having sex with her. She needs a friend and I want to be that friend." "This is an interesting development," Ed said looking off into the distance deep in thought. It seemed as though he was that way for a long time. Finally, he turned to Stacy and said, "He didn't know your friend was pregnant. She wasn't quite all there. He left to pursue a better future in the Army, with the benefit that he was leaving your friend behind. You went off on him without knowing all of the facts. You owe your brother an apology." He turned to Gary and said, "You were a young, dumb man when you encountered an unstable woman. You handled it badly. You're still dumb by letting that event control your relationship with your sister, after so many years. Grow up." Ed walked off. Gary said, "I'm still pissed at you." "I still think you knew what she'd do when you left," Stacy said. Gary said, "I'm going to check the back of the house." He glanced over at the garage. The Hugger Betsy had bought for use on the island was parked in one bay. The Mercedes Benz Benzino was parked in the other. Of the two vehicles, he had to admit that he like the Mercedes the most. There was something about the lines of the car that reached out and touched the soul. It was more art than automobile and he couldn't help wonder what had happened to cause an entire industry to forget its esthetic past like it had. Beth's husband, John, Wheels, and Sam were head down in the engine compartment of the car Wheels was restoring. It only made sense that John was out there. As an automotive engineer, the chance to go through the classic car would appeal to him. Sam's interest in the car was kind of a surprise to him, but she had a mechanical streak in her that was a mile wide. She probably enjoyed checking out the old-time mechanics that went into the car. Gary made his way to the back of the house. The large pile of sleeping bags was an immediate reminder of how many people were staying at the house. Everyone in the Carter Clan ... with the exception of William Redman Carter, and his wife, Lucy ... were camped out in the backyard. William didn't ever leave his home in Arizona. It was hard to keep track of how many people were on the property at any given time. They swarmed. They came and went, like bees around a hive. There were shopping expeditions to furnish the house. There were trips to Oahu to furnish the condo. There were frequent trips to the supermarket to purchase food and refreshments. The staff were busy moving in and that brought strangers into the house. At least Ling and Claire were there to support him, and Stacy to help with the security concerns. There was a flurry of activity at the rear of the house when several members of the family stripped out of their clothes and took off for the beach. He wondered how Bess was going to take the sudden influx of nude people on their beach. That reminded him that he was supposed to introduce them to Ed Biggers, so that Ed could check them out. He suspected that Bess would start trying to pressure George into moving out sometime in the future unless some sort of good relationship was established with them and Betsy. He looked around and decided that everything was okay. He wished that everyone had stayed for another couple of nights in the hotel while he finished getting the security systems in place, but they weren't to be denied. Instead of having a nice empty house in which to work, the installers were constantly being interrupted with questions, observations, and minor suggestions – all of which were being studiously ignored. All that was being accomplished was that the installation was behind schedule. He entered the house through the door by the kitchen. He could hear the rattle of pots and pans created as a result of Alice setting up the kitchen for daily use. He spotted a stack of boxes through the kitchen door. Everything in the kitchen was brand new. There wasn't a used pot, pan, plate, or piece of silverware to be found. The typical kitchen appliances such as coffeemakers, crock pots, electric can openers, and toasters were still in boxes waiting to be unpacked. He doubted they would have a home cooked meal for several days. He paused by the room, he guessed that it was once a den, that had been set aside as an office. Even though Charlie wouldn't be starting immediately, that wasn't keeping them from setting up an office. Someone had moved in two desks, a conference table, chairs, filing cabinets, and shelves. There was a cabinet for a printer and printing supplies. Ling and Dan were in the process of setting up a computer network. He noticed that Betsy was in a room riding a stationary bike. He knocked on the door and asked, "Can I come in?" "I guess," Betsy said. Gary sat down next to her and watched how she was peddling the bike. Her movements weren't fluid and that wasn't normal for her. Her posture looked stiff. She didn't look happy. "Are you feeling okay?" Gary asked. "I would like a little peace and quiet," Betsy said weakly. "I'll be happy to leave," Gary said while rising from his chair. "Please stay," Betsy said. "I'm just a little ... I don't know ... tired." Having a pretty good idea of what was bothering her, Gary said, "You're tired of having so many guests." "Yeah." "In a day or two, they'll be gone. You won't have to act happy all of the time. You'll be able to stomp around and act grumpy." Betsy laughed. "In a couple of days, you'll be able to settle in with your staff and take stock of what you want." "You're right," Betsy said. "I think every bedroom has the basics covered. You don't need anything more for the kitchen. You've got towels, sheets, and pillows. There's no need to rush around shopping anymore. The house is ready for you live in." "You're right." "I figure you're now in a position where you'll want to take your time. This place is your home and you are going to live here for a long time. I know you want to decorate it to reflect your style," Gary said. "You can say that again." Her peddling became a little smoother and she was sitting up a little straighter. She actually smiled at him. Gary asked, "Do you want me to tell everyone that there will be no more shopping until you've got a chance to assess what you have and figure out what you want?" "That would be great." Gary got up and went over to the window where he could look over the people gathered in the garden. It was a pretty big crowd and quite a burden for someone who hasn't even set up a house yet. They didn't mind the rough conditions, but he had a feeling that it bothered Betsy. He knew she had left home because she was feeling stifled by her mothers' overprotective natures. For all intents and purposes, the situation, however temporary, had followed her here to Hawaii. Her mothers didn't mean anything by it. He knew they were worried about her because she was alone and all they actually wanted to do was help her settle in. Gary asked, "Why don't you tell them to go home and that you'll have an open house once you've settled everything?" "I couldn't hurt their feelings like that. They just want to help." "I'll talk with Ed. He might know a good way to make the request where no one's feelings will get hurt," Gary said. "You're my hero," Betsy said with a grin. Gary said, "I'll be back after I talk with him." "Thanks, Gary." Gary stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. He stayed facing the door while thinking about how she had to be feeling at the moment. He felt sorry for her and hoped the the Carter Clan might act on the hint to leave. Dreading the errand that he was about to undertake, he turned around. He was more than a little startled to find Ed standing there. Somewhat uneasy, he said, "Hello, Ed." "I overheard your little talk with Betsy," Ed said. "Eavesdropping?" Ed looked embarrassed for a moment and then answered, "Yes." "At least you're honest," Gary said. Ed chuckled. "At least I'm honest." "Can you help Betsy?" Gary asked. Ed, in listening to the discussion, had realized that Gary was right in thinking that the family should back off a bit and give Betsy some space to grow. He didn't think he would have been happy if more than a dozen people had descended upon the original four members of the family when they were first moving into their home. There had been more than enough stress getting their furniture moved and arranged in their rooms. Ed said, "We'll leave in the morning." "Thank you," Gary said. "She will invite everyone for an open house in the future." "I know," Ed said. "You'll see to it, won't you?" "Yes, Sir." Ed sighed. "Take care of Betsy. I have no idea what the future may hold for her, but I don't think she's going to have an easy life. She's a special child in ways that none of us understand. She's been touched by the Gods and Goddesses, but there has never been the slightest hint or claim of a future service to them." "I thought it was a forgone conclusion that she would serve one of them at some time," Gary said. Ed looked sharply at Gary and rebuked, "Never assume that you know what the Powers That Be will do." "I'm sorry, I just..." "It's a common human failing to put limits on Gods and Goddesses. The Powers That Be have a sense of humor according to William. He said that Two Sided One has laughed at him on many occasions," Ed said. "You mean I might be setting myself up for a fall by a ... uh ... assuming things," Gary said. "I wouldn't want to speculate on what they might find amusing," Ed said with a smile. "I get the idea." Ed put a hand on Gary's shoulder and then said, "I am serious about wanting you to take care of Betsy. We love her a lot and we worry about her. She doesn't have an easy life. We will appreciate anything you can do to help her." "I'll do my best," Gary said. "Thank you." Ed stepped away and shouted, "We're leaving in the morning. There's work to be done and it isn't getting done here." Gary knew that with that group there was always work to be done somewhere, so it wasn't as if Ed was lying. Dan and Leroy looked over at him with obvious relief on their faces. Dan was involved in the design of a new generation of computers where he worked. Leroy always had an active area of research. The reaction of Ling, Kelly, and Linda was more one of disappointment than not. The Carter kids, although most of them were adults and married, were out at the beach so Gary had no idea how they would react. Gary returned to the workout room while the Carter Clan met to make arrangements for their return home. He could tell that Ling was particularly unhappy about returning to Arizona before Betsy was thoroughly established in her new home. He suspected that she'd argue to stay behind, even if it meant staying at the condo on the other island. He wondered if Ling wouldn't be a problem at some point in time. He hoped not. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 6 Once the family left, Betsy and the staff settled into the process of learning to live together. There were quirks to learn and preferences to discover. The house, with its wide open spacious rooms, was designed to give great views of the exotic landscape. It did not promote privacy, particularly with six people living in the house. Betsy was willing to drop her clothes without a moment's notice, and head out to the beach. She was just as likely to wear clothes around the house as not. About the only time she wore shoes was when she was away from the house. Her shiny black hair was always tied back in a pony tail that never seemed to stop bouncing around. Alice was one of those women who didn't appear to care that she was aging. She didn't dye her hair to hide the gray. She wore conservative dresses around the house. She preferred sensible leather shoes without heels over sandals or high heels. When going to the beach, she changed into a one piece bathing suit which showed that she still retained a good figure. Stacy was nearly as conservative in her fashion sense as Alice. It was hard to say if her choice of clothing was due to the need to provide security, which could be threatened at any time, or to the presence of her brother in the house. She normally wore pants or skirts with blouses with practical shoes that she could run in, if necessary. Sam's dress around the house was somewhere between Betsy and Stacy. Most times she wore jeans and button shirts, particularly when she was fixing things or working out in the yard. Other times, she would wear the bottom half of her bikini and nothing else. She had numerous bikinis which ranged from decent to obscene. The odd woman out was Wheels. She was either in conservative clothes appropriate for a chauffeur or in overalls appropriate for a mechanic. When heading to the beach, she'd strip naked revealing a body with generous proportions in all of the right places. Then there was Gary, the only male in the house. He wore dress casual pants most of the time, although he did occasionally wear shorts when the expectation was that he'd be around the house all day. He wore pull over shirts and a light sport coat when traveling away from the house with Betsy. The coat hid the gun he carried. When he went to the beach, he always wore a baggy surfer style bathing suit. He also made it a practice to go to the beach alone when no one else was there. While there was a large degree of variability in fashion sense, all of them were the same in terms of keeping their individual living areas neat and clean. With Alice dusting, vacuuming, washing windows, and doing laundry almost constantly, the house was almost always spotless. For a house on a beach, it would be extremely difficult to find a grain of sand in the house. She wasn't alone in keeping the house clean. Everyone contributed. It was seldom that something was left out of place. Each person would take their dirty dishes or used glass to the kitchen, rinse it off, and put it in the dishwasher. A casual inspection of the house before breakfast would show every bed was made and nothing out of place. Alice was a good cook. She prepared simple, delicious, and healthy meals. Although she had been married to a Marine and had raised three growing boys who became Marines, she was, at times, astonished by the quantity of food consumed at meal time. Betsy ate as much as any three people. Gary and Stacy, who worked out every day to keep fit, tended to eat a lot of food. Sam ate a lot compared to most women because of the physical nature of her job. So although there was only six people in the house, Alice was effectively cooking for twelve. There were some rough areas in their relationships. Betsy's constant high speed movement, rapid fire speech, and impatience would get on people's nerves after a while. There was always a hint of tension between Gary and Stacy. Sam was more or less a loner, claiming that it was a result of her time on a submarine where it was impossible to be alone. She could deal with people for a while and then she just needed to get off by herself. Wheels was difficult to take for extended periods of time as a result of her less than modest opinion of herself, but, fortunately, she spent a lot of her time in the garage working on cars. Alice had a tendency to be judgmental and that often caused a little friction. It was two weeks after moving into the house when Charlie showed up to start working. She lived in a nice condo that was located a twenty minute drive from the house. She kept a nice mini-office at her condo where she could handle most emergencies from home. She typically arrived to work shortly after breakfast and left almost immediately after dinner. Initially, Wheels would take her to and from work since Charlie hadn't yet begun to relearn how to drive after losing her right foot. After having run out of excuses for not visiting, Bess had finally accepted an invitation for an afternoon tea. Alice had prepared some finger foods appropriate for the occasion. Betsy, anxious to make a good impression on her neighbor, was running around the house checking and double-checking that all was ready for the woman's visit. She had popped into the kitchen so many times that Alice told her that she'd throw everything away if she didn't stop pestering her. There was a sigh of relief when the perimeter alarm sounded to let them know that someone had turned into the driveway. Gary checked the video feed using his cell phone and then headed to the door to greet the visitor. Betsy gave a last minute check of her outfit hoping that it was conservative enough for Bess. Bess parked her car in the driveway near the front door of the house. She slowly got out of the car with an expression on her face that she'd rather be anywhere else before marching up to the front door as if she was going to her execution. Gary opened the door and greeted her, "Hello. Please, come in." "Thank you," Bess said. Betsy was bouncing from foot to foot waiting for Bess to enter. Once the woman had come inside, Betsy resisted the urge to hug her. Instead, she held out a hand. "I've been looking forward to having you over for ages." "Thank you," Bess said politely. She did notice that Betsy was wearing a very nice dress and was rather impressed with her choice of outfits. She had no clue what style of clothing Betsy normally wore. This was the first time that she had ever seen Betsy wearing clothes of any kind. To be honest, she had expected find a houseful of nudists after her experiences on the beach. Seeing that Bess wasn't going to take her hand, Betsy used it to gesture to the living room while saying, "Please come into the living room." Bess followed Gary into the living room, having been left behind by Betsy. Gary led her to a chair and then stepped away so that he wouldn't intrude on the visit, but staying within earshot should any problem arise. Betsy came running in from the kitchen after having informed Alice (unnecessarily), that the guest had arrived, and that she could serve the tea anytime now. She climbed onto the stationary bike that was kept in that room and started pedaling, working off a little of her nervous energy. "I hope that you don't mind that I'm on the bike. We've found that it makes it a little easier to talk when I'm on it," Betsy said. "That's fine," Bess said with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sure it will be better than watching you jump from place to place all of the time." "The stationary bike is a whole lot better than the treadmill. It's also a little quieter." "That's nice." Betsy was finding it very difficult to talk to the older woman. For one, she knew almost nothing about her neighbor. For another, she was trying to follow Gary's advice and not talk so fast. For her, it was a lot like holding a conversation in slow motion. "I really like living in this area. There are a lot of nice little shops not far from here." "It is a nice area," Bess said. "It's not like my old home town in Arizona. Everyone there knows everyone else and you can hardly take ten steps down the street without getting stopped by someone to exchange gossip," Betsy said. Bess said, "Wealthier neighborhoods with more educated people tend to be a little more reserved." Betsy looked a little puzzled at hearing that. She said, "That's odd. There were more than a dozen millionaires in our little town and almost everyone between twenty and forty had college degree. My Daddy Leroy says that our town has a higher density of college educated people than the average college town." "Really?" Bess asked. "Daddy Leroy would know. He did win a Nobel Prize and goes around to a lot of college towns on speaking engagements," Betsy said. "I had forgotten that you have a Nobel Prize winner in your family," Bess said. "He's my biological father," Betsy said. "He is?" Bess asked. It was hard to believe that this hyperactive woman was the child of a Nobel Prize winner. She just didn't seem intelligent enough to have that in her genetics. "I'm really proud of him. He's a very smart and thoughtful man. He's a lot of fun, although not as much fun as Daddy Ed." Bess said, "I met your father, Ed Biggers. He doesn't strike me as a fun person at all." "You've never seen him play hunt the bug-eye monsters. He's a lot of fun," Betsy said. Bess said, "With such a large family it must be difficult to keep track of everyone." Betsy said, "I know where everyone is." "I find that hard to believe." Betsy said, "Daddy Ed is in Calgary, opening a new Fusion Foundation center; Daddy Leroy is in Japan, at a conference on diseases; Daddy Dan is in China, arranging for production of a new CPU chip; Daddy Bill is in New York, overseeing the construction of his waste recycling plant; Momma Kelly is in Washington DC, working on some healthcare legislation; Momma Linda is in Hollywood, where they are making a movie based on her latest book; and Momma Claire is in Arizona, watching over Michael." "What about your other mother? Ling?" "She snuck back onto the island and is staying in my condo," Betsy said. "She wants to be close in case something bad happens." "You don't sound pleased." Betsy said, "She's worried I'll get into trouble despite the fact that she knows I can take care of myself. Give me a break! I, like, totally destroyed that pedophile; and I was only four at the time. I mean ... I put just as many people in the hospital as her when we took on those two Chinese gangs in San Francisco." "Chinese gangs?" Bess asked. "Yes. There must have been fifty of them and the only two standing at the end, were me and Momma Ling. That was a great fight," Betsy said. Horrified, Bess asked, "Do you get in fights often?" "Not really," Betsy answered. "I'm only allowed to use force when someone strong is physically harming or attempting to harm someone weaker. I had to promise William that I'd use the minimum force required to stop them." Alice came out carrying a tray with a pot of tea, cups, saucers, and plates of finger foods. She set the tray down on a small table. Betsy said, "Ah great! The tea is ready." Bess stared at Alice. She was surprised to see such a conservative looking woman working in Betsy's house. She was pleased to see how the woman carefully laid out the cups and saucers and arranged the plates with food. Alice picked up the tea pot and said, "I hope you like Ceylon Tea. If not, we have several varieties of green and white tea." "Ceylon Tea is fine," Bess said knowing that many people considered Ceylon Tea to be one of the finest teas in the world. Alice poured the tea into two cups. She asked, "Cream and sugar?" "One spoon of sugar, please," Bess answered. Alice fixed the tea for Bess and handed it to the woman. "Thank you," Bess said appreciating the golden color of the tea. "You're welcome," Alice said. Alice turned her attention to preparing Betsy's tea. She placed the cup and saucer on a small tray. She then prepared a small plate of foods for Betsy and then added it to the tray. She handed the tray to Betsy who held it in on the palm of one hand while continuing to pedal. The tray was held absolutely steady without the slightest ripple appearing on the surface of the tea. Betsy said, "Thank you." "You're welcome," Alice said. "If you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen." After Alice left the room, Bess said, "Who is that?" "That's Alice. She's my housekeeper," Betsy answered. "I'm rather surprised that you invited me for tea rather than coffee." Betsy said, "Momma Ling's mother was from England. When Momma Ling was a young child, she and her mother would dress in Victorian clothes, and have very formal tea parties. Momma Ling passed on to me an appreciation of afternoon tea. We would have tea at least once a week. It was so much fun dressing up in fancy Victorian clothes, having tea, and discussing literature of that time period." "Fascinating." It was becoming increasingly obvious to Bess that Betsy was a far more complex person than she had ever imagined possible. The young woman had no body modesty, yet enjoyed dressing up in Victorian clothes. She was always moving around, yet she was able to hold a tray perfectly steady while riding a stationary bike. She talked about violent fights with the same emotion as discussing the shopping in the area. She talked about swimming with sharks like other people spoke about petting a kitten. Betsy sighed. "Alice is the only one here who enjoys an afternoon tea, but usually they are a more casual affair." "There are a few occasions on the island where some of the women get together for afternoon teas in support of some charity or another," Bess said. Betsy said, "Oh, that would be lovely. I don't normally attend charity events, because I can't sit still, but I do have a ten million dollar a year budget for charities." Unable to believe the words coming out of her mouth, Bess said, "I'm sure we could arrange a stationary bike for you." "That would be wonderful," Betsy said lighting up like a Christmas tree. "What kind of charities do you normally support?" Bess asked. Betsy answered, "I donate computers to schools in low income neighborhoods. I support the arts, particularly the orchestra and art museum. I also support the construction and maintenance of sporting facilities in neighborhood parks." "That's quite a bit," Bess said. "Not really. Daddy Dan is an executive in a company that makes computers so I get them at a discount. I like listening to the music, even if I can't go to live performances. I love art, particularly works created by the Neo-impressionists and the super realists. I know ... that's kind of an odd mix, but I like them both." "I think it makes a nice contrast," Bess said. The perimeter alarm sounded. Betsy frowned and said, "I gave explicit instructions that we were not to be disturbed." The sound of the alarm changed. Betsy swore, "Damn!" Wondering what was going on, Bess watched people boil out of various places in the house. Gary appeared from a room with a tablet in his hand. Alice came out of the kitchen carrying her purse. Wheels, wearing her coveralls, appeared from the back of the house. Sam, wearing only the bottom of a bikini, came out of her bedroom carrying a pistol. Charlie came out of the office on her crutches. Bess was staring open mouthed at Sam. Stacy came out of her bedroom and asked, "What is it?" "Rider on a motorcycle, approaching the house." At that, everyone pulled out a pistol from various places, checked that they were loaded, and then replaced the weapons where they would be out of sight. Gary looked at Sam in disgust and said, "Put the gun out of sight." "Where am I going to hide it? In my bikini?" Sam replied. "Then get out of sight," Gary said. Bess looked over at Betsy and asked, "What's going on?" "We have an unexpected visitor," Betsy answered. "Why the guns?" Gary answered, "She's worth over a hundred million dollars and belongs to one of the most powerful families in the world. A stranger showing up unexpectedly, usually means trouble." "I guess that makes sense," Bess answered. It was kind of hard to believe that Betsy was worth so much money. She decided the young woman had a pretty good trust fund set up by her family. After all, she did belong to one of the wealthiest families in the world. "Betsy, would you and your guest please go into the safe room with uh... ," Gary looked around trying to decide who should got with them and then rolled his eyes when he realized there was only one answer that made sense. He completed his request, "Sam." "Why me?" Sam asked from the back of the house. "You're not dressed for a fire fight," Gary answered. Bess meekly followed Betsy to the room with the gym equipment. A very heavy steel shutter had descended over the window. Sam was already there. Bess couldn't help staring at Sam. "I was relaxing in my room," Sam said. "I'm sorry for staring It's just that when I was growing up, young women did not walk around the house half naked," Bess said. "Only the back half of my parent's house is clothing optional," Betsy said. Sam looked around and spotted the stack of towels next to the sauna. She grabbed a towel and draped it over her shoulders so that it hung down and covered her breasts. She asked, "Is that better?" "Yes," Bess said. Betsy went over to the treadmill and started running. It was obvious by the pace she was keeping that she was upset. Near tears, she said, "I wanted this tea to go so well, and some jerk has to come along and spoil it." Surprised at how upset Betsy was, Bess said, "It's not your fault." "It's not fair that someone attacks the house the first time I have a guest over." The all clear sounded. The three women left the safe room in time to hear Gary say, "Our security doesn't suck. We've known each time you've entered or exited the condo since the moment you first arrived." "Why didn't you call me?" Ling asked. Looking at the angry expression on Betsy's face, Ling said, "Don't lose your temper with me, young lady. I'm your mother. You're not so big that I can't take you." "Mother! Outside! Backyard! Now!" Betsy shouted. "Uh, oh," Alice said. Betsy stormed out the back of the house. Ling followed behind. Gary looked at Bess and said, "You might or might not want to watch this." "What?" "Betsy and Ling are going to have a fight," Gary said. "There may be blood," Stacy said trying to warn Bess that it wasn't going to be pretty. "I don't want to miss this!" Sam said. "It's going to be the fight of the century," Wheels said. Curiosity overcoming her reluctance, Bess followed everyone to the rear of the house. No one went outside, but they all stood at the window to watch the action. It was like kids gathering around to watch a school yard fight. Bess asked, "What's the big deal?" "You are about to see the two most dangerous women in the world have a fight," Stacy answered. Bess turned her attention to outside just in time to see two whirling dervishes fly at each other. Their arms and legs were moving so fast that the eyes couldn't follow them. Suddenly, Ling was flying through the air. She landed, rolled, and came up ready to fight. Betsy was right there on top of her. Seeing a blow connect, Wheels said, "That had to hurt." A few seconds later, Betsy landed in one of the bushes. She exploded out of the bush with branches flying everywhere. She managed to fly over one of Ling's leg sweeps. "I just planted that bush," Sam said. "You're going to have to replant the whole backyard before they're done," Alice said. Bess couldn't believe what she was watching. One of Ling's flying kicks took down a tree. It might have been a small tree, but it was a tree none the less. "There goes the tree," Sam said. Gary said, "I think we're going to be here for a while." Ling was thrown across half of the yard before landing in the flower bed. She rolled and was on her feet in one smooth motion. Sam said, "Damn! Ling just took out the flowers." The two women fought in the middle of the flowerbed. Within a few seconds there wasn't a single flower left standing. Ling got in a blow that knocked Betsy back about ten feet. "They're going to kill each other," Bess said. Gary said, "Actually, they aren't going full out." "What do you mean?" Stacy said, "They're hitting muscles, not critical organs." There was a particularly fast exchange of kicks before both women staggered back from each other. The lull in fighting was less than three seconds. The return to action was fast and furious. "Betsy beat Penny Vinter after twenty minutes." "She beat Penny Vinter?" "Yes." "I didn't know that." "Neither one broke a bone although Penny's fake leg got bent and had to be replaced." "Ling once fought Oscar Meyers to a draw." "It helps when you have a God on your side." "That's true." Sam shouted, "They bent my new table!" "That was ... uh ... wrought iron?" "Yeah. It's gonna take me a month to straighten that." "Do you really think you can fix that?" "Hey! If I can't fix it, it is only because it ain't broke." The two women were starting to slow down. Gary checked his watch and said, "They've been at it for fifteen minutes." "Betsy is going to wear Ling down." "I don't know about that. Ling is more experienced." Betsy threw Ling against the side of the garden shed. The shed tilted. Dismayed, Bess said, "She hit that shed hard enough to break it. Why isn't she dead?" "It wasn't that hard of a hit. It's a matter of leverage and torque. She hit high on the side of the shed." By this time, there was very little of the backyard that hadn't been damaged as a result of the fight. The wooden lawn chairs next to the fire pit were splintered. Just about every plant had been shredded. Gary and Stacy would occasionally utter grunts or groans when a particularly solid blow was landed. There were a lot of blows that made contact. The two women staggered apart and stood there looking at each other for a few seconds. Both of them were breathing hard. "Is it over?" "Ling's too proud to quit yet." The woman attacked with renewed energy. Their kicks weren't as high or their moves as intricate, but they were still delivered with force and speed. Where earlier one of the women might have thrown the other for thirty feet, they were only managing twenty feet. It was clear they were getting tired. "So, Gary, if you had to fight one of them now, how long would you last?" "Maybe twenty or thirty seconds. How about you, Stacy?" "About the same." Bess asked, "How long would the world heavyweight boxing champion last?" Alice snorted and answered, "About ten seconds." "If that," Wheels said. "You can't be serious?" Bess said. "For every punch he threw, Ling would get in five bone breaking kicks. She's so fast, he'd never touch her," Gary said. Stacy said, "Betsy would use a leg sweep, get him on the ground, and then use heel kicks to pulverize him. Considering how fast she can move, she'd break half the bones in his body in ten seconds." The two woman came to a stop within arms reach of each other. Betsy pushed Ling who fell to the ground. Ling didn't get up. Betsy stood there for a moment and then dropped to the ground. When neither one moved, it was obvious the fight was over. Gary said, "Stacy and I'll check them for injuries. The rest of you get the first kits." While going out the back door, Stacy said, "It's probably best if I watch over Betsy." "You're probably right. I'll put Ling in my room and watch over her," Gary said. At least that would give him a chance to ask Ling to go home and not come back until Betsy invited her. Maybe in her weakened state she would only cripple him instead of kill him. In the living room, Bess was talking with Alice. She asked, "Who won?" "Betsy won," Alice answered. "It looked like a draw to me," Bess said. Alice said, "Betsy won. She proved to Ling that she didn't need her to watch over her." "Oh." "It's like a father and son fighting. One day there's a fight where the father has to admit that his son is a man. That's the last fight they'll have," Alice said. "You almost sound like you approve." "All three boys of mine went through that with their father. All of the men in my family are Marines. Of course, none of their fights lasted more than five minutes." "That's men." "Don't be confused by their gender. Betsy and Ling are warriors." Bess said, "I guess I ought to head home. I don't think Betsy will be up to playing hostess." "I'm sorry this had to happen. You have no idea how much Betsy wanted this tea to go perfectly. She really wants to be your friend," Alice said. "Why?" Bess asked. "Because she needs a friend." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 7 Ling woke up, immediately aware that every part of her body hurt. She started going through the mental inventory of body parts. Ribs? It hurt to breathe, so she had a couple of cracked ribs. She gingerly moved her arms, legs, fingers, and toes. She was relieved to discover that there weren't any casts. There weren't any broken bones. She tried to locate a muscle that wasn't screaming out in pain, and failed, miserably. She knew it was going to hurt to get up and try to move around. She would have bruises that would look horrible for the next couple of weeks. It would be a good time to stay indoors as much as possible. She figured it would be a good time for her to give a public talk at a charity event for abused women, but she didn't think her husbands would appreciate the message it would send. Ling opened her one good eye and looked at the figure seated in a chair by the side of the bed. It wasn't Gary or Stacy or Betsy. No uniform, so it couldn't be a nurse. She focused and recognized the woman as Betsy's housekeeper. "How do I look?" "Bad enough to give nightmares to women who work at department store cosmetic counters," Alice answered. Ling started to chuckle, but the pain stopped her. "Don't make me laugh." "Then quit asking stupid questions," Alice replied with a smile. "It wasn't a stupid question," Ling muttered. "How did you expect to look after having a knock down drag out fight that lasted for more than thirty minutes with one of the toughest fighters in the world?" "Okay, it was a stupid question," Ling admitted. "I remember when my husband and my oldest boy got into their big fight. My son came in with a black eye, a bloody nose, bruises on half of his body, and limping like his left leg was four inches shorter than the other. My husband wasn't in any better shape. The first words my husband said to me, was that his little boy wasn't a little boy anymore. I knew that admitting that, hurt him more than his injuries from the fight," Alice said. "I know how he felt," Ling said softly. Alice said, "I told him, just look at what a fine young man he has become. You've been a good father. He does you proud. And I'll say to you that Betsy is a fine young woman." A tear came to Ling's eye. In a voice that was almost too quiet to hear, she said, "Thank you." "I'll let you rest. You need to get some sleep so that you can heal," Alice said. Ling didn't answer. She had already fallen asleep. Alice adjusted the sheet around Ling before tip-toeing out of the room. She paused at the door and looked at the sleeping woman. She remembered back to the times when she had done the same for her husband, a warrior returning from war. He had been recovering from wounds received in battle, and was striving to regain the strength necessary to go forth and do battle again. She looked over at Gary and asked, "How's Betsy?" "She was in pain, but she's sleeping now," Gary answered. "I think the tea party ended poorly, but was a success, all in all," Alice said. She felt that Betsy had managed to present some aspects of herself to Bess that might allow the other woman to accept her better. Inviting her over for tea was much better than wine and cheese or even the more mainstream 'American coffee break.' Gary said, "I'll sit and watch Ling, now." ------- Ling returned to Arizona the next day, after a tear-filled parting (all of the tears being shed by Ling). A very sleepy and groggy Betsy was barely aware that Ling was leaving. Ling walked out of the house with a limp, holding her ribs. She moaned with nearly every step, like a very old woman. ------- It was three days after the great fight before Betsy awoke fully, for the first time. She bounced out of bed full of energy. In a manner reminiscent of John Carter, her bruises were barely visible, and all of the cuts had healed. She walked into the kitchen, surprising Alice with the announcement, "I'm starving." "You're up." "Yes, and I'm very hungry," Betsy said. "I'm making breakfast," Alice said pointing to the griddle where a half dozen pancakes were in the process of cooking. Betsy said, "I'm very, very hungry." "You keep saying that," Alice said wondering if Betsy was feeling okay. "It's just that I don't remember ever feeling this hungry before," Betsy said. "I'm not surprised that you're hungry. You haven't eaten anything for three days," Alice said. She used a spatula to pile the pancakes on a plate. She turned back to make another batch of pancakes. She poured out another half dozen pancakes on the griddle. She put the pitcher of pancake batter back on the counter. She went to put the plate with pancakes into the warm oven to keep them hot and discovered that that the plate was empty. She looked at Betsy who was staring at the griddle while bouncing up and down on her toes. "Did you eat all of those pancakes?" "Uh ... Yeah." Betsy knew that at her parent's house Marguerite would have tried to hit her hand with the spatula when she reached for food like that. Even though Marguerite had never successfully touched Betsy's hand with the spatula, the threat still tended to keep Betsy from reaching for things. Alice hadn't yet learned that trick. "You must have inhaled them," Alice said noticing that Betsy's bouncing had sped up a little. "I'm still hungry," Betsy said. Alice flipped the pancakes to cook on the other side. These were the large eight inch diameter pancakes. She figured the first six should hold Betsy until breakfast was ready. Alice said, "You can wait in the dining room. Breakfast will be ready in a little bit." "All right," Betsy said. Alice piled the pancakes on the plate. She reached for the pitcher of pancake batter and glanced at the plate. Half of the pancakes were gone. She turned in time to see Betsy wolf down another pancake. It just disappeared into her mouth. Betsy's hand flew out and grabbed another pancake. "You've eaten eleven pancakes," Alice said just in time to see the twelfth pancake disappear from the plate. "I'm hungry," Betsy said just before stuffing the twelfth pancake in her mouth. Alice asked, "Can't you wait for me to finish cooking breakfast for everyone?" Betsy frowned and then answered, "No. I'm very hungry." "You'll get sick wolfing your food down like that," Alice said. "I don't think so," Betsy said. She patted her abdomen and said, "My stomach feels empty, already." By the time Betsy finally announced that she was no longer hungry, the entire staff had watched her consume an inhuman quantity of food. It was almost like watching a hotdog eating contest. Patting her stomach, Betsy said, "I really needed that. Well, I'm going swimming." Everyone watched her head out the door. She ran off without a single glance back. There was stunned silence in the kitchen. Finally, Gary announced, "I guess Betsy is feeling okay now." "It looks that way," Stacy said. Sam, in the same tone of voice that Betsy had used, said, "I'm hungry." Everyone laughed. Alice said, "I'm out of food." The laughter died. Wheels said, "You're kidding." "No. You're going to have to go to a restaurant and eat breakfast today," Alice said. Outside, Betsy had slowed down long enough to look at the devastation the fight had done to the backyard. Sam had spent the time since the fight clearing out most of the debris. The tree that had been broken, the leaning shed, and the bent wrought iron table were the most visible signs of damage that remained. It wasn't obvious that the backyard had once hosted a very lush garden. It was now barren. "Wow," Betsy said before continuing her run to the beach. Betsy ran into Bess on the beach. Embarrassed about the fight, Betsy went over to Bess to apologize. Bess watched the young woman approach unable to believe that she was able to move much less run. Bouncing on her toes, Betsy said, "I want to apologize for having ruined our tea. I was having such a good time until my mother came along and ruined it." "I was watching a comedy movie last night. It had two men digging a hole. One man would dig out a shovelful of dirt and throw it to his right. The other man would dig out a shovelful of dirt and throw it to his left. Each man was filling in the hole being dug by the other." "That's funny," Betsy said. It got me to thinking about you and your need to always be moving in some fashion. I think I have an idea," Bess said. "What?" Betsy asked. "Do you think if you were to sit on the beach that you could dig a hole with your left hand and throw the dirt to the right while digging a hole with your right hand while throwing the dirt to your left?" Betsy said, "I could try." She sat down on the beach and started digging. Bess sat down across from her. She said, "That's a whole lot better." "That's kind of like riding the stationary bike, isn't it? It keeps me moving with really moving around that much." "That's what I thought," Bess said. Betsy said, "I wonder why no one ever suggested this before." Bess said, "I want to talk with you a little, about your afternoon tea." "You had miserable time," Betsy said. "Actually, I dreaded coming over to your house. I was afraid that you'd meet me at the door, naked, and there would be naked people walking around smoking strange cigarettes or having sex with each other. I was surprised and pleased to see that you were dressed in a very nice outfit..." "It got destroyed," Betsy said. "And I really liked it." "That's a shame it was ruined," Bess said. "I didn't expect a young woman your age to know the first thing about having an afternoon tea. The tea was one of the best I've ever drank and the finger sandwiches were delicious. To learn that you and your mother, Ling, would have formal Victorian style teas absolutely shocked me. "Years ago, I visited London when my husband had a business trip there. One day while he was stuck in a meeting I had afternoon tea complete with scones and jam. I had to dress nicely. I even had to wear white gloves. I really enjoyed that day. I felt like I was a character in Agatha Christie novel. I had forgotten that until you started telling me your story." "Maybe one day we can go there and do that," Betsy said. Bess said, "I'll admit that I was a little shocked when you talked about fighting two Chinese gangs. Ladies, particularly ladies of breeding, do not fight Chinese gangs. It was so contradictory with you sitting there having tea. "Then I watched you and your mother fight. Now, I will say that I abhor violence, but what you and your mother were doing was amazing. I will admit that I was a little upset when I left your house, but more than that – I was confused. I didn't know what to make of you." Betsy said, "I'm sorry that you were upset." Bess said, "Your housekeeper made a comment before I left the house. She said you and your mother are warriors. I talked with my husband about my concerns of living next door to a warrior that night, because frankly, the term warrior brings visions of barbarians to mind. "My husband told me some things that I had never really thought about before. He changed my opinion of what it meant to be a warrior by giving examples of Samurai Warriors, and American Military Officers. "He started talking about an Officer and a Gentleman. An officer leads men into dangerous situations taking responsibility for what happens to the men who serve under him. He shares their danger and is capable of tremendous violence, but only when necessary. On the other hand, that same man is expected to be a gentleman. He should feel comfortable having afternoon tea during a social occasion, attend embassy parties with a diversity of cultures present in one room, and be able to sit down and have a calm rational discussion with his worst enemy. "The military now accepts women officers. In a way, I guess that makes them an Officer and a Lady. Maybe you didn't go into the military, but you are a warrior of the same kind. I think that allows me to understand you better." Impressed, Betsy said, "A lot of people never make that connection. You husband is a perceptive man and you are a insightful and compassionate woman to take the time required to come to that conclusion." "Thank you," Bess said. Betsy said, "I'd like to thank you." "For what?" Bess asked. "You're the first person outside of my family and staff who has ever taken the time to just talk to me," Betsy said. "That's a shame." Betsy said, "When I was running from Phoenix to Hollywood, I realized that it was long past time for me to be on my own. I'm twenty-four years old, I had already earned my first hundred million, and I had a Masters in Marine Science. I mean, if I didn't leave now, when would I leave? It was one of those questions you don't like to ask yourself. My answer came, that I could end up staying there forever. "So I made the decision to leave. Then the fear set in. I was so afraid of moving here because I wasn't going to have the kind of loving support that I had at home. I had nightmares of being that old woman living in a house with a hundred cats. "I didn't even plan on having staff. My parents talked me into hiring them purely on the basis of need. I accepted purely on the basis of not having to live alone. It is kind of sad, isn't it." "Very sad." Betsy smiled as she dug another handful of sand and said, "So I thank you for taking the time to talk to me." "My pleasure," Bess said. "We've talked a lot about me. What you do?" "I'm basically just a housewife. I have recently taken to helping organize charity events," Bess said. "My family was kind of different so I don't really know what it means to be a housewife. What does a housewife do?" "I make sure the house is clean and there are meals on the table. Although I don't do the work, I do supervise the women who do the work," Bess said finding it incredulous that anyone could even ask that question. Betsy said, "In Victorian Times, you would be the Lady of the House. It was the responsibility of the Man of the House to run a business to support the family and manage the money. It was the responsibility of the Lady of the House to run the house and assure that the budget was maintained. In a way, it was what made a husband and wife true partners in a Victorian Marriage." The term Lady of the House actually sounded far nicer than 'just a housewife' as she had used to describe herself. They had a nice house which was kept clean and there were good meals, but what Betsy described might be considered a step beyond that. There was a sense of partnership in the term that was lacking in how she described herself. There was a time when she described herself as a mother and a housewife, but her kids were grown and had moved away from home. She was still a mother, but a mother without the responsibilities that came from the act of raising children. She wondered when she had dropped the 'mother and housewife' and transitioned to 'just a housewife.' "I also raised our son and daughter. Our son owns an investment management company. Our daughter is a lawyer," Bess said with pride in having raised children who were so accomplished. Betsy said, "My family believes that love is helping someone grow into the best person they can be. What do you do to help your husband?" "I do my best to be supportive. I stand behind him and cheer him up when things are not going well. A lot of times, I just listen to him talk while he's trying to solve some problem." Almost everyday, she and her husband would take long walks along the beach. Often, their little journey started with him telling her his problems. She would listen and nod appropriately while he worked out his issues. Although she seldom gave suggestions, it always seemed that he was far more relaxed by the time they returned home. "Do you give him massages when he's tense?" "No. I don't know how to do that." Betsy said, "I don't know how to do that either, but I think I'm going to learn how because I know husbands like that." "How do you know husbands like that?" "Because I've seen my Daddies after my Mommies give them one. They are very relaxed and extremely happy." "If you find a place that gives lessons, let me know. I think I'd be interested in learning that." The fact was that if it wasn't for her charity work, she would have been bored out of her mind – a strange thing to say for someone living on an island paradise. Perhaps taking massage lessons would eat up too much of her time, but it had the advantage of being a nice treat for her husband as well. Maybe other classes, such as cooking, might have that kind of duel benefit. "Sure," Betsy said. Bess sat there for a minute and then said, "I guess I should apologize for how my husband reacts when he sees you." "What does he do?" Betsy asked. "He tends to stare at you and drool." Betsy said, "I know about him. He also gets an erection when I greet him with a hug, but that's only because he hasn't gotten used to me yet. One day, he'll look in my direction and say, 'there's Betsy.' That will be the end of it." "How can you say that?" Betsy was about to launch into a description of the peculiarities of the first year dorm at the Druid college, but thought better of it. That didn't actually describe this situation since there were always Druids around to correct any major behavioral problems. She then remembered a discussion that she once had with one of her mothers. "The first few times it happened to me, I was really bothered. I went to Momma Ling and she said that I should just hit the guy and forget about him. Momma Claire said it was a natural response that was temporary. She then began to tell me about strip clubs and how men behave in them. She..." "Did she work in strip club?" "Not really. She was a cop before marrying into the family and had to go in a few of those places as part of her job. You know ... fighting, causing a disturbance, drunken behavior, and other things that require a police presence." "I see. So she told you about what goes on inside one." Betsy nodded her head and said, "She told me you could spot the guy who was new to the scene because he was staring at all of the women and ignoring his beer. A guy who has been into a club a couple of times, spends as much time staring at the women as he does on his beer. A regular spends all of his time drinking his beer and talking to his buddies while basically giving the women the level of attention he would if she were clothed in a regular bar." "I don't believe that." "Claire said there is a way to test it without having to go to a strip club." "How?" "You hang a picture of a nude woman on the wall. The first few times he comes in the house, he will really look at it. By the end of the week, he won't notice it is there until you remove it." Bess sat there thinking about it. She was halfway tempted to try Betsy's idea, but knew that Betsy was correct. She'd seen examples of that kind of thing her entire life. It wasn't only with nude women, but all kinds of things. There would be a phase of extreme interest in something new or different, then a period of acceptance and appreciation, and then it would move into the back to be unnoticed. She remembered her father's reaction to her first two piece swimsuit. Everyone took notice of it at first. Then one day, she noticed that everyone had on bathing suits that were much more revealing and nobody was shocked by her brief attire. She looked at Betsy seeing that she was still digging and filling holes. At times, she worked faster than others. When she was thinking about something, she would speed up. When she was waiting for a response, she would slow down. It was just the opposite of what one might have expected. It was kind of surprising that someone so young and active was so insightful. Betsy said, "Nudity is a big thing with you, isn't it?" "It's just not done in public," Bess said primly. Betsy looked around and then asked, "What public?" "We're not the only ones who use the beach. There are other residents..." "You mean like the neighbors on the other side of my house who come here for one month a year?" "Yes." "Or the ones a couple of houses up who haven't visited in three years?" "Yes." "So there are like five houses along this section of the beach with people who occasionally come down to the beach, right?" "Yes." "Huge public." "Okay, so it is effectively a private beach," Bess admitted. Betsy asked, "So why not be nude when you and your husband take your walk sometime?" "I..." Bess was at a loss for words. She couldn't come up with an answer to save her life. She wasn't going to admit that she had lost her young figure and that some body parts had settled in ways that weren't exactly flattering. Before she would dare take off her clothes where others could see, she would have to spend some time in a gym, getting a little of her old figure back. Betsy looked out at the water and said, "I've taken up too much of your time. I'm going to swim for a bit and then head back to the house. I've got to arrange to get into school." "Okay, Betsy." Betsy jumped up and was gone in a flash. It was amazing how quickly the young woman could move. Bess got up and slowly moved towards her house, deep in thought. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 8 In the short time she had worked for Betsy, life for Charlie had been interesting. Still unable to get around with any kind of ease, Charlie was more than happy to sit behind the desk and take care of the hundreds of little things, that had been ignored by Betsy. She'd been stunned to discover that Betsy hadn't even bothered to open a local bank account. She had been shocked one day, to discover a past due statement buried with the stack of mail that had accumulated over a couple of weeks. She had scrambled for a few days putting the accounts in shape, so that the bills got paid on time, using local checks. She had gotten credit cards for use by the staff when charging for household items. Just when it appeared that things were settling down, Betsy ran into the room and sat down on the stationary bike. The young woman had announced, "It's time to get me enrolled in school." "Uh ... Okay," Charlie replied. "When will I be able to start?" Charlie answered, "I have to find out the deadlines for applying, and arrange for all of the appropriate paperwork to get submitted. Then, if you are accepted, you'll start at the beginning of the Fall or Spring semester." "Why can't you just call up the president of the university and tell him I want to go to school there," Betsy asked. Charlie wasn't entirely surprised by the question. Her discussions with the staff of the Carter Clan in Arizona had given her sufficient warning that family members tended to go directly to the point and not allow anything to get in their way. The challenge for the staff was to make sure that not very many things got in their way. Charlie said, "Let me make some telephone calls, and get back to you." "Okay," Betsy said, right before bolting out of the room. Charlie went to the website and examined the web pages presenting the University's application process. It looked like the earliest that Betsy could get into the school was nine months from now. A new term was about to start and it appeared that processing the application would take her into the next term. She called the admissions office and got the generic answer that the application schedule was on the website and they couldn't make exceptions for anyone. Of course, Charlie knew that organizations like that made exceptions on a regular basis. In the worst case, Betsy could show up at the president's office, drop a ten million dollar check on his desk, and announce that she wanted to start school now, knowing full well that she would be able to do so. Before going that route, she decided to call the department chair and find out if there were any ways to expedite the process. She knew that a little pressure from a Chair or a Dean could open doors. It took a little time for her to get past the department secretary and connected to the department chair, a man by the name of Professor Parrish. Once she got him on the line, she said, "Hello, Professor Parrish. My name is Charlie Jones. I'm the secretary for Betsy Carter..." He interrupted, "Betsy Carter? The Shark?" "Uh ... I don't know if she's the shark," Charlie replied. "The Shark is a member of the Carter Clan," he said. "That's Betsy," Charlie said "What can I do for her?" he asked excitedly. Charlie said, "She wants to get doctorate at your university." "She wants to get her doctorate, here?" "Yes." There was a moment of silence and then he asked, "When is she hoping to start?" "This coming semester," Charlie answered bracing herself for a no. "I didn't notice an application from her," Professor Parrish said. Charlie said, "She hasn't applied yet." "Oh. That's a problem," he said. "I'm sure it is," Charlie said. "Let me make a couple of phone calls. I'll see what I can do." "Thank you," Charlie said. After hanging up, Charlie went back to the website, and started generating a checklist of what had to be done. From the student's perspective it wasn't that difficult to apply, although there were a few little things that had to be managed. There was a basic application form that had to be filled out. She'd have to arrange for transcripts from all of her previous schools to be sent to the university. Of course, she'd have to pay the application fee. Since money wasn't an issue, she wouldn't have to worry about any of the financial aid forms. Charlie had just finished generating the list when her phone rang. She answered, "Carter residence. You're speaking to Charlie Jones." "This Lou Parrish. We can conditionally admit Betsy as soon as she submits an application. We'll convert her over to a regular student status, as soon as her application has been processed and accepted. There are no doubts that she'll be accepted." "That's good to hear," Charlie said. "If you submit the application online this afternoon, we can have her admitted by close of business," he said. "Really?" "For the chance to have The Shark in our program, I'd move mountains. Every university in the world, if they study sharks, wants her. I'm not going to blow the chance to get her," he said. "I'll get the application in," Charlie said. "Give me a call. I'll make sure the folks over in the other office move on it," he said. "I'll do that," Charlie said. "Great! I'll clear out an office for her." "Okay." "She'll need an exercise bike, right?" "Yes," Charlie answered surprised by his knowledge of that little detail. "No problem," he said. "I'll be waiting to hear from you." Charlie hung up the telephone, surprised by the conversation. She had gone into the process thinking that she'd have to twist some arms to get Betsy into the program. To find out that the university would move mountains based on Betsy's reputation, was an interesting turn of events. Betsy bounced into the room and asked, "Am I accepted yet?" Charlie answered, "I just got off the phone with Professor Parrish..." "You talked to Lou?" "Yes." "He's a great guy. I had forgotten that he worked there. It's going to be fun working with him again," Betsy said brightly. "You know him?" "He visited our lab when I was working on my Masters." "Well, I've got to get your application filled out, and I'll need some information from you," Charlie said. "Call up Mary Gold. She's got copies of all my school stuff filed away somewhere. She can fill out the application for you," Betsy said. "I'll do that," Charlie said. "I'll be back in a bit to find out how things are going," Betsy said while running out of the office. "Someone needs to prescribe some sedatives for that girl," Charlie muttered, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, a cold chill ran down her spine. She shivered and looked around. Charlie called Mary Gold and filled her in on the discussion with the university. Thirty minutes later, Mary Gold called back to let her know that the application had been submitted. Ten minutes later, the admissions office called to let her know that the application had been received, and that Betsy was admitted as a probationary student. Five minutes later, her phone rang again. Picking up the phone, Charlie said, "Carter residence. This is Charlie Jones." Professor Parrish said, "Betsy has been accepted. The Provost is having a meet and greet for all of the new graduate students, tonight. Betsy is invited to attend." "I'll let her know," Charlie said. "I'm sure she would like to attend." "It starts at 7:00. I'll send you an email with directions on where to go," he said. "Thank you." She had no sooner hung up when Betsy popped into the room and asked, "Is it done?" "Yes. There's a meet and greet with the Provost, tonight, at 7:00," Charlie said. "Do I have to go?" "It would be a good idea," Charlie said. "They went to a lot of trouble to get you into the program so quickly." Betsy wrinkled her face and said, "I hate cocktail parties. You're supposed to stand there and chat about nothing, with people you don't know or like. Have you ever seen me do that 'stand there' bit?" "That could be a problem," Charlie said. "Yeah." Charlie said, "You should probably do it, anyway. You might want to stop and see Professor Parrish, to thank him for all of his help in getting you admitted." "Okay." ------- Provost Newcome, Dean Whitaker, and Professor Parrish were standing together in the club room, watching the handful of new doctoral students talking nervously with each other. It was kind of sad to watch. The students were all strangers to each other, and would probably remain that way for most of their time at the university. The conversations were stilted and awkward. Provost Newcome asked, "Where's your special student?" "She's not here, yet." "She is coming, isn't she?" "Yes. She stopped in my office earlier, and we chatted a bit about her research goals. She mentioned that she didn't have an outfit appropriate for a cocktail party and had to swing by a store to pick up one," Professor Parrish answered. "I would hardly call this a cocktail party," Dean Whitaker said. "I explained to her that a pantsuit would be appropriate. She still had to swing by a store since all of her clothes were at home." The Provost said, "That exercise machine over in the corner kind of ruins the atmosphere." "I had it brought here," Professor Parrish said sheepishly. "Why?" "For Ms. Carter to use while she's here," Professor Parrish answered a little uneasily. It was going to be very difficult to explain until after they had met her. "What on earth for?" "She's a little energetic. You'll see what I mean when she gets here." Provost Newcome said, "Talk about a little energetic. You'll never believe what I saw when I was walking across the campus earlier." "What?" "I saw a young woman doing one handed cartwheels all of the way from the parking lot over to student center. She then did somersaults up the stairs. Can you believe that?" "Yes," Professor Parrish said. "I think I know that particular student." Betsy entered the room walking very stiffly. She was holding her face tight. Anyone who knew her, could tell that she was trying not to bounce around or run. Anyone who didn't know her, would assume that she was performing a very poorly executed parody of Frankenstein's monster. Professor Parrish pointed to her and said, "There she is." "Is she okay?" the Dean asked. "She's okay. You'll see what I mean in a moment." Betsy made it to where Professor Parrish was standing. In a tight, very controlled voice, she said, "Hello ... Professor ... Parrish." "I had them bring an exercise bike for you. It's right over there in the corner," Professor Parrish said. Betsy jumped up in the air, landed, she picked him up, hugged him, kissed him on the cheeks, set him down, and then said, "Thank you!" Before he had a chance to respond, she was running to the exercise bike. Weakly he said, "You're welcome." Very amused, the Dean said, "I've never been greeted by a student like that." "Neither have I," the Provost said with a smile. Professor Parrish said, "Let's go over there, and I'll introduce you." "We might as well," the Provost said. Once they reached the exercise bike, Professor Parrish said, "Betsy, I'd like you to meet Provost Newcome and Dean Whitaker." "Nice to meet you," Betsy said. "Gentleman, this is Betsy 'The Shark' Carter. As you are aware, she just joined our Marine Studies program as a doctoral student." "It's nice to meet you," the Provost said. "We're expecting great things from you," the Dean said. Betsy said, "It's really nice to meet you. Which one of you do I talk to about the funds for my research?" "Well, that's more of Professor Parrish's job," the Dean said. "Really?" Betsy asked. The Provost said, "He'll have to help you write the research proposals and grant applications for you to get funding." Betsy asked, "Who do I give the money to?" "Professor Parrish will take care of that," the Dean said. Betsy turned to Professor Parrish and asked, "So I give the check to you?" "What check?" the Dean asked. "The check to provide the funds for my research," Betsy said. The Provost said, "Excuse me, I think I misunderstood you. Did you say that you had a check to cover the expenses of your research?" "Sure. I talked to my brother and he said that I could easily provide a couple million a year for a boat, gas, and equipment. After all, Daddy Leroy paid the costs for most of his research and it got him a Nobel Prize. There's no reason I can't do the same. Besides, William told me that it would be a good tax write-off," Betsy said. The Provost said, "I will be more than happy to arrange for the appropriate person to contact you." Betsy opened her purse and pulled out a check. She held it out and said, "Here's the first million." "Thank you," the Provost said taking the check. She said, "Once I hire an accountant, I'll get the rest of it to you." "We'll look forward to it," the Provost said double checking the number of zeros on the check. Betsy turned to Professor Parrish and asked, "So can we go out and look at boats tomorrow?" The Dean said, "He'll be delighted to go look at boats with you tomorrow." "Great," Betsy said. She frowned and said, "Oh wait. I haven't really finished furnishing my condo and if I'm going to start living here instead of on the other island, then I should probably have some furniture. Maybe we should go look at boats the day after tomorrow." "That would be fine," Professor Parrish said. Betsy noticed Gary enter the room, and look around for her. She leaned over and waved at him. When he didn't see her, she shouted, "Hey, Gary! I'm over here." "Who is Gary?" Professor Parrish asked. "He's my security guy." "He doesn't look very happy." "That's because he's slow and can't run as fast as me," Betsy said rolling her eyes. Professor Parrish said, "Speaking of security. How's Ling and Claire?" "Momma Ling is healing and Momma Claire is trying to set another world's record for shooting," Betsy answered. "Ling is healing? Was she seriously hurt?" Professor Parrish asked. ""She's fine. Just a few bruises," Betsy said. Gary reached the exercise bicycle. He said, "You're going to have to stop running off like that." Betsy said, "I'm sorry. Would you mind getting me some of those snacks from over there?" "No problem," Gary said. Betsy asked, "How's your wife?" "She's fine. She's out looking for a new car tonight. Her's died." "I could fly my car person over to look at her car," Betsy offered. "That's okay. I think my wife is looking forward to a new car." Betsy said, "I hope you and your wife come visit me at my house on Kauai." "I thought you said that you had a condo here," Professor Parrish said. "I do, but my real house is on Kauai. I just bought it a couple weeks ago. It is right on the beach. It is so great. I've got sharks in my backyard," Betsy said. "What kind?" "Gray reef sharks. It is so cool. I swim with them all of the time." Dean Whitaker said, "You swim with them?" "The reason that Betsy's nickname is 'the Shark' is because she has an ability to move into a school of sharks and become one of them," Professor Parrish said. He hadn't believed it until he had seen it. She had been swimming with hammerhead sharks the first day he had met her. He had gone down with a camera crew to film the sharks in action. He had turned around just in time to see four sharks and Betsy swimming past him. "With the rebreather, I can stay down there for days," Betsy said. "What about sleep?" the Provost asked. "Sharks don't sleep." Professor Parrish explained, "She becomes one of them. It is like she is a shark. She learns about shark behaviors by experiencing and performing them with the sharks. I've witnessed her right there in amongst them during a feeding frenzy." "That's fascinating," the Provost said. "I've never heard of such a thing," the Dean said. Betsy said, "It's not all that rare. A lot of primate researchers go off and live with primates. Nobody thinks anything of that." "We're talking sharks here," the Provost said. "A shark is no more dangerous than a gorilla," Betsy said. "My brother and his wife lived around gorillas during one of his expeditions. He said they can get pretty aggressive at times." Gary returned with a plate piled full of food. He held it out for Betsy and said, "Here's a little snack. We've got reservations for supper later so you shouldn't eat too much." The Dean noticed how much food was on the plate and looked at Gary as if he was crazy if he considered that to be a little snack for a young woman. The women on campus were always worried about their figure. Betsy took the plate. She ate a couple of pieces of cheese. Looking over at Gary, she said, "Thank you. I was starting to get hungry." Gary stepped back and watched the room. It was obvious by his behavior that he wasn't going to be a party of the conversation taking place. The Dean wondered how it would be to have to live with a bodyguard all of the time. He imagined it got irritating not to have any privacy. "Aren't you ever afraid of the sharks?" the Provost asked. "No. My family likes animals and they like us." Professor Parrish said, "We'd love it if any of your family wanted to give a seminar on their work with animals. Leroy Jones, Jr. could talk about his research on Chronic Wasting Disease or on the changes that winning the Nobel Prize made in his life. John Carter, Jr. could talk about his efforts to protect endangered species. We'd all love to hear Susan Carter talk about her discovery of new plant species." Well aware of the fame of the Carter Clan, the Provost said, "You have quite a distinguished family. We would be honored if any member of your family were to come to campus and present a seminar." Betsy said, "The one you want to talk, here, is Daddy Bill. He's really making the world a better place." "He's the one helping create a new kind of recycling plant?" the Dean asked. "Exactly." "Waste is a huge problem on the islands," the Provost said. "I know," Betsy said. "I've been thinking about investing in a recycling plant here, on one of the islands. I need to convince Daddy Bill to start making a small version of his facilities that can be used at a municipal level." "That's very interesting," the Dean said. He glanced at the plate and noticed that all of the food was gone. He hadn't noticed her eating, but there wasn't any food on the floor. Betsy noticed him staring at her plate. "I have a high metabolism." "I guess you must," the Dean said. Betsy turned to Gary and said, "Do you see that girl over there?" "Which one?" "The one in the red dress." "Yes." "Why don't you invite her over here?" Gary looked over at the young woman. She was one of the more timid of the students gathered there. He had not observed her talking to anyone. In fact, she tended to step aside when anyone even approached her. Gary said, "Okay." Professor Parrish looked in the direction Betsy was pointing. He said, "That's Sally Tilton. She's interested in fish parasites." "That's an unusual topic," the Provost said. "It's a very important topic," Betsy said. "Don't forget how much food we get from the ocean." "I guess it would be important, when looked at that way," the Provost said. Sally Tilton followed Gary over to the corner with the exercise machine. The only reason she had followed him, was because she had spotted the gun under his sport coat and figured that she didn't want to antagonize him. Betsy said, "Hello, Sally." "Uh ... hello..." "I'm Betsy and I'm here to study sharks," Betsy said. "Uh ... that's ... nice." "I understand that you're interested in fish parasites." "Yes." "That's great," Betsy said. Professor Parrish said, "Hello, Sally. I'd like you to meet Provost Newcome and Dean Whitaker." "Hello," Sally said trying to disappear into the carpet. The Provost said, "Betsy was just explaining how important parasite research could be." "Uh ... the ... uh ... economic impact of parasites could be ... very ... uh ... ah ... big," Sally said. Betsy laughed. "What's so funny?" the Dean asked. She said, "If you averaged the speed that she talks with the speed that I talk, you'd end up with two normal speakers." "Uh ... that's ... funny," Sally said cracking a weak little smile. She looked at the door wondering how quickly she could reach it. Betsy turned to the Provost and said, "Can I support her research, too?" "Most certainly," the Provost said. "Great. I'll call William. Maybe she should talk to Leroy, too," Betsy said. Gary leaned over and tapped Betsy on the shoulder. In a whisper that was loud enough to carry over to Sally, he said, "Betsy. I think you're scaring her." "How?" Betsy asked looking puzzled. "You have a strong personality and some people find that intimidating," Gary answered. Sally, taking advantage of the fact that Gary was distracted, leaned over to the Provost and whispered, "He ... ah ... has a ... gun." The Provost said, "I know. Don't worry about it. He's her bodyguard." "Oh." Betsy said, "We're going to dinner. Would you like to come along?" "Uh ... Well ... no." "Oh. Okay. Maybe next time," Betsy said. "Thank you," Sally said. Betsy asked, "How much do you think your research will cost?" "I don't ... know." Professor Parrish said, "We've been exchanging emails and I've been looking into a grant for fifty thousand." "What?" Betsy asked. "About fifty thousand," Professor Parrish answered. "That's the start-up cost, right?" "No." "You're kidding?" "No." Betsy dug into her purse and pulled out he checkbook. She scribbled out a check, tore it off, and handed it to the Provost. She said, "Here's a hundred thousand for her research. Trying to get by on so little isn't going produce much of a result. If she needs more, just let me know." The Provost accepted the check and said, "Thank you." Betsy turned to Gary and said, "I'm hungry." "We can go anytime you're ready," Gary said. Betsy said, "Bye everyone. It's been nice meeting you." She took off without waiting for a reply. Gary said, "I better try to catch up with her." The Dean burst out laughing watching the man race towards the door. He turned to Professor Parrish and said, "Lou. You've got your work cut out for you." "I know." The Provost said, "We'll get her off probationary status, tomorrow." "Okay," Professor Parrish said. He looked around and asked, "Where did Sally go?" "I don't know." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 9 Betsy skipped down the hallway pausing to read the sign on each door. The other students in the hallway would move over to the other side to avoid getting hit by the jump rope. She stopped in front of one of the doors and read the name off the nameplate aloud, "Sally Tilton." She stepped back nearly hitting a student with her jump rope and read the sign on the door aloud, "Keep out." She stopped swinging the rope around, but kept up the jumping motion while knocking on the door. She called out, "Hello! Is anyone in there?" She waited a second and then called, "Hello! It's me! Are you in there?" The door opened a crack and an eye appeared. "Uh ... hello..." "Let's go eat," Betsy said. "Uh..." "I'm not going to take a no for an answer," Betsy said. "Uh..." Betsy said, "I'm going to stand out here and make a scene, until you say okay." "Please ... I..." Betsy resumed skipping rope shouting, "Let's go eat! Let's go eat! Let's go eat!" Sally said, "Okay! Okay! I'll go." "Lock your door, and let's go," Betsy said. Sally stepped out and locked the door. She turned to find Betsy halfway down the hall. She smiled and reached for the door to unlock it thinking she could slip off without being noticed. Gary sighed and then said, "Come with me. We'll go directly to the car and she'll go the long route. She'll beat us there anyway, but she won't have to wait so long." They walked towards the parking lot with Sally keeping a pretty good distance from Gary. "I'm actually a pretty nice guy. The only people who have to worry about me being not nice are people who want to hurt Betsy. You don't have to be afraid of me," Gary said. "Uh..." Gary looked over at her. She looked positively miserable. He said, "You're really shy. Betsy is anything except shy. I feel for you. I'm sure that you just want to crawl into a hole and hide." "Yes," Sally squeaked. "That's not going to work with Betsy. She'll find you," Gary said shaking his head. "Uh ... that's ... ah ... um ... Why is ... she doing ... this?" Sally asked. Gary said, "I can't figure that out. She picked you right out of the room full of people, for some reason. I don't know. Maybe she saw someone else who is lonely. I don't know." "Can you ... uh ... get her ... to stop?" "Nope," Gary said. Sally looked ready to cry. He said, "Look. When you are with her, all of the attention is going to be on her. You're going to be invisible. I kind of figure that you would prefer it that way." "Yes." "I can't figure out one thing, though," Gary said. He looked at her and asked, "Why did you go to that meet and greet?" Sally didn't answer. She walked along glancing around at her surroundings nervously. She spotted Betsy jumping from the roof of one building to another. Surprised by what she was seeing, she asked without stuttering or pause, "What is she doing?" "That is called Parkour. I have no idea when she picked that up, but she's pretty good at it. The whole secret of parkour is fearlessness, and Betsy is fearless," Gary said. "Ah ... is she ... crazy?" Sally asked. Gary chuckled knowing that Sally wasn't the only one wondering that. Rather than answer the question, he said, "One of her fathers is a black robed Druid. Do you know what that means?" "The ... uh ... Hermaphrodite... ," Sally answered. "Uh ... the scary one..." "Yes. Well, her father has to tell the truth. He can't lie, not even little white lies. That's pretty bad when the wife asks if her outfit makes her look fat and he has to answer that it does." Sally managed to giggle at that. "You asked me if she is crazy. He told me once that Betsy was touched by the Gods and Goddesses. I believe him. She has been touched by the Gods and Goddesses. The thing is, I don't know what that means." Sally didn't say anything, but continued to walk along beside Gary. He noticed that she was walking a little closer to him, though he didn't mention it. Betsy ran down a handrail, jumped to touch down with one foot on a parking meter, launched herself over a car, and landed in the parking with a roll. She came to a stop in front of the Hugger. "She beat us to the car," Gary said. "She's ... fast." "Yes, she is and she moves like that all day," Gary said. Once Betsy got into the car, Wheels drove it over to where Gary and Sally were walking. Gary opened a rear door for Sally and, bowing down while swinging a hand towards the open door, he said, "Entré vous, Mademoiselle." Wheels said, "Stick to English. Your French is atrocious." With a soft giggle, Sally got into the car. Gary shut the door and went around the car to get in the front passenger seat. Once he was in, Wheels took off like shot. He hadn't even had a chance to buckle his seatbelt. Gary turned to Wheels and said, "I have a gun. If you drive like a maniac, I will shoot you." Wheels laughed. Gary turned to look at Sally and said, "I get no respect." "I'm really getting hungry," Betsy said. Wheels said, "I know. We'll be there in a few minutes. I don't think our passenger will appreciate it if I drive down the stairs." "We're going to a seafood place. Is that okay with you?" Betsy asked. Sally nodded her head. She looked out the window, hoping that her pretended interest in her surroundings would deter Betsy from asking more questions. Betsy was not deterred. She asked one question after another about Sally's research. They weren't superficial questions, but detailed questions for which Sally was one of the few people who would know the answers. Sally answered the questions although there was a lot of stuttering, pauses, and general nervous sounds. Undeterred, Betsy just kept asking more questions. Wheels pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and announced, "We're here." Betsy said, "I'll get a table." Turning to Sally, Gary said, "They know us here. We have a table reserved in a private room. Don't worry." "Ah ... thanks," Sally said. Gary got out and went around to open the door for Sally. Sally was already waiting by the side of the car with Wheels standing next to her. Gary gestured with his head to Wheels to head on into the restaurant. He figured that he was making a little headway with Sally. "Your lunch awaits," Gary said. Sally walked beside Gary into the restaurant. She let him deal with the hostess and followed them into the private room that had been reserved. Betsy was in a chair with ankle weights and doing some sort of leg lift exercise. Betsy said, "Sit beside me. It'll be easier for us to talk." Sally moved into the chair next to Betsy. Gary and Wheels sat down in chairs at the other end of the table. Betsy said, "I have to move all of the time. It's been getting worse over the past few years. It was bad when I was a kid, but it is really bad now. My speech is fast, my gestures are almost spastic, and I just can't sit still. "You'd think that having a lot of energy would be great, but it isn't. Believe me, it isn't. "There are so many things that I can't do, and I envy people who can do them. I'd love to be able to sit through a symphony. I'd like to watch a Broadway play. I can't because I'd ruin the experience for everyone else there. That's not nice. "I know folks avoid me in school. I don't blame them. I'd like to sit still in class and take notes like all of the other students. I'd love to calmly walk down the hall without having to jump and touch the ceiling every three steps. "I'd love to be able to sit down and relax, but I can't. It's bigger than me." Sally looked like she didn't believe Betsy. Betsy said, "You know how it is when you really have to go to the bathroom. You can't sit still, and the longer you wait the worse it is." Sally nodded her head. Betsy said, "It's like that for me all of the time. Not that I have to go the bathroom, but that feeling of not being able to sit still. "I went to that meet and greet dreading going there. You try to stand there, just casually talking to people, while your whole body is screaming that it is time to move, to go, or to jump. I was so happy that Professor Parrish had put a stationary bike there for me so that I could pedal without looking like a total jerk. "So there I am at this event that I really didn't want to go to and then I spotted you. I recognized you right off the bat." Sally said, "Impossible." "I did. I said to myself, 'Sally Tilton and I can help each other.' So here we are," Betsy said. "You ... can't ... know me," Sally said. Betsy said, "That's where you're wrong. You see, I know a lot about you. I went to a conference in Seattle to see one paper there." "Oh, God!" Sally cried out. "You melted there in front of all of those people. It was horrible. You started crying, then you collapsed onto the floor, you curled in a little ball, and then started emitting little animal like noises. I cried for you. I mean, I wept real tears because I could understand just how you felt." "You can't possibly understand!" Sally shouted. Betsy said, "I stood in front of a huge crowd of people to present my work a couple of months before your experience. All those eyes turned to look at me. I kept thinking, stand up straight Betsy. Don't jump around, Betsy. Talk in a normal speed, Betsy. "My results were important. I knew that no one in the audience would take me seriously if I started doing my presentation while doing jumping jacks, jogging in place, or squats; and they wouldn't understand a word I said if I delivered my paper like an auctioneer at a cattle auction. "Can you understand how I felt?" Sally nodded her head. "I was luckier than you. My advisor stepped up and did the presentation while I walked quickly from the room. I then ran a hundred miles, crying nonstop. It seemed to me like I was the biggest idiot in the world. I wanted to die. I didn't want anyone to see me like that." Sally wiped the tears from her eyes. Betsy said, "Your situation was even worse. No one stepped in to take over for you. You were just left there on your own. Believe me, I cried for you. I searched for you, but didn't find you." "I ... was taken ... to a hospital," Sally said. "They ... they said it was a 'panic attack.'" Betsy shook her head and said, "That wasn't a panic attack. That was something different. I don't know what it was, but it wasn't panic. That was ... terror." "That's a good word for it." Betsy said, "I was very pleased to see that you were at the meet and greet. The moment I saw you, I felt like our destinies were entwined somehow." "Wow," Sally said wide-eyed. Betsy said, "I think that I'm to teach you how to have a confidence in public. You were afraid. I'm supposed to teach you how not to fear." "Teach me?" "Yes." "How?" "I don't know," Betsy said. "You were afraid to speak in public," Sally said pointing out the flaw in Betsy's plan. "I wasn't afraid to speak to speak in front of all of those people. I could have done jumping jacks and recited Shakespeare. That would have been no problem. I'd have probably had people rolling in the aisles with laughter doing Juliet's balcony scene. That wouldn't have bothered me a bit. "No, I was afraid of failing the science. I was afraid that important results would be relegated to obscurity because people didn't take me seriously." "I see," Sally said. Betsy said, "My problem can't be fixed." "How about sedatives?" Sally asked thinking it was a simple enough solution. A sudden chill ran down her spine. She shivered and looked around. "Maybe not." "Did you feel a chill run down your spine?" "Yes." "That always happens when someone makes that suggestion. It's kind of weird," Betsy said. "It's freaky," Sally said. Betsy looked over at the other end of the table and shouted, "Get the waiter. I'm hungry." Gary stood up and went over to the door. Betsy turned to Sally and said, "I recommend the broiled seafood platter." "Okay," Sally said. "Would you like me to order it for you?" "Please." "What do you want to drink?" "Iced Tea." "Okay," Betsy said. A few minutes later, the waiter entered the room. He went over to Betsy and asked, "What can I get you?" Pleased at being able to help Sally out, Betsy answered, "She's going to have the broiled seafood platter and an iced tea." Turning to Sally, he asked, "Would you prefer a salad, cole slaw, or apple sauce?" Sally looked around then mumbled, "Apple." Hitting her forehead, Betsy mumbled, "I forgot all about the sides." "Would you like French fries, baked potato, or rice pilaf?" "Uh ... baked." "Butter and sour cream." "Ah ... yes." Turning to Betsy, he asked, "For you." "I'll take two broiled seafood platters delivered about ten minutes apart. I'll have baked potato with extra butter and no sour cream, and a regular salad drowned in Thousand Island dressing. Could you add a pound of crab legs to that order and bring it with the first platter? I'll take four glasses of milk." Sally was staring at Betsy wide-eyed. She couldn't believe the young woman was actually ordering that much food. She assumed that Betsy would pack some of it up for later. "Do you want one of those to go?" the waiter asked. "No. I'm very hungry." While eating as much of her meal as she could, Sally watched Betsy consume every piece of food on both plates. Betsy then ordered two deserts which she polished off in no time at all. It was an amazing thing to watch. Betsy pushed the empty cake plate away and said, "That was good." "Do you always eat that much?" Sally asked. "I burn up a lot of calories every day. It's gotten worse lately and I'm eating more as a result," Betsy said. "That's amazing," Sally said. Betsy said, "There's a party Friday night. I'm going to it. I'd like to suggest that you go there with a date." "Uh ... a ... date?" "Yes. You will go with Gary." "That Gary?" Sally asked pointing over at the man. "Yes. Well, he'll actually be your escort. The great thing about this is that you won't have to worry about anything you say. You could tell the meanest biker that he looks like a ballerina and Gary will protect you." "Uh..." "Isn't that a great idea?" Betsy asked. "I don't think so," Sally answered. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 10 Sally walked into the room thinking that she had made a horrible mistake. There were a lot of people, none of whom she recognized, moving around. She grabbed Gary's arm to prevent being separated from him. Betsy had disappeared somewhere into the heart of the party. It was a typical frat party – a lot of testosterone driven young men, scantily dressed young women, too much booze, not enough light; and loud music, which made talking impossible. The air had the lingering hint of a sickly sweet smell of marihuana being smoked somewhere nearby. There were people dancing off to one side. It was difficult to tell who was part of a couple and who wasn't. People were just dancing, and looking around within a press of bodies. There were guys drinking massive quantities of beer in a mad dash to be the first one to pass out. They were loud, obnoxious, and stupid. The party would be over for them within half an hour. Gary lowered his head so that his mouth was next to Sally's ear and said, "Let's move off to the side where there are fewer people." "Please," Sally answered with a tone of desperation in her voice. The pair moved off to the side of the room where they had a good view of everything that was going on. It was the kind of location that a bodyguard would choose. He could see the beer keg, the dance floor, and the entrance to the room. He finally spotted Betsy dancing with a bunch of people. The music was loud and, in Gary's opinion, irritating. His eyes constantly moved around the room watching anyone and everyone for anything that might be a threat. He wasn't happy with the situation at all. This was the worst kind of duty that a bodyguard could draw. There was no way that he could protect Betsy and Sally at the same time. He had sworn to Betsy that he wouldn't leave Sally alone for even ten seconds. The thing that bothered him, was that when he had sworn to that, the air around him seemed to come alive in an unnatural manner. Just thinking about it made him cringe. When Sally hugged his arm even tighter, he asked, "Are you having fun?" "No," Sally answered. "I didn't think so," Gary said. "I don't know why I agreed to come here," Sally said. It wasn't the first time he noticed that Sally was speaking in a more natural manner. He assumed that he was earning her trust. He hoped that she was beginning to view him as a friendly father figure who would protect her if she were threatened. She seemed so vulnerable that it brought out every protective instinct he possessed. He asked, "Would you like to go outside?' "I really want to go outside, but I promised Betsy I'd stay for thirty minutes," Sally answered. "We won't tell her," Gary said. Sally looked uncomfortable for a second and then said, "The air kind of felt weird when I promised her that." "Okay. I'll check my watch every few minutes and we'll head out right after thirty minutes has passed," Gary said. "Thank you," Sally said. Gary took a minute to watch Betsy. She was enjoying herself on the dance floor. He could see that she was happy to be able to move around and talk to folks, without looking like an idiot. One young man started dancing next to her and then transitioned so that he was basically dancing with her. Betsy smiled and danced with the young man. Gary wasn't concerned, it all looked harmless enough. He leaned down to Sally's ear and said, "Betsy appears to be having fun." "She does," Sally said. "Would you like to dance?" Gary asked hoping that she would answer no. "No." They stood apart from everyone else exchanging little observations about events at the party. They laughed about a guy who was dancing like a spastic chicken, and the mortified expression on his date's face. They commented about the group of guys at the keg, groaning when one of them would suddenly turn green and then rush off to find a toilet. Sally pointed out a young woman who was flashing her breasts to a group of guys. Their quiet discussion ended when a young man swaggered over to them. He looked at Gary with a smirk. Gary wasn't impressed, but knew that the guy was looking for trouble. Unfortunately for him, he had chosen the wrong couple. "Hey, old man. Why don't you leave the babe here and go find a woman your own age at the nursing home," the young man said. Not impressed, Gary said, "Please leave." The young man sneered at Gary and then reached for Sally. Scared, Sally immediately ducked behind Gary. The guys hand brushed her arm and she squeaked in fright. At the same time the guy touched Sally, Gary gently, at least gently for him, pushed the man back. The kid staggered back a couple of steps, tripped over his own feet, and then landed on his butt. In a calm voice, Gary said, "Don't touch the lady, son. Please leave." Seeing that a fight was about to erupt, a crowd started to gather. The increase of people in the immediate area scared Sally and she pressed against Gary's back. The young man got up and waved her arms around while screaming like a cat in heat. He struck a pose that was right out of bad Kung Fu movie. The crowd looked on expecting to see some really great action. One young man who was watching had crossed his arms and stared at the kid in disgust. Gary shared that same expression of disgust. The kid had already demonstrated that he couldn't even keep on his feet. "I'm a black belt. I'm going to kick your ass from here to Wednesday, old man." Gary stared the young man straight in the eye. In a hard flat emotionless voice, he said, "You might be a black belt, but I'm a trained killer of men. I've had lots of practice. There are dead bodies on three continents that will attest to that fact. Please leave." The crowd that was standing there all took a step back. The guy who had been watching the jerk in disgust, looked over at Gary and then back at the kid. He smiled and watched Gary, knowing that he was someone who wasn't prone to exaggeration. Someone shouted, "Kick his ass. He's just an old fart talking out his asshole." The young man swung. Gary caught his blow in his fist, pulled him in, and grasped the young man's neck in an eagle claw hold with sufficient force that the young man was choking. Gary didn't even look the least bit excited. Gary asked, "Sally, should I rip his throat out?" "No," Sally answered after a pause that must have felt like an eternity to the young man. Gary looked the kid in the eye and said, "Today is your lucky day. Don't push your luck, or it is liable to run out. Please leave." He pushed the kid away. The young man collapsed on the floor breathing hard. His eyes were wide open, staring up at Gary. The whole crowd had backed away in shock at what they had seen. The kid was scrambling to his feet to head out the door when Betsy arrived. All hint of his swagger was gone. "You're getting slow," Betsy said with a laugh. "Thanks," Gary said watching the kid run out the door. Betsy asked, "Are you okay, Sally?" "Can ... I ... go now?" Sally asked. Gary was saddened to hear Sally returning to her broken speech pattern. She had been making such good progress in opening up to him. "Not yet. There's more to come," Betsy said just before running back onto the dance floor. Moving Sally back to his side, and putting an arm around her, Gary asked, "Are you okay, Sally?" "I ... was ... scared," Sally said. "I'm sure you were. A situation like that is always scary, but you can't let the fear rule you," Gary said feeling how she was still trembling. "Why weren't you ... scared?" Sally asked. "I was, but a little fear isn't a bad thing." Seeing the look of incredulity on her face, he explained, "A little fear sharpens your senses, increases your awareness of your surroundings, prepares the body for conflict, and speeds up your thoughts. That little bit of fear can give you a tremendous edge in a conflict." "What about when he said he was a black belt?" Sally asked. Gary laughed. "How can you laugh about that?" Gary asked, "If I claimed to be an expert in parasites and then told you that the hooker worm is a parasite that enters your ear, eats your brains, and then is passed on as a venereal disease, what would you think of me?" "I'd think you were an idiot," Sally said looking at Gary like he was an idiot. Gary said, "The guy was an idiot. The way he was dancing around was like some idiot talking about hooker worms." "Oh," Sally said not wanting to admit that she had thought the display was impressive. Gary said, "Suppose, though, that you were talking to a student who had read a couple of papers on parasites. Suppose he said some things that are fairly reasonable, but not entirely correct. What would you think of him?" "I'd know that he doesn't know as much as me," Sally answered. Gary said, "There are some who have studied parasites and know as much as you. Would you recognize that?" "It wouldn't take much time to figure out how much they know. We wouldn't argue, but we would discuss materials of mutual interest," Sally said. Gary asked, "Exactly. Then there are a few who know it all. They've written the books on the subject. Do you know enough to know who they are?" "Sure," Sally answered. "Same here. I recognize the idiots, the novices, my peers, and my superiors," Gary said. Sally asked, "What if he had turned out to be a real expert?" "Easy. I would have called for Betsy," Gary answered, "and then fought like hell to keep you safe until Betsy showed up to take care of him." "Betsy," Sally said with a laugh. "Why on earth would you call Betsy?" "There are some who might consider me to be a Master in the martial arts world. I've been in some pretty serious fights. I'm good, and I'm not boasting about that. It is a fact. "I believe you," Sally said particularly after what she had witnessed. "Betsy is better. She is a Grandmaster. There isn't anyone better, and only five people in the world who might be her equal," Gary said. "I didn't know that," Sally said looking over at Betsy who was dancing merrily to the music. Gary said, "If Betsy trains you, you will be able to protect yourself even against the biggest and meanest gangster in the world." "Really?" Sally asked. "Ask her to train you," Gary said. "I couldn't do that kind of stuff," Sally said. "Yes, you can. She can find way for you to defend yourself. You won't have to be strong. You won't have to be super fast. She'll identify your body's natural defensive moves, and develop them to a point of true lethality," Gary said. "I guess I could talk to her about a little training," Sally said. Gary looked over at where Betsy was dancing, suddenly realizing that this wasn't an accident. It was as if she knew that he'd fight and then have this conversation with Sally. A shiver ran down his spine. A young man, who had watched the altercation and had planned to step in if Gary hadn't managed to handle the situation, saw that the couple had finished their conversation. Walking slowly, he approached Gary and stopped well outside of Gary's personal space. Nodding his head, he said, "That was an impressive demonstration of skill on your part." "It wasn't that impressive. The closest he has ever gotten to a black belt was watching a B grade Kung Fu movie," Gary said. "You are being too modest. I've studied the martial arts for years." "What style?" "Aikido." "Interesting," Gary said. "My name is Steve Shelton." "I'm Gary Sellers." "I would be honored if you would show me a little of your style," Steve said. Gary said, "Now is not the right time and place. If you would give me a way to contact you, I'll see what we can arrange." "Thank you," Steve said. Steve fumbled around through his pockets, looking for a scrap of paper, giving up in his search when he finally checked in his empty rear pocket. Sally reached into her purse and pulled out a small notepad and pen. She handed it to Gary, who gave it to Steve. The young man wrote his name and email address on it. He handed the pen and notepad back to Gary and said, "Thank you very much." "You're welcome," Gary said. Steve nodded to Sally and said, "I'll leave you two alone now. Enjoy the party." "We will," Gary said. Sally watched Steve return to the party. When he was well out of earshot, she said, "He was totally respectful of you." "I would say in terms of our previous discussion, he is a graduate student in the world of martial arts," Gary said thinking that he was a graduate student with considerable potential. "Why do you say that?" "The fact that he didn't rattle off a belt or a standing. He casually mentioned that he had studied for years. There's a point beyond which all you do, is you study for years," Gary answered with a smile. "So he knows what he's talking about," Sally said. Gary frowned upon hearing her statement. Betsy's parting shot that there was more to come made him curious. He wondered if Steve wasn't a part of what was going on with Betsy. He looked at Sally, and then searched for Steve in the crowd. He muttered, "It couldn't be, could it?" "What?" Sally asked. Gary asked, "What did you think of that young man?" "He was very polite and respectful," Sally answered. "I agree," Gary said nodding his head thoughtfully. She looked for Steve in the crowd before spotting him almost directly across the room. He was standing alone watching people with the same kind of alertness that Gary exhibited. He would get a little smile when someone was doing something stupid and then frown when someone was doing something really stupid. He would occasionally chat with people who were nearby. There was a quiet confidence about him that was kind of attractive. Gary glanced down at his watch and said, "Your thirty minutes is up. Would you like to go outside?" "Please," Sally said with relief evident in her voice. They made their way through the crowd to reach the door. With a last glance backwards, they stepped outside where the air was cooler. The contrast in the quality of air was almost shocking in its intensity. Gary looked around seeing that there were very few people around. The people who were there were either headed to the party or away from it. He spotted a bench located against a wall. It was located such that it gave good visibility to the surroundings. Betsy was still in the party and he had no idea how much longer she would be staying. The bench looked like a good place to wait for her. At least they would be seated while waiting. He pointed to it and said, "Let's wait over there for Betsy." Wondering if they were going to be waiting hours for Betsy to reappear, she asked, "When will she be out?" "I'm not sure," Gary answered. "I guess we'll just wait here then," Sally said. Gary led her over to the bench. He gestured for her to take a seat before sitting down. He reached under his arm and adjusted his shoulder holster so that it wasn't digging in. He asked, "So did you have a good time?" The question took Sally by surprise. She hadn't thought about it, but it hadn't been that bad outside of that one little episode. She had enjoyed talking with Gary. It was kind of funny watching people make incredible fools out of themselves. She answered, "Mostly. It was scary when that guy tried to grab me, but other than that ... I guess I did have a good time." "That's good. At least you had a little fun there," Gary said. "We didn't dance." "Betsy did enough of that for us," Gary said. Sally laughed and said, "Yes, she did." "You have a nice laugh," Gary said. "You know, you're pretty easy to talk to." "Thanks," Gary replied. They sat and chatted for a bit about life on the island. They were both new to the area, and were learning how things worked. It was a nice quiet conversation. The time seemed to fly by. After a bit, Betsy came out to where they were seated. She paced around in front of the bench looking a little nervous and agitated. Gary asked, "What's the matter?" She said, "Gary. I need you to take Sally to my condo. She can stay in my room. Watch over her until the morning." Gary asked, "You are coming back with us, right?" "No. There's something that I have to do. I don't know how to explain it." "Come with us," Sally begged. "I can't," Betsy said. "Why can't you?" Sally asked. Betsy took a hold on Sally's arm. "I can't explain it. I want you to remember that you had a good time here, and that you don't have to be terrified when you're with someone who can protect you. Do you know what I mean?" "Yes." "Now go," Betsy said. Gary looked Betsy in the eye. "Will you be safe?" "Yes, but others won't. This is a beginning for me. I have to do it." "Against my better judgment, I'll do as you ask," Gary said. Gary and Sally left the party. Sally spent the night in Betsy's room. Gary spent the night waiting and watching. He was worried, but didn't know the exact source of his concern. It was frustrating. The night dragged on forever. ------- Steve Shelton had enjoyed the party. It was getting enough beyond warm to be uncomfortable in the building, so he stepped outside to cool off. He noticed a bench against the building, and went over to rest. A short time passed before his attention was drawn to a conversation between two young men. One was near the door of the party and the other young man was nearly in the parking lot. The volume of their discussion was sufficient that he couldn't ignore it. "Where are you going?" "Getting some rubbers out of my car!" "What for? This party is dead!" "That black asian chick is going to be pulling a train in about ten minutes. Malcolm slipped a little something into her drink." Steve's instinct was to rush in and rescue the girl, before she was raped. He took three steps forward. All of a sudden it felt like he had walked into a wall of fire. Shocked, he stepped back. He tried again only to experience that same wall of fire. He couldn't see it. He tried to go around it, but was stopped once again. He pulled out his cell phone and called the emergency number. When they answered, he said, "I just heard that a young woman has been slipped a date drug. We need an officer here, right now." There was a horrible scream from inside the building where the party was taking place. He recognized the scream from an incident in his youth. It was a scream of pure unadulterated terror. Steve shouted into the phone, "Something is happening! There's screaming." "Where are you?" The scream rose in volume. The hairs raised on the back of his neck. He couldn't imagine what would cause someone to scream like that. "I'm at the Iota Nu Nu frat house. Get the police here. I think they're killing her." The screaming cut off. There was a long moment of silence. Swallowing heavily, Steve told the operator, "I think she's dead. The screaming has stopped." Then a cacophony of screams broke through the air. People started boiling out through the door, and running in every direction. Some people tripped, and then were trampled by the people behind them. There were too many people trying to escape through a narrow door with all of them being terrified. It was like a scene out of a horror movie. Throughout the entire thing, Steve continued to describe what he was hearing and seeing to the operator. Sirens could be heard in the distance. Two more people ran out, and then nothing. Outside of the people lying injured in front of the door, he was the only one there. Thinking that it was all over, he took a step forward. The wall of fire was still there. He stepped back and stared at the door of the building. A woman, covered in blood, stepped through the door carrying a human arm. ------- At a little after six in the morning, Gary was startled by a soft knock on the door to the condo. He pulled out his pistol. With his other hand, he checked a display on his smart phone. Seeing the identity of the visitor, he put the gun away. He made his way to the door. Opening the door, he said, "Come in." "Thank you." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 11 Tight-lipped, Ed stared at the man. Talking with him was a constant assault on his truth sense. The longer he talked, the worse the lies got. It was as if one lie emboldened the next. Ed said, "She was drugged." "The test results were lost," the man said with a smirk. Ed's truth sense stabbed him in the brain upon hearing the lie. He said, "Quit lying." "I'm not lying. They were lost." "She was drugged, and you know it!" Ed shouted. The man replied, "She chewed his arm off and beat him to death with it!" "She was drugged!" Ed shouted. "There's no proof of that." Ed said, "You've buried the evidence that proves my daughter was drugged, and while drugged she fought off a rapist." "He's not a rapist. His father is a very important man in this community. Your daughter killed his son and he wants justice," the man said. "As District Attorney, my job is to see justice done." Ed took a deep breath and reached under his shirt. He pulled out the medallion of his service to the Two-Sided One. He wrapped a hand around it. In a weird voice that sounded like three people speaking as one, he said, "I am the Druid Ed Biggers, servant of the Two-Sided One. I am a seeker of truth. Mr. Dickerson, will you serve the truth or promote the lie? Choose wisely." "Oh, this is going to make great press. Ed Biggers, one of the husbands of John Carter, uses his position as Druid to intimidate the District Attorney in an attempt to prevent him from pursing the lawful prosecution of his daughter on the charge of murder." "You have chosen poorly," Ed said in the weird voice, and then released the medallion. "How dare you threaten me?" Ed smiled at that. He shook his head and answered, "I didn't threaten you. That was the Two-Sided One." "Fuck that. It was your mouth moving," the man said. Ed laughed and left the office. He had exited the building where other members of the family were waiting for him. A young man approached them looking nervous. "Sir." "Yes?" "I'm Steve Shelton. I need to talk to you about what happened that night." "Come with me," Ed said. "I'm taking a great chance in talking to you. They've been threatening me, but I can't let them do this to your daughter." Ed said, "I believe you. Come with me and we'll protect you." "You don't understand. They are powerful people." Ed said, "They aren't powerful enough. There are far greater powers than they, who have taken an interest in this." "Who?" "The Gods and Goddess." "Oh." ------- Vicki Lynn Hayward had an arrest record that was truly impressive. Assault, battery, attempted murder, murder, and armed robbery were just a few of the charges that had been brought against her over the past dozen years. By all accounts she should have been a lifer in a maximum security prison, by now. However, a lot of the charges had been dropped because witnesses refused to testify. She was, without argument, one of the meanest women in the state. She was Betsy's cell mate. At the moment, Vicki was cowering in the corner of the cell, trying to keep as much distance as she could from the young woman. With a wink wink and a nudge nudge, she had been promised special treatment if she made her cell mate miserable. She discovered, the hard way, that Betsy was not an easy victim. She had no idea what Betsy had done to her, but there were little round bruises the size of a fingertip all over her body. Every muscle was screaming in pain. She couldn't stand or even crawl. Occasionally, a muscle would cramp up producing an excruciation pain. It had only taken Betsy thirty seconds to do that. Humming a little song, Betsy was dangling from the cell bars engaged in exercising. She was grasping the bars with her hands in a manner that held her body, at least her feet, about a foot off the floor. She would slowly raise her legs to a position that was perpendicular to her body and then lower them. She had been doing that for almost six hours straight. "Are you enjoying yourself, Vicki?" Betsy asked. "No." "I'm sorry to hear that." "Leave me alone," Vicki said. "I'm just trying to be friendly." "Leave me alone." "I guess you don't want to be my friend," Betsy said giving the woman a grin that sent shivers of fear through her. "I'm sorry," Vicki whimpered. "What are you sorry about? Trying to hurt me or not wanting to be my friend?" "I'm sorry for everything." Betsy released her hold on the bars and landed on the floor. She stood on her hands and then rested her feet against the cell bars. She started doing pushups. Vicki tried to move back, but her body wouldn't obey her commands. She cried out in pain when another muscle started to spasm. It was worse than being electrocuted. Betsy waited for the spasm to pass. She said, "You have a very ugly mind. What were some of the thing you wanted to do to me? You wanted to fuck me using a broomstick as a dildo. You were going to shove your fist up my ass all of the way to your elbow. What kind of person thinks up those kinds of things?" When Vicki didn't answer, Betsy continued, "You said that you wanted to use my mouth as a toilet. I really can't imagine anyone who would enjoy that kind of treatment. I certainly wouldn't. Would you?" "No." Betsy said, "I'd like to ask you some questions and I want truthful answers from you. If I learn that you're lying to me, I will crack a vertebra for each lie you tell me. The damage won't be bad enough to paralyze you, but you will be in horrible pain for the rest of your life. "I'm pretty sure that you don't believe that I know how to do that. So, how about I demonstrate it on the vertebra just above your tail bone?" Vicki stared at Betsy, horrified at the idea of what she was threatening. Betsy was thinking that Ling wasn't the only master of intimidation. Wishing this nightmare would end, Vicki said, "I believe that you can do that. You don't need to show me." "I don't believe you." "Please don't hurt me anymore. I'll do anything. I'll tell you anything you want to know," Vicki pleaded with tears running down her cheeks. "I'm really curious about one thing. Have you ever fucked someone using a broomstick as a dildo?" Vicki stared at Betsy without answering. Betsy paused her pushups and held out a fist with her middle finger knuckle extended. "Fifteen and a half pounds of pressure delivered at the right angle to a vertebra will crack it and shift it out of alignment by a millimeter. It takes a fraction of a second to accomplish and the pain will last a lifetime." Betsy resumed doing her pushups. "You haven't answered my question." "Yes," Vicki answered. "You really did that?" Betsy asked incredulously. "Yes!" "You are one evil bitch," Betsy said. Vicki didn't reply. There just wasn't much to say. Betsy said, "You do know that I'm going to want the full story as to why you are my cell mate. I'm going to want names. I want to know what they promised to do for you, if you hurt me. I'll want all of the details. Everything. So why don't you just sit there for a few minutes and get your thoughts together." Vicki stared at her. "Guards are coming," Betsy said. Two guards brought in a woman to put in the cell across from Betsy's. She took one look at Betsy and stopped. "Is that the pyscho bitch who chewed the arm off that guy and beat him to death with it?" "Yep," one of the guards answered. "Shit!" Vicki said. Betsy said, "I guess they didn't tell you that before they put you in here with me, did they?" ------- In the backyard of Betsy's home, Sally was sitting on a flimsy lawn chair that was clearly a stopgap measure for the overflow of people. Her chair was sandwiched between lawn chairs of equally poor quality on which Gary and Steve were seated. She and Steve had been staying there for the past three days under the protection of two bodyguards, and Ed Biggers. It had been quiet until an hour ago when a horde of people had descended on the house. Sally's head was moving from side to side watching the dangerous looking men and women lounging around the yard. They all moved around with this air of quiet confidence that they could handle any situation that came their way. It seemed to her that everyone there was carrying a gun, except for Betsy's father. Steve asked, "Who are all of these people?" Gary exhaled loudly trying to figure out where to begin with an answer. "Those three guys over there are Federal Marshals. One of them is a Druid. Those two over there are FBI. Those four slaving away on their computers over at that picnic table, are IRS. Those two guys over there working on their computers, are from an unnamed government agency. I'm not sure if that is the CIA or NSA or both. That guy over there is from immigration. He's a Druid. The woman who is examining the bent table is a maker from the Druid College. Those two guys who are looking pretty miserable are from the Hawaiian police department. That group of people over there are local private investigators." Steve looked over at Sally and, winking at her, said, "I hope you aren't holding any dope." Sally laughed. Jimmy Lee walked over and said, "Hey, Gary, Do you feel like sparring?" "Only if you promise me one thing." "What?" Jimmy Lee asked. "That you'll kill me quickly and painlessly, before Ling gets her hands on me," Gary answered. Jimmy Lee laughed and said, "I can't promise you that. She'd make me suffer for your sins." "Damn!" "Come on. A little sparring will get your mind off your problems." Gary sighed and rose from his chair. The two men walked out to the middle of the yard. Others, seeing them start to warm up, gathered around to watch them. Steve leaned over to Sally and said, "Let's go over there and watch this. I've got a feeling this is going to be impressive." "Will Gary get hurt?" "No. They are practicing. They'll pull their punches." Steve held out a hand for Sally to take. She took it, and let him lead her over to where the others were gathering. When they got there, she moved to stand a little closer to him. She was intimidated by all of the men standing around there. Ed walked over to where they were standing. He said, "This should be interesting to watch." Sally asked, "Why?" "I've seen Jimmy Lee in action. He's very good. Gary is on Ling's short list of protectors. That means he's very good. It should be an even match." The two men finished warming up and turned to face each other. They bowed. The level of anticipation among the observers rose a notch. Steve had expected the demonstration to be impressive. He discovered that the English language was missing a word that could describe what he was observing. Impressive just wasn't a strong enough word. Each time a blow landed, Sally gasped. It looked to her like the men were killing each other. They spun, they kicked, they threw punches, and threw each other. She couldn't believe when it when they ended up on the ground grappling for supremacy. One of the observers shouted, "Break!" The two men froze, separated, and then stood up. They faced each other and bowed. All of the observers nodded to each other, and then went back to what they had been doing. Jimmy Lee said, "That was great. I don't get the chance to spar like that very often." "I know what you mean. I enjoyed that," Gary said. Sally said, "That was incredible." "It would take me a lifetime to get to that level of skill," Steve said wide-eyed. A voice from behind asked, "Jimmy Lee and Gary Sellers. Would you care to spar with me?" Ed spun around and shouted, "William!" Sally turned to look at the man who had just arrived. He was a little older than her with Native American features. He didn't look that impressive although there was this other world aura that surrounded him. A young woman was standing beside him. "Hello, Dad." "What are you doing here?" "I came here to spar with Jimmy and Gary. I thought a little two against one match would be fun." Gary held up his hands and asked, "Can we make it four against one?" "I'm with him," Jimmy said. Ed said, "Seriously. What are you doing here?" William answered, "The video crew is on their way here. The edits have to be done just right to have the full and proper impact. I'm here to assure that happens." Gary asked, "How did he know about the video?" "Don't ask!" Jimmy answered. William walked over to Sally and nodded his head just a fraction. He smiled and said, "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Sally Tilton. Although she didn't know it, Betsy has waited a lifetime to meet you. You will be a good friend to her. She'll need your help when the change finally happens." "What? What change? How do you know who I am?" "All will be revealed in time," William said. William walked over to the bent table. He examined it and then said, "I would have enjoyed watching Ling and Betsy fight. I'm sure it was the battle of the century." Gary said, "I never saw anything like it." "I would have paid every cent I own to have been here to watch it," Jimmy Lee said. "It cost every cent you own to repair all of the damage they did around here," Gary said. Ed said, "It took Ling a month to recover from it." "Betsy slept for three solid days," Gary said. "She woke and ate at least fifty pancakes." William looked off into the distance for a second, then said, "The video crew will be here in thirty minutes. We have just enough time to start teaching our young novices a little Tai Chi." "What?" Sally asked looking horrified when she realized that he was looking right at her. William said, "Dad, Jimmy, Kyle, and Gary would you line up over here with me. We will demonstrate the moves while Lucy teaches them to Sally and Steve." Puzzled, Steve looked around before asking, "Me?" "Yes," William answered. "How do you know who I am?" Steve asked. Jimmy Lee said, "Don't ask!" It took a few seconds for everyone to get in a line. Lucy stood in front of them and started removing her clothes. When Sally and Steve stared at her, she said, "Get undressed." "You've got to be kidding me?" Steve said. "Now!" Lucy said in a very authoritative voice. Ed said, "Wow! I didn't know Lucy could be that forceful." Sally and Steve slowly stripped out of their clothes. The idea of arguing with Lucy never crossed their minds, particularly since everyone else there started disrobing. Sally was convinced that she was having one of those dreams where she's walking through school naked. She kept pinching herself hoping that she'd wake up. It was extremely embarrassing to be standing next to Steve, naked, while facing a line of naked men. The fact that Lucy was nude as well, didn't seem to register. Lucy said, "Will you gentlemen please demonstrate the first five moves for Sally and Steve?" Steve and Sally watched the men move gracefully, flowing from one position to the next. Each move was precise and extremely controlled. In a way, Sally was surprised that big strong men like that were able to move with such agility and grace. They stopped after completing the fifth move. She said, "Would you gentleman return to the starting position?" Standing beside Sally, Lucy said, "That is the starting position. Please try to copy it." Steve and Sally attempted to duplicate it. Lucy came over and corrected their stance with little nudges to move various parts of their bodies into the proper position. For the next twenty minutes, Sally and Steve copied the motions of the men across from them. Lucy continued to correct their movements. It was such an intense experience, that Sally managed to forget for a short time that she was nude. The perimeter alarm went off and William said, "Relax. It's just the video crew arriving. Everyone should start getting dressed, now." Sally and Steve managed to get dressed before every one else. They were careful not to look at each other. They returned to the chairs which they had use earlier. Unconscious of their actions, they moved the chairs a little further apart. William and Lucy, holding hands, joined them. Lucy frowned upon seeing the poor quality lawn chairs. William whispered something to her, and her frown dropped away. William said, "Steve, I suggest that you allow Betsy to further your martial arts studies, rather than Gary. His style is more of a street brawler than an artist. Don't get me wrong, he's very good. It is just that his initial training was in the Army. It focused on killing one's opponent. That kind of mindset is ingrained in how he fights. "Betsy, although she can be pretty vicious in a fight, had never killed a man until just recently. Even that was only under the influence of Rophenol and Ecstasy. It is remarkable, considering the dosage she was given, that she was able to move at all. The point is, that Betsy is an artist in what she does. "I know that you attempted to help her when you first learned that she was drugged, but you were held back by a ... let's say an invisible barrier. You served your purpose by making the call to the emergency operator. That call is an important record of what happened; far more important than a successful attempt to rescue Betsy would have been." "She wouldn't have been in trouble if I had reached her in time," Steve argued. "And someone would have been fishing your body out of the ocean about now, and Malcolm would still be free to rape other women. No. What happened was what had to happen, and in the way it had to happen," William said. "It doesn't seem right," Steve said. Forgetting for the moment that William had suggested that Betsy take over his martial arts training, he said, "She's a defenseless young lady." Everyone within earshot burst out in laughter. William said, "There's only one person in the world who can defeat Betsy in a head to head fight, in a convincing manner." All of those who were laughing, quickly stopped laughing. He then rose and looked around at everyone, before walking off to deal with the video people who were gathered around Ed. It was time for him to get to work. Steve asked, "Who could defeat Betsy?" Lucy watched her husband walk away, then turned to Steve and answered, "The only one who can beat Betsy, is William." Sally said, "He doesn't look that tough." "I must go to him now," Lucy said. Sally watched Lucy walk over to her husband. She had thought that Betsy was the strangest person she had ever met. William had just taken top spot. "I don't understand anything that is going on." Steve said, "Same here. I keep thinking that I'm in Wonderland, with Alice, waiting for the White Rabbit to show up." ------- Betsy looked down at the guard lying on the floor outside her cell. She said, "That looks painful." The guard was in convulsions, her finger frozen on the trigger of her Taser. She had tried to shoot Betsy with it, but Betsy had redirected the electrode darts back at her. The guard was now continuously tasing herself. "Vicki, I'm curious. How long do you think it will be before someone checks on her?" "I don't know." Betsy said, "I'll bet this is one story she'll be telling her grandchildren." "If she survives," Vicki said weakly. There had been a time when Vicki would have laughed at the guard's situation. The past few days had taught her to have empathy for others. She had thought she had known what it was to be miserable, but she was wrong. She was regaining some use of her limbs. She could hold herself up long enough to get some water out of the sink. She was now weak from starvation, since Betsy ate every bite of food passed into the cell. "I'll bet you'll have some stories to tell your grandchildren about your time with me," Betsy said with a smile. "Ugh!" Betsy went back to the center of the cell, and started running in place. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 12 For the most part celebrities, politicians and other public figures, enjoy seeing themselves on television. It was as if each appearance on television was another notch in their belt. The exception was when the destruction of their career was being broadcast to a large audience. At that time, they would rather see the television cease to exist, and wish that the printing press had never been invented. A television program titled, 'Corruption In Paradise, ' was being broadcast. It presented the Betsy Carter case starting from the moment the 911 call was made by Steve Shelton, with video taken from the dashboard of the first police car that showed up at the Iota Nu Nu frat house. ------- Patrolman Alex Manning was at home watching his world crumble in front of his eyes. Video and audio from the video camera in one of the patrol cars clearly showed him threatening the witness who had reported the incident to emergency operator. He hadn't even been bribed to do it, knowing that Ivan would reward him for protecting his son. Alex was fully aware of the fact that Malcolm was a serial rapist. That night hadn't been his first time to be called to the scene of one of Malcolm's crimes. He had arrived on the scene expecting to learn that another woman had been brutally abused. Malcolm was a sadist. He made sure that his victims were not ever in a state to testify against him. He had been on the scene for a little more than five minutes when he had learned that the deceased was Malcolm, and not his intended victim. It had been a little awkward there for a moment, while he had to change the direction of his demands upon the witnesses. A couple of the other officers had snickered while watching him trying to recover. The witness had been something else. Initially, he had tried to explain what he'd seen. After a few minutes, he'd realized the officer didn't want to know the truth, but wanted to dictate the lie he was to tell. Then the witness had protested hiding the truth. When Alex had started with the threats, the witness's face had turned stony and his eyes had narrowed. Alex had left, feeling that the witness had not been intimidated. He had watched the video knowing that his career as a police officer was over. If he was lucky, all that would happen is he'd be kicked off the force. After all, he was just a bit player in the whole affair. Still, he didn't think he'd be that lucky. He thought that he would end up serving time for his actions. ------- Mr. Dickerson, District Attorney, stared in horror while recordings of him were broadcast during prime time viewing hours. They were not a flattering recordings made in a setting of his choice. In the first video of him, he was shown at home, wearing his ratty old bathrobe. His hair wasn't groomed at all. In another video, also taken in his home, he had been scratching his balls during most of it. The first video segment of the broadcast showed a split screen video with him and Ivan Petrov, the father of Malcolm Petrov, discussing the Betsy Carter case. There was no doubt about what they were doing. Ivan wanted Betsy hung for killing his son. The second video was a split screen image. One side showed him on the telephone ordering a hospital administrator to dispose of the blood sample and test results for the Betsy Carter case. The other side showed the hospital administrator agreeing to dispose of the material. He couldn't believe the quality of the video, and the sound. Not only was there no doubt that he was corrupt, he looked like a total rube. His wife, who had silently watched the television program beside him, asked, "Were you really going to try to put that young woman away for life?" There wasn't much point in lying. They had just watched five minutes of him going about doing exactly that. Tiredly, he answered, "Yes." "Would you do something for me before the police arrive?" "What?" His wife answered, "Get your gun, get in the car, drive downtown, and blow your brains out." "You can't be serious." "I'm serious. You're a monster. You should be dead. I would kill you myself, but there are the children to consider. I don't want to see you, I don't want to touch you, and I don't want you anywhere near my children." "Honey..." "Don't 'Honey' me, you sick fuck! Get your fucking gun, get the hell out here, and go kill yourself!" "I..." "You don't need to write a suicide note. It's being broadcast all over the fucking island!" ------- In a much richer part of the island, Ivan Petrov was watching the television program. He was angry on a number of levels. He was angry at the television station for broadcasting his private business to the world. Someone was going to pay for that. He was angry at himself, for having discussed in such an explicit manner, matters of such a delicate nature in his home on his phone. He knew better than to talk about matters like that in his study or over the phone, but the death of his son had infuriated him, and his judgment had been a little off. It was understandable. The idea that some slut had the gall to kill his boy made him sick. Women were nothing but whores. He could make a call and have a hundred women flown here from Moscow or St. Petersberg. They'd be on their backs by morning earning him cold hard cash. No bitch was going to kill his son and get away with it! He called for Timur, the head of his security. Gesturing to the television, he asked, "What do you see there?" "I see you in your study, talking on the telephone." Ivan asked, "How did a television station get that video?" "I don't know," Timur answered breaking into a sweat. Ivan reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a pistol. He shot Timur in the stomach. He came around from behind his desk and stood over the man who was writhing on the floor holding his stomach. Two of his men ran into the room while he emptied his pistol into the former head of his security. The men froze and watched Ivan. Illia, his second in command, asked, "What happened?" "He failed me." "I'll get a couple of men in here to clean up." Ivan said, "There's no time for that. Get the jet ready to go. We leave. Now!" The limousine carrying Ivan, Illia, and the driver arrived at the hangar where his private jet was parked. The hangar was brightly lit with the jet parked in the middle of the building. Ivan and Illia got out of the car and looked around for the pilot who was supposed to be prepping the plane for flight, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Looking around for the pilot, Ivan swore, "Where is that fucking pilot? We've got to get out of here before the police catch up to us." Staring at the jet, Illia said, "Sir, we've got a bigger problem than the pilot." "What?" Ivan asked irritated by how things were going. "The tires are missing on the jet," Illia said. Ivan spun around and stared at the plane. He couldn't believe his eyes. His multimillion dollar jet was standing on blocks. The jet wasn't going anywhere. "What the fuck happened to my jet?" Ivan asked. A door slammed from the area where the offices were located. The two men turned to look at where the sound had originated. A Druid, wearing his red robe, stood outside the door with a smile on his face. "Good evening. My name is Jimmy Lee, and I'm with Immigration and Customs Enforcement. I have some questions about your visa." Illia reached inside his jacket and Ivan said, "If you pull out a gun, I'll kill you myself." "There's only one of him and two of us," Illia said. "He's a Druid, you idiot. You don't fuck with a Druid!" "So?" "Markov will make sure that you are tortured, and your children are tortured. Your grandchildren will be tortured, your great grandchildren will be tortured; and so on, for ten generations." "Markov? He's in Russia." "You don't fuck with Druids," Ivan shouted. Jimmy Lee said, "It's nice dealing with people who have a little common sense." "Shut up," Ivan muttered. "I would appreciate it if you would please carefully place all of your weapons on the ground in front of you," Jimmy Lee said. ------- In another house of a more moderate value, the Chief of Police watched a succession of videos in which a dozen members of the police force under his command accepted bribes to tamper with evidence and torture a prisoner. He wanted heads to roll, but he didn't even know who to call. He suspected that there were still more people to be implicated in this mess. "Did you know about this?" his wife asked. "No," he answered. When he had asked about the case, he had been assured that it was an open and shut case. The girl had brutally murdered a boy during a party in front of a number of witnesses. The District Attorney was on the case, and was going to make sure that she got the maximum penalty possible. His wife said, "What a mess." He said, "You're telling me. I can't even call up the District Attorney to start preparing arrest warrants. That asshole wouldn't prepare one on himself, that's for sure." "You're going to have a lot of late nights." "No. I'll probably lose my job over this," he said feeling depressed. "How about some ice cream?" she asked. She knew that ice cream was one of his comfort foods. She remembered that time when he had shot a kid. He had come home after being suspended. She had never seen him so depressed. He was upset about the suspension, but more than that he was sickened at having shot someone. She had greeted him at the door with a bowl of chocolate ice cream and listened to him vent his feelings. They had both felt better afterwards. "Sure. I'll have some chocolate if we have it," he answered. His wife wouldn't let him eat ice cream very often. In the darkest times together, they would sit and eat ice cream while talking. Now it was a very rare treat. She was afraid that it would raise his cholesterol. He glanced at the television and all thoughts of ice cream fled his mind. He recognized the man talking to the DA. If he had thought things were bad, before, he knew that they were only going to get worse. He shouted, "Jesus Christ. That fucking idiot. I can't believe it. He just told a Druid to fuck off. That kind of stupidity should be fatal!" "Calm down, dear. You're aggravating your blood pressure." "Where's my gun? I gonna kill him!" ------- Judge Jordan was seated at his desk writing a farewell letter to his family. He would occasionally glance up at the television dreading the moment when it was his turn in the spot light. It was going to be horrible. He didn't know whether it was stupidity or hubris that got him into this mess. He had known the girl was the daughter of a Druid, but he had dismissed that fact as irrelevant. After all, he was a judge – the final arbitrator of right and wrong. The only people he had to worry about were other judges and that wasn't that big of a threat. They could over-rule his decisions, but they couldn't toss him off the bench for bad judgment on one case. He reached over and took a sip of cognac. It was the best that money could buy on the island. He had bought the bottle of Remy Martin Centaure de Diamant using the money with which he had been bribed. It was a coincidence that he had been drinking it when the television program had started broadcasting. He was well aware of the irony. He knew exactly what was going to be shown. Ivan had sat in his office talking, detailing exactly what he wanted to happen to Betsy Carter. He had agreed to do what Ivan had demanded. He had taken an envelop full of money. He had counted it the moment Ivan had left the office. There would be no doubt that he was guilty. Making him look even worse, Ivan had ranted about how cunts were on earth merely for men's pleasure. Women were just cum dumps. Ivan may have believed that, but he didn't. None the less, he had sat there and nodded his head while joking about sticking it to young bitches. It was just trash talk, a stupid attempt to keep Ivan happy. His wife would kill him upon hearing him talk like that. He was glad that she was on the mainland, shopping. He hoped she never learned that her spending money came from Ivan to pay for incarcerating an innocent woman. She'd be ashamed. "What a mess," he muttered and took another taste of his cognac. After looking over the letter, he couldn't think of anything else to add. He'd covered all the bases – confession of his role in the Betsy Carter case, an apology for his past actions, a request begging forgiveness for his future actions, declaration of his love for his wife, and his regrets for things not done. He signed his name at the bottom of the letter. He sealed the letter inside an envelop and wrote his wife's name on it. He place the envelop on his desk where it would be found. He turned to watch the television hoping that he'd be able to destroy the letter. He'd do that only if he didn't appear on the television program. A segment came on with his discussion in chambers with Ivan. It then transitioned to a scene with him denying Betsy Carter bail. It was even worse than he had remembered. He took out the pistol and looked at it. The time of action was upon him. His hand trembled. His heart was pounding in his chest. There was a rushing in his ears. He put the pistol to his head. The thought that his wife would return from her trip, to discover his body after four days, stayed his hand. "I can't do that to her," Judge Jordan said, slumping in his chair. He walked out of the house. In clear sight of the neighbor's homes, he put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. His neighbors heard the shot, but ignored it. ------- Officer Laura Plante watched the television from her hospital bed. She had suffered serious injuries as a result of Tasing herself. Just about everyone who entered the room had teased her about it. They didn't believe her when she said that Betsy had somehow turned the darts back at her. She knew it was impossible, but the girl had done it. This whole nightmare had started with wanting to go skiing in Aspen. She'd been working overtime, without making much progress in saving enough money to pay for the trip. When she'd been offered a bribe to zap Betsy Carter with a Taser not just once, but over and over, she had jumped on the chance. She watched the video of her taking a bribe to zap Betsy Carter with the Taser. Now all of her plans had unraveled. She wasn't going to Aspen for vacation, she was going to jail for a long time. The little guy at the bottom always got the worst punishment. "I'll guess the rest of my recovery will be spent in the secured section of the hospital," she muttered. ------- The moment Detective Travers heard what was being presented on the television, he fled the police station before anyone had a chance to realize that he was the lead detective on the Betsy Carter case. He had no idea where he was headed, but it was going to be as far from here as he could get. There were just a few details he had to take care of before leaving. He stopped by the old bakery which his childhood friend owned. His friend let him use a locker to store a few items that he didn't want others to know about. One item was a gym bag full of cash. He went inside and got the bag of money. With a little care, the money would last for a number of years. The money, close to half a million dollars, had been gathered over the past ten years. Ivan had paid him twenty-five thousand dollars to eliminate any eyewitness evidence that might get the girl off. It hadn't been easy. There had been a lot of witnesses. He had to convince people that they didn't really hear anything about her getting fed date rape drugs. He should have asked for more money. This was just a small addition to the funds he had collected. Rich men were willing to pay a lot of money to have the police turn its head from their illegal activities. Pimps, fences, embezzlers, con artists, and other crooks were often very rich men. Ivan was amongst the richest. He stepped out of the bakery to find a man standing there with a badge. He smiled as if greeting a long lost friend. The man didn't return his smile. "Internal affairs. Detective Travers, you're under arrest." "Shit," Detective Travers swore. He looked around. There were three patrol cars with officers standing beside them. Each officer had a look of disgust on his or her face. They all knew that one bad cop ruined the reputation of every cop on the force. He could try to run, but he wouldn't get far. He said, "I guess you want my badge and gun." "That's right." ------- The Desk Sargent, Sargent Fitzpatrick, hung up the phone after another patrolman reported in sick. There was a lot of that going on, and he had no doubt that it was the result of the television program that was still airing. He hadn't seen a second of it, but that was all anyone was talking about. The initial excitement had died down once segments of events inside of the police station started getting broadcast. Officers were walking around looking at each other wondering who was going to get the ax on this debacle. Those who had been involved in the case were particularly solemn. The station was almost like a morgue by the time half of the program had aired. Things were real quiet everywhere except upstairs. There was a lot of yelling and screaming coming from up there. He had known that the brass knew all of the vulgar words, but the stream of language he had heard coming from up there had made him blush. Personally, he didn't blame them for being upset. If what he was hearing was true, there were a number of his brothers in uniform that he wanted to take out and shoot. The idea of railroading some innocent rape victim on murder charges for having defended herself, pissed him off. It was not a crime to try to avoid being raped by a sadistic son of a Russian gangster. Police were supposed to defend victims and arrest crooks, not the other way around. He looked up when the doors to the station opened. His jaw dropped upon seeing the group that entered. Two black robed Druids were backed by five red robed Druids. He wished that he had called in sick. Having a pretty good idea why they were there, he said, "Gentleman, as soon as the watch commander saw the beginning of the television program he ordered that release papers be generated for Betsy Carter. She will be released any time now." "Thank you," Ed said. "These other gentleman have business with your bosses upstairs." "Go right ahead. I'm not going to try to stop you," the Desk Sargent said. Coming to a rather quick decision, he thought he'd rather irritate his superiors than seven Druids. One had career changing consequences, while the other had life changing consequences. He preferred his life just the way it was. "You might want to call them and warn them that we're coming," Jimmy Lee said. "Thank you. I'll do just that," Sargent Fitzpatrick said while reaching for the phone. The red robed Druids quickly dispersed in five different directions. They had a lot of business to take care of over the next few hours. People were not going to be happy to see them. Betsy's case was just the tip of the iceberg. Three of the Druids had been investigating local corruption for two months. They had been ready to drop the boom on a number of corrupt individuals when the attempted rape occurred. That was why they'd had video and audio surveillance equipment in place when Betsy's situation began. Her case provided a very nice vehicle to wrap up a lot of individuals in one fell swoop. After finishing his call, the Desk Sargent looked up at Ed and William. He wasn't all that happy that the two black robed Druids had chosen to remain in front of his desk. It meant they weren't done with him yet. "Is there anything else that I can do for you two gentlemen?" "We're waiting for my sister," William answered. "Your sister is Betsy Carter?" Sargent Fitzpatrick asked swallowing heavily. "She's also my daughter," Ed said. Sargent Fitzpatrick had heard people say that one shouldn't fuck with a Druid. He couldn't imagine doing much worse than railroading one of their relatives into jail. He looked at Ed and then at William. Of the two, the younger man struck him as the most dangerous. "Are people going to die?" William frowned upon hearing the question. He said, "Not by our hand. Some people will take what might be called 'the easy way out' of situations like this. It is not a matter of who caught them, but that they got caught." "That happens," the Desk Sargent said. William said, "It's a shame because most people do not realize how many options there are in their own personal futures. They see only the most obvious, and often the most unpleasant, path. They don't realize that there are options that can actually lead to glorious futures. "Probably the most tragic of the individuals who have or will kill themselves over this matter, is Judge Jordan. He would have had a relatively short period of very unpleasant experiences – prison, divorce, and public humiliation. It would have been rough. However, there was a future in which he could have become a great lecturer in law schools on the dangers of hubris and greed. He would have regained his stature in the legal community. "Instead, a different man will rise to the need. He will not be as good of a speaker. His impact will not be as extensive. Still, the need will have been met." "You say that as if it was fact," Sargent Fitzpatrick said. Ed glanced at William, knowing that he'd had some influence over that outcome. Not giving voice to his full knowledge of William's ability, he said, "It is." William looked at his father and said, "It was a matter of balance, and the greater good. I had to make the choice I made." Recalling an instance in which William had to choose which of two people he would save, Ed knew better than to argue. He sighed at the thought of how decisions like that must weigh on William. Sometimes he wondered how the young man was able to bear up under it. William said, "Betsy is coming." Betsy stepped into the room fully expecting that she'd have to run home. She didn't plan on going straight there. She was hungry and intended to stop at a steakhouse on the way to the condo. Thus, it was with great delight that she spotted William and her father. Of the two, she was most surprised to see William. He never left his home in Arizona preferring to live the life of a hermit. She ran to William shouting, "You came, William." The siblings hugged. William reached into the sleeve of his robe and pulled out a bag. He held it out to her. "What is it?" Betsy asked. "A large submarine sandwich, to hold you until we get to a steakhouse," William answered. Betsy grabbed the sandwich. She wolfed it down in about six bites. Sargent Fitzpatrick watched her eat, amazed at the rate at which the food disappeared. William turned to Sargent Fitzpatrick and said, "I think it would be a good idea if someone were to take Vicki Hayward to the hospital. If you don't, she'll die." "She will?" "Yes. She's suffering from malnutrition and dehydration." Ed looked at Betsy and said, "What did you do?" Defending her actions, Betsy said, "She's not a very nice person. You should have heard what she wanted to do to me." "Betsy. What did you do?" "I only hurt her enough to keep her from hurting me. There was no permanent damage to her." "You were in a cell with Vicki Hayward?" Sargent Fitzpatrick asked horrified to learn that. "Yes." Sargent Fitzpatrick said, "I was not aware of that. She's a pretty nasty woman. You're lucky to be alive." "You should have heard her thanking God when I was released." Sargent Fitzpatrick stared at Betsy. They always locked Vicki in a private cell to protect the other guests of the facility. She was a brutal, nasty piece of work. Someone must have really had it out for Betsy to put her in a cell with Vicky. William chuckled and said, "I think her experience with Betsy has fundamentally changed her character." Sargent Fitzpatrick picked up the phone and made a call to have someone check on Vicki. When a Druid suggested doing something, it was a good idea to do it. To be honest, he kind of wished they would leave. "Let's go," Betsy said. William waited for the Desk Sargent to get off the phone. He had one more message to deliver. The wait was a couple of minutes since the man had to convince the guards that it was important to check on Vicki. "Take some flowers home to your wife, tonight," William said. "Roses?" "Carnations," William said. "Make some reservations for dinner tomorrow night." "Why?" "Tomorrow is your anniversary," William said. "I totally forgot about that," Sargent Fitzpatrick said. "I know," William said. Turning, he said to Betsy, "I take it you're hungry." "I'm still very hungry," Betsy said holding up the empty paper bag that had once held a submarine sandwich. "You ate all of Vicki's food." "She didn't need it as much as I did." "Amazingly, that is the truth," Ed said, shaking his head. Betsy asked, "Which steakhouse are we going to?" "The Big Steak Steakhouse." "I'll meet you there," Betsy said before taking off at a run. Sargent Fitzpatrick didn't even notice Betsy leave. He was still staring at William wondering how he had known that he had forgotten his anniversary. It was a reminder of just how scary Druids could be. ------- William and Ed walked into the steakhouse. They had taken the time to get out of their robes, so their appearance was not noticed by the majority of people there. They found Betsy in the room they had reserved for dinner. Ed noticed the stationary bike and looked over at William who just shrugged his shoulders. Betsy said, "It's about time you got here. They won't take my order until the party is seated." The two men took a seat at the table. William said, "The waiter is coming." The waiter came in the room. Before the man had a chance to say a word, Betsy said, "I'll take two of your forty-eight ounce porterhouse steaks cooked medium rare; four baked potatoes, with extra butter and no sour cream; two salads drenched in Thousand Island dressing; and four glasses of milk." "I'll take a twenty ounce porterhouse, cooked medium well. Butter and sour cream on my baked potato. Italian dressing on the salad. A glass of iced tea." "I'll take a twenty ounce porterhouse cooked medium rare. Sugar and cinnamon on my baked sweet potato. Blue cheese on the salad. I'll take an iced tea," William said. The waiter left without having said a word. William asked, "So how was jail?" "It was okay. I wouldn't want to stay there for a long time, though, they didn't serve enough food," Betsy said. "I didn't think you'd have a problem unless there was a major riot." "That could have been fun," Betsy said thinking about what a prison riot would be like. Ed looked up at the ceiling and muttered, "She would think a riot would be fun." Betsy asked, "When did you get here?" "Two days ago," William answered. "My plane landed here about a half hour after the attempted rape. I was quite surprised to find five other Druids already here when I stepped off the plane," Ed answered. "So why did it take you so long to get me out?" Betsy asked. William said, "There were things going on that were of a larger scope than your case." "Really?" "Yes," Ed said. Betsy said, "So what do you think of my house, William?" "The backyard is a mess," William said with a grin. "That's true. It's Momma Ling's fault." William said, "I'm sure you love the location." "I do. I know Daddy Ed and you are desert rats, but I'm not. I need the water. I knew, as soon as I stepped in that house, that it was going to be my home," Betsy said. "It is a nice house. I think you'll like living there once you get the security and office building completed," William said. "It's going to take forever to get it built," Betsy said. "They've got laws and stuff, slowing it down." "That's not unusual," Ed said with a grin. Although she didn't stop moving, Betsy was unusually quiet for a moment. She looked at her brother and asked, "Is there a man in my future?" "You know I can't see what happens to people I care about, except in general terms. Personally, I have to believe you'll find someone. You're too nice a person to spend a lifetime alone." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 13 The sound of waves crashing along the beach provided a background noise that Betsy found particularly relaxing. She was sitting tailor fashion on the beach, looking out across the ocean at the distant horizon. This was about as calm as Betsy could appear to act. It truly was an appearance of calm rather than true calm. She was digging two holes. She was excavating one hole with each hand, and using the sand in the other hand to fill it in again. The strength required to shove her hands into the sand up to her wrists in one fast motion was immense. She was shoveling sand back and forth, about thirty times per minute. Although her eyes were on the horizon, she wasn't seeing anything. Her mind was working overtime, trying to remember events at the frat house party. There were little flashes of memories she could dredge up, but they weren't quite connecting together to form a complete story. It was frustrating beyond belief. There was a little snippet of her biting his arm; but she knew that she didn't bite it off, despite what others claimed. There was a little flash of a memory of a door closing on an arm. She remembered hitting him, but it was with her fists and feet. She also remembered grabbing something and swinging it. She thought it was a lamp, but it might not have been one. It could have been an arm, but she didn't think so. She remembered blood spraying everywhere. Her clearest memory, was of the room looking like it was melting, all around her. Everything writhed like snakes mating, twisting and warping to a point where her stomach rebelled. She knew it was a result of the drugs Malcolm had slipped her. She was sure that the drugs had also scrambled the sequence of events in her memory. She kept struggling to pull it together. She was stumbling and being pulled away from the dance floor towards a room. She could see through the door that a bed was positioned in the middle of room. There was something wrong. Her feet weren't responding, and she nearly fell. He put his arm around her chest to hold her up. They went through a door. He spun her around, and roughly grabbed her crotch. She snapped. She grabbed his hand and pulled it away from her body. He threw her against the wall and tried to slap her. Her reflexes felt slow, but she grabbed his hand before he was able to hit her. He tried to overpower her. She stepped in and bit his bicep, tasting the blood from the wound she had administered. She stumbled, trying to keep her feet. She backed through the door. He reached for her. With one hand she grabbed his arm and used her other hand to slam the door shut. The door had severed his arm in the middle of his humerus. A horrible noise filled the air. She opened the door, thinking that she had to win this fight to end the noise. Blood was spraying everywhere from what was left of his arm. She started kicking him, over and over. She hit him with high kicks, roundhouse kicks, and flying jump kicks. There was more blood flying through the air. By the end, his body was kind of mushy. She staggered out of the room. Things were still spinning all around her. She stepped into the room where the party was. Disoriented and angry, she waved the thing in her hand around in the air. People started screaming. In her drugged state, she wondered why they were screaming. There was pushing and shoving as people tried to back away from her. While Betsy's mind was trapped in reconstructing her memories of that night, her body was running on autopilot. She was now thrusting her hands into the sand with sufficient force and speed to make a 'swi—ich' sound like a piece of sandpaper rubbing against a rock. Her hands were bleeding from the friction created by thrusting them into the sand. "Betsy!" The scream shook Betsy out of her thoughts. She stopped shoving her hands into the dirt. Anguish at the thought of having killed someone overwhelmed her. She started pounding the sand in front of her, in anger and frustration. She wanted to damn that man for what he tried to do, and what his death was doing to her. "Betsy!" Betsy collapsed unconscious on the sand. Sally stood over her with tears streaming down her cheeks. She knelt down and put her arms under Betsy. She tried to lift the young woman's body to carry her back to the house, but she didn't have the strength. Ed, his voice sounding warm and comforting, said, "Let me carry her, Sally." Sally backed away while asking, "Is she going to be all right?" "William has said she is going to be okay." Ed picked up Betsy, cradling her in his arms. He carried her up the beach, along the path, and to a chair in the backyard. He set her down in the chair taking care that she didn't slip out. "Shouldn't we put her in bed?" Sally asked. She had a hand to her mouth, and was biting on a knuckle. "William said to put her here ... that it would help her heal," Ed answered. He picked up a blanket and covered her with it. He stepped back and looked at his daughter with pity. "She's done something that no human should ever have to do." "What?" "She killed another human being," Ed answered. He sighed and added, "Despite her ability to be violent, and her tendency to be physically aggressive, she has a good heart. Her actions have cut her to her core. She has to come to grips with what she's done." "I feel so sorry for her," Sally said. Ed pointed to a chair and said, "Have a seat." Sally sat down and looked over at Betsy. Betsy actually looked peaceful for a change. She realized she had never seen Betsy when not constantly in motion. There was a subtle difference in how she looked now, from how she had looked on the beach. It seemed to her that Betsy had transitioned from unconsciousness, to sleep. She examined Betsy's bloody hands amazed at the amount of damage she had done to herself. There was a damp towel on the table. She used the towel to gently wipe the blood and sand off Betsy's hands. She sighed and spoke to the sleeping Betsy. "I envy you. You're so strong and confident. You're really strong in more ways than just physically. There's an inner strength within you. You tell me about the things in your life that you can't do because of your condition. Most people would be devastated. You might sigh for a minute, but then you pick yourself up and charge on. It's like nothing can stop you. You can move through a crowd without a care in the world. You know there are bad people in the world, but you don't let that deter you from embracing everyone, and everything, around you. You're fearless." With the blood cleaned away, she could see the numerous abrasions caused by the sand. She was about to toss the towel back on the table when she noticed a tube of antiseptic cream. Her first thought was that it had appeared from nowhere, but then she realized it had been hidden under the damp towel. She set the dirty towel off to the side. She picked up the tube of antiseptic cream and opened it. She squeezed some antiseptic cream in her palm. Taking Betsy's hand, she massaged the cream into the hand. She used long languorous strokes to spread the cream evenly. Sally said, "Me? I'm just the opposite of you. I'm weak, and frightened of everything. I barely have the will to get through the day. I hide in my office with the lights off and a keep out sign on the door. That's isn't embracing life. That's hiding from life. I can't help it. I'm afraid." Sally put another squirt of cream in her hand. She took Betsy's other hand and massaged the cream over the abrasions. "A man drugged you with Rophenol and Ecstasy. There was enough in your blood to kill a normal person, but you didn't succumb to it. You fought off the drugs, and you fought off an awful, evil, man. "I know you feel bad about what you did to him, but I think you did a great service to the world. He had been accused of eight rapes, and we don't know if those were the only ones he did. He had cameras hidden in that room. He was going to film you getting raped. He was arranging for a bunch of men to have you. They were going to take you one, two, and three at a time. Some of the guys were already getting in line. "It wouldn't have been the first time he video taped one of his victims, either. They found a video on his computer of one of his past rapes. What happened to that poor girl is horrible. He damaged her physically, emotionally, and spiritually. She is in a facility for people who have lost touch with reality. She'll never be whole again. "I really don't think you should feel bad about what you did to him. You didn't kill a human being. He may have had a human shape, but he wasn't human. Don't think for a minute that you killed a human being. I wouldn't lie to you about that, Betsy." Sally folded Betsy's hands on her lap before sagging back in her chair. She watched Betsy sleep for a few minutes. It was kind of amazing to see how limp and unmoving Betsy was when asleep. There wasn't a single sign that Betsy was a powerhouse of movement. She said, "Your brother, William, told Steve and me that we should ask you rather than Gary to train us in the martial arts. He said that Gary's style is aimed at killing, while your style of fighting is an art form. I would like to learn to fight, but I don't want to be a killer. I'd like to learn how to defend myself in case I'm attacked one day by a monster in a man's clothing. "You said once that I could be without fear if I'm with someone who can protect me. I'm not sure that I agree with you about that. If I really thought someone would protect me against any and all, then I would know he or she loves me. I'd be afraid for them. It would be a fear of a different kind, but it would still be fear. I think I should know how to protect myself. That way I could stand beside my protector. I might still be afraid, but it would be a shared fear. It would be the kind of fear that Gary says gives one an edge. I think that I can live with that." Sally looked around the garden, and then closed her eyes to concentrate on the odors and sounds that filled the air. The strongest scent was the earthy smell of the rich soil beneath her. The scents of exotic tropical flowers filled the air. Under all the stronger smells, was that of the ocean. It was a salty fresh scent that teased the nose. There were the sounds of birds. With a little effort she could actually hear wings beating when a bird flitted from one place to another. The birds were quiet, with nary a peep from them. There were the muted sounds of people moving about and doing things, coming from inside the house. In the distance, she could hear the crash of waves. She opened her eyes, once again taken by the plethora of colors that surrounded her. The rich greens of grass and leaves; bright scarlets, yellows, whites and purples of the flowers; the blue of the sky above; the dark rich color of the soil below; and the muted browns and greens of the trees. This was truly a tropical paradise. It was so easy, sitting there, to forget one's problems. It was like you and they existed in different worlds. This was a good place to retreat, and heal. It was a safe harbour. Betsy had picked the perfect place to make a home. Sally looked at Betsy and said, "You're very lucky. You have a large family that loves you very much. They all want to help and support you. Your father is a very imposing man, but he's capable of demonstrating incredible gentleness. You should have seen the soft expression on his face, when he carried you up here. He was filled with concern. Your brother is just as intense, but in a different way. He's just a little older than us, but a lot older than us at the same time. He appears to be one step apart from the rest of the world ... then you realize that he's aware of everything around him. He knows things that no one should know. It's kind of frightening. "His wife is a doll. She's cute, smart, and caring. She's teaching us Tai Chi. It's kind of weird to be standing there naked while another woman is posing your body. I don't know why, but I like her. I think your brother is a very lucky man to have found her. I was listening to them talk one night while you were still in jail. I didn't understand a single word they were saying. I don't think there are many people in the world who could have understood them. "I see how all your family looks at you. It is clear that they love you. It's not like they are blind to your faults; but they see them, accept them, and love you for how you are. I tell you, that's something special. You say that their attention is overwhelming at times, but I don't know if I understand how that can be. I don't want to bore you with my family history, but I was ignored. I've been ignored my whole life. I was a single child, and a 'latch key kid'. I spent all of my time at home, alone. I was too smart for the kids in school, and never managed to connect with anyone there. The kids at school were cruel. Then I'd return home, and there'd be no one to talk with. It was an empty lonely existence." William stood at the window with an arm draped loosely on Lucy's shoulder. His father stood next to him, watching the scene in the garden. Lucy asked, "Is she going to be okay?" "Yes," William answered. Ed said, "She has a resilient spirit." "I'm glad to see that she's finally found a friend," Lucy said. William chuckled at a flashback to a conversation he'd once had with a wise old man. He said, "It's now a war party of two. With Steve, it will become a war party of three. I've been there and done that." "You're remembering Kotyit," Lucy said, highly attuned to even the slightest shift in his mood. "Yes," William said. "Will she ever find a boyfriend?" Lucy asked. "It would take a very special man to live with her," Ed said. Lucy said, "I don't think there is anyone who could live with her, without having as much stamina as she has." "I don't know if that is going to be a problem. She's in the process of changing. You can't see it, but it is there. I feel it," William said. He glanced at his father and said, "That isn't my foresight at work." "Interesting," Ed said. William said, "Lucy, would you grab our camera? We need to get up to the top of one of the mountains and back, before nightfall." "What for?" William said, "There's a species of bird that everyone thinks is extinct living not that far from here. It would be a good idea to get a picture of it and send it off to John, so that he can take the necessary steps to protect it." "How do you know that?" Lucy asked. "'A little bird told me, '" William answered. Ed said, "That sounds like fun. I wish I could go with you." "You can. Betsy isn't going to need us, for now," William said. Ed said, "I'm going to the big island to talk to the woman who was in Betsy's cell." William said, "There's no need for you to go there. She'll know where to go, when she's called to service." "What?" Ed asked. "Oh, sorry. I forgot you were going there for a different reason," William said with a sly grin. Knowing that this last statement wasn't exactly the truth, Ed stared at him. "Go ahead and talk to her about her time with Betsy. I think you'll find what she says to be very interesting. Considering what Vicki promised to do to Betsy, I think my sister showed amazing restraint. Momma Ling would have performed all of those acts on Vicki, and then taken at least a day to kill her," William said. Starting slowly, but increasing in speed, Betsy's left leg started bouncing up and down. Her eyes flew open. She jumped out of her chair, provoking a startled scream from Sally. Betsy stretched and then started moving around. "I guess I kind of spazzed out there for a little bit," Betsy said. "I was worried about you," Sally said. Betsy said, "I need to run a little." "I understand," Sally said. Betsy took a few quick steps away, then came back and said, "Thank you." "For what?" "For being here for me," Betsy said. Betsy leaned forward and kissed Sally on the cheek. It was the kind of awkward, spur of the moment gesture that was made even more meaningful, because it was an awkward and spur of the moment act. It came from the heart. Betsy turned and disappeared around the corner of the house. She was suddenly finding it difficult to see where she was running. Tears were welling up in her eyes, blurring her vision. Although apparently asleep, Betsy had been half awake from the time Ed had placed her in the chair. Every word Sally had said, had seeped into her awareness. With Sally convinced that Betsy wouldn't hear or remember a word she'd said, the words she had spoken were unguarded and honest. A lot of what she said overwhelmed Betsy. The comment that she hadn't killed a human being, but something that only looked human, echoed in Betsy's mind. Once she thought about it and started to embrace the idea, a gentle warm feeling descended upon her. There was more than a touch of truth to that statement. A human being would not and could not take pleasure in drugging someone, and then raping them in the horribly degrading fashion that had been planned for her. After Betsy had run off, Sally headed back down the beach. She had gone there earlier, out of a desire to be alone with her thoughts. She wasn't used to being around so many people for such a protracted amount of time. The need for solitude had become nearly overwhelming. Her desire for solitude was to be denied, though. She found herself standing next to an elderly nude woman, who was standing next to a small pile of clothes. The woman looked just as surprised to see Sally as Sally was to see her. "Oh, my!" Bess said. She had decided to give Betsy's suggestion of going naked on the beach with her husband, a try. She thought a trial run, when no one was around, would be a good idea. She was willing to risk running into Betsy, though, who normally ran through here on the way into the water at about this time. "Oh! Sorry! I didn't know anyone was here," Sally said. Although she practiced Tai Chi outdoors in the nude under the watchful eyes of Lucy Carter, she was having a great deal of difficulty with the casual nudity that seemed common at Betsy's house. She didn't feel that she'd ever be at ease with it. She didn't condemn public nudity, it was just that she was shy and inhibited. Her feelings were rooted in modesty, rather than disapproval. Trying to cover herself, Bess said, "Who are you?" "I'm Sally. I'm a friend of Betsy's. I'm staying here with her family through her recent difficulty," Sally answered. "I'm Bess. I'm a neighbor," Bess said while bending down and picking up her panties. She stood. While stepping into her panties, she asked, "Where's Betsy?" "She's gone for a run," Sally said. "Oh, darn. I really was hoping to see her," Bess said while putting on her bra. "I have no idea when she'll be back. I'll tell her to call you when she gets back," Sally said. Bess knelt down and picked up the shirt dress. She put it on and started buttoning it. "It's not really a crisis. I just wanted to apologize." "Apologize for what?" "It's kind of a long story," Bess answered, closing the last button. Alice appeared behind Sally. She noticed Bess and said, "Hello, Bess." "Hello, Alice." "Is Betsy swimming with her pet sharks?" Alice asked. "She's gone for a run," Sally said. Alice asked, "Were you looking for Betsy?" "I was hoping to see her during her morning swim," Bess answered. "I'll let her know you wanted to see her," Alice said. Bess said, "That's okay. I'll see her around sometime, I'm sure." Alice said, "You know, when the news about Betsy first broke, I believed what they were saying about her. I was sure she had gone overboard in putting down a guy who got a little too fresh." "I thought the same thing. It was a natural conclusion after watching that fight with her mother." Getting angry, Sally asked, "How could you think that?" Alice said, "You didn't see the fight. It was brutal." "If Betsy had gone after that guy in the same way she had fought her mother, thinking that he would be able to defend himself, she would have killed him," Bess said. Sally said, "I watched Gary fight another guy the other day. It really looked brutal, but he told me that they weren't really hitting each other as hard as it looked." "I watched that fight from the house. It was nothing like what Betsy and her mother did. Gary said he wouldn't last a minute with Betsy," Alice said. "They probably weren't hitting each other as hard as it looked," Sally said. "They were hitting so hard that they broke a tree, bent a wrought iron table, and destroyed a storage shed. They weren't only hitting that hard, they were getting hit that hard. A regular person would have folded up after the first blow," Alice said. Sally said, "Well, I know Betsy. She wouldn't kill a guy because he tried to kiss her." "I realized that, real quick, after I talked to her father. He knew exactly what had happened," Alice said. Bess said, "I didn't know until that television program aired. I was thinking Betsy deserved to be in jail, until I learned how she was the real victim in that whole mess. I couldn't believe they would do that too a young woman like her." "It was disgusting," Alice said. "That District Attorney got off too easily by killing himself." "Judge Jordan, too." Alice said, "They were traitors. They should have been put up against the wall and shot." Bess said, "You can say that again." Sally said, "I don't get it. First you say that they got off too easily by shooting themselves, and then you say they should have been shot. Make up your mind." "There's a difference," Bess said. "What difference? Dead is dead!" "One is escaping punishment. The other is the punishment. There is a difference," Alice said. "One end comes before exposure, and the other after," Bess said nodding her head in agreement. Not quite sure she believed it, Sally said, "I guess that makes sense." "Nothing disgusts me more than treason," Alice said giving a snort of disgust. Bess said, "It is worse than rape." "Oh, come on," Sally said. Alice said, "Rape is a crime against an individual." "While treason is a crime against every man, woman, and child in the country," Bess said. "You're saying that taking a bribe is worse than sexually assaulting someone?" Sally said. "I don't buy it." Alice said, "Just think of it this way. If the traitors hadn't looked the other way on the first rape committed by Malcolm, there wouldn't have been a second, a third, a fourth..." "Rape wasn't only crime that he committed. There were other crimes," Bess said. "It was the treason of those who accepted bribes, that allowed even greater evils to be committed," Alice said. "Treason looks like a victimless crime, but everyone pays a terrible price as a result." "Are you two sisters?" Sally asked. "No." "Why would you ask that?" Bess asked glancing over at Alice. "You two think alike," Sally said. "No we don't." "Not at all." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 14 Sweating profusely, Betsy wrestled the fifty-five gallon steel drum down the ramp from the 'Bloated Shark' to the dock. The wooden ramp creaked under the strain of the load. Forty-five gallons of salt water weighed over three hundred and eighty pounds. It was a little too bulky and heavy even for Betsy to carry. The Bloated Shark was the name she had given the tugboat she had purchased for a research platform. When she had found it, it was just an old tug that had seen better days. It had been in sad shape, but Betsy had fallen in love with it. She had blown her initial budget purchasing the tug. A million dollars wasn't what it used to be! Although she was ready to finance everything, she had been pleased when William had kicked in a couple million dollars. The money covered all of the repairs and modifications required to turn the tug into a modern, state of the art, research vessel. It had spent three months in dry dock. She had power washed the outside clear of barnacles, washed it with commercial hull cleaner, scraped it, and used a lime remover to thoroughly clean the hull. She had then scraped the old paint off of nearly every inch of the tug, and painted it white with blue trim. Wheels and Sam had gone through it, basically rebuilding or replacing every major mechanical part of the tug. They had added a diving platform, winches, compressors, and other support equipment appropriate for a research vessel. There was even a set of davits, mounted for the submersible that had been ordered. Betsy had just returned from the maiden voyage of the rebuilt tug. She had discovered a number of very interesting things on that trip. Sam didn't like being on water; and Wheels, much to everyone's surprise, suffered from sea sickness. The best news was that the tug was a great boat, and handled like a dream. Professor Parrish stood on board the boat watching Betsy struggle with the fifty-five gallon barrel. He had tried to talk her out of filling it with so much water. It wasn't an appropriate container for storing samples. They had smaller containers, called buckets, for that. Betsy danced around looking at the barrel. She gave an excited shout and then ran off leaving Professor Parish trying to figure out how to get off the tug when the end of the ramp was blocked with a barrel he had no chance of moving. "Where did she go?" He looked over at Wheels. Figuratively speaking, she was still a rather unattractive shade of green. She was actually very pale and sweating. Her swagger had been replaced by a stagger. She also wasn't in shape to go anywhere. He wished Sam was still on board the tug to help him with Wheels, but Sam had actually moved faster than Betsy in getting off the boat. He had been shocked to see her move so fast. After listening to her continuous pleas to be returned to land for six hours, her absence was a nice return to quiet. Wheels lurched and hung over the side of the tug. Her dry heaves had returned. He was sympathetic, but knew there wasn't much he could do for her. Betsy returned carrying two skate boards. She announced, "This will fix it!" "Fix what?" Professor Parrish asked. Betsy lifted one side of the barrel and shoved a skateboard under it. She moved around, lifted the other side of the barrel, and shoved the other skateboard under it. She pushed the barrel and it rolled forward. "Ta Da!" "What?" "I can move it now," Betsy said. "Can you turn it?" Professor Parrish asked knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to maneuver the barrel. After a minute of trying to turn it, she said, "No." "I suggest that you use a dolly," he said. "I'll be right back!" "Wait a minute," he shouted after her, knowing it was too late for her to hear him. Professor Parrish went over to the storage cabinet and removed a dolly. He walked down the ramp. It took him a few minutes to get the barrel on the dolly. The hard part had been getting the skateboards out from under it. After running to and from a hardware store, Betsy returned to the boat dragging a dolly behind her. She looked at what he had done and frowned. "Where'd that come from?" "The storage cabinet. We put one there to help move samples on and off the boat," he said. "Oh. It sure would have been easier getting the barrel off the boat using that. Why didn't you tell me about it?," Betsy asked. "I didn't know what you were trying to do with the barrel until it was too late. You ran off before I could tell you that we had one," Professor Parrish said. "Oh," Betsy said. "I guess I should return this one." "We can always use another one," he said. "Okay," Betsy said. "Where are you taking the barrel?" "To the lab," Betsy answered. "How?" "I'll put it in our ... ahhh..." Betsy answered until realizing they didn't have a vehicle capable of carrying a fifty five gallon drum. She said, "I'll just take it there." "We can transfer the fish into a couple of buckets." Betsy smiled, "The barrel is fine. I'll only have to make one trip with the barrel." "It's a long way to the lab." "No problem," Betsy said. "I'll just run it up there and come back to help clean up the boat." She looked awkward trying to push the barrel down the dock. Her feet were moving very fast, but the overall progress was rather slow. When the water inside the barrel would start to slosh around, it became much harder to control. She had a lid, poked full of air holes on the barrel, so that not much water spilled out of it. Professor Parrish helped Wheels off the boat. Much to her horror, the land was moving beneath her feet. She staggered over to the side of the dock, and leaned over. She hated dry heaves. "I'm never going on a boat again!" Wheels said with a groan. Professor Parrish said, "I can use some help cleaning up the boat." Wheels looked at him like he was crazy and said, "I just said 'I'm never going on a boat again.'" Professor Parrish looked back at the wheel house thinking that he alone would have to help Captain Jack clean up the boat. Just because they had docked didn't mean they could all just walk away. The boat's deck had to be cleaned. Everything had to be put away. There was trash to take to the dumpster. John Wallace, known as Jack by all of his friends and as Captain Jack by everyone else, had been hired as full-time captain of the boat. It was a rather cushy job that paid well, particularly for the work he would have to do. The expectation was that they wouldn't spend that much time offshore, but when they did go out they would be out for days at a time. When he was on shore, his job was to take care of the boat. It was a lot better than his previous job running a tour boat. If it hadn't been for all of the tourists, it would have been a good job. The biggest problem with tourists was that three quarters of them would get seasick and beg to be taken back to shore. Captain Jack came out of the wheel house and looked at Wheels. He said, "You take care of her. I'll clean up the boat." Professor Parrish said, "Thanks. I'll explain to Betsy that she has to take care of the boat before and after a trip. You just don't walk off like that." "Don't worry about it," Captain Jack said. "I'll need some help with the diving gear," Professor Parrish said. "Let's get to it. She'll recover in a half an hour," Captain Jack said gesturing to Wheels. An hour later, Betsy stopped in front of a lab door. She knocked and shouted, "Hello? Is there anybody home?" Sally opened her lab door. She started to step out, but found her way blocked by a barrel. "Look at what I brought you," Betsy said. "You brought me a barrel," Sally said staring at it. "I brought you some fish," Betsy said. "Why did you bring me fish?" "You said that you needed fish for your parasites. I brought you fish. I didn't know what kind you needed, so I brought a variety of them. You've got big fish and little fish. Ugly plain fish and bright colorful fish." "That was nice of you," Sally said. "Why didn't you put them in sample buckets?" "I thought this would be easier," Betsy said looking a little sheepish. "Was it?" "No." "Well, lets see what you brought me," Sally said. Betsy removed the lid and stepped back, pleased with herself. "There you go. Twenty live and healthy fish." Sally looked in the barrel and said, "I only see six." "Six?" Betsy said moving over to look inside. "Damn! The big fish must have eaten all of the little fish." "That's another reason to carry them in buckets. You can segregate them," Sally said. Betsy said, "You live and learn." Sally looked in the barrel. She had been spending the last week setting up the fish tanks to hold her subjects. She was lucky there weren't more fish since she only had ten tanks prepared. It took some time to set up a tank. She said, "Let's put them in the fish tanks." Betsy pushed the barrel into Sally's lab. The room was basically dark except for the lights over the fish tanks which occupied two walls of the lab. Only half of the tanks were filled with water. Betsy stopped in front of the tank Sally indicated they would use for the fish. Her hand shot out and she pulled a fish out of the barrel. She dropped the fish in the tank. "Why don't you use a net?" "This is easier," Betsy said dropping another fish into the next tank. Considering how fast Betsy moved, Sally decided that she was probably right. There were times when watching Betsy was amazing. This was one of those times. She was able to reach in and grab the fish before it even had a chance to react. Betsy said, "I really thought the barrel would be easier for me to handle than a bunch of pails. To tell the truth, I hate pails. They slosh around when I carry them. By the time I get to where I'm going, they're half empty." "You really thought a barrel would be easier?" "I figured that I would just pick it up and carry it over here. I didn't realize just how heavy a barrel full of water would be until I went to move it. Boy was I surprised." "I can imagine," Sally said unable to imagine that a woman would think she could lift a fifty-five gallon barrel full of water. "They are also kind of awkward to move." Sally looked at the dolly and said, "Not really. You just walk along and push the dolly." "You know that walking is a little slow for me," Betsy said. "Sometimes I forget that your natural speed is a flat out run," Sally said shaking her head as if to clear it. "I discovered the hard way that you don't run while pushing a barrel," Betsy said. Sally was beginning to realize that Betsy wasn't really an airhead as this experience might suggest. The young woman had to accommodate her unusual degree of energy in everything she did. Carrying a single bucket of water across a room was a lot easier and quicker than making twenty trips carrying the water in a teacup. A strong adult could handle a filled bucket a whole lot easier than child could. It was possible that Betsy really did think that using a barrel was a good idea. Sally said, "Sometimes I forget how alone you are." "What do you mean?" Betsy asked curiously. Sally said, "There's no one with your strength, speed, and energy, to show you easy ways to do things. You have to figure everything out for yourself." "I'm used to it," Betsy said. Sally looked at the six fish tanks containing the fish Betsy had delivered. "I do appreciate the fish." "How many more do you need?" Betsy asked. "About fifty, total, and they all need to be the same kind. It would be ideal if they are all the same age and initial health," Sally said. "Why so many?" Betsy asked. "I need a couple of fish to use as controls. I'll infect the others. Every week, I'll make measurements of all of them. Then I'll kill a couple, open them up, and see how the parasitic infection is developing. That way I'll be able to track the whole life cycle of the parasite." "Are you sure that fifty fish are enough?" "For this phase of my research, it is more than enough," Sally said. "Let me know when you need more fish, and I'll catch them," Betsy said. "They're easy enough to catch." "It'll take me a week or so, just to finish setting up the fish tanks," Sally said. "I guess you can't wait to start your experiments." Sally said, "I suppose so. You know that from now on, I'm stuck having to come to the lab every day." "Why?" Betsy asked. "Someone has to feed the fish," Sally answered gesturing at the tanks. "That means you won't be able to come visit my house," Betsy said disappointed. "That's right," Sally answered. That was not the answer Betsy wanted to hear. She knew that she hadn't lost a friend, just that some of their activities together would have to be curtailed a bit. They could still go out to dinner together. Sally could visit the condo, and they would still have their late night chats over tea or hot chocolate. "Maybe you can hire an undergraduate student to come in and feed the fish over the weekends," Betsy said. Sally thought about it. She had a pretty good budget, thanks to the Betsy's financial support, and could afford to do that. It was likely that there was an undergraduate student struggling financially who would appreciate having a part-time job on campus. "I could do that," Sally said. "Let's write an ad, and give it to Professor Parrish," Betsy said. Talking about Professor Parrish reminded Betsy that he was waiting for her back at the boat. She was supposed to be cleaning the boat. Betsy said, "I forgot. He's waiting for me at the boat. I'll be right back!" Betsy dashed out of the lab leaving Sally alone with a barrel full of water. "She's a piece of work," Sally said. She sighed. "It was nice of her to bring me some fish, though. I guess I'll have to cancel the order for fish. Then again, I should probably talk to Professor Parrish before I do anything." Sally walked along the tanks looking at the fish inside. She knew that she'd get to know these fish very well over the next year. That would be just the first stage of her research. She went over to her desk to re-read the experimental protocol. She sighed thinking of how much work it represented. She could handle the work, but it was the presentation of the result that terrified her. That might be a couple of years in the future, but it loomed large in her mind none the less. She knew that Betsy was trying to build up her self-confidence, but she didn't think it was possible. She hadn't even finished reading when Betsy popped back into the room. "You're back," Sally said. "Captain Jack had just finished cleaning up the boat. Professor Parrish is somewhere on campus. I imagine he's pretty upset about me running off like I did," Betsy said. "Why would he be upset? You're paying the Captain. I can see where it would be different if Professor Parrish was paying the Captain," Sally said. Betsy looked at Sally with a puzzled expression on her face. She asked, "What does it matter who pays him?" "I mean, you're the boss. You can just say it is part of his job," Sally said. "That's not right," Betsy said. "What do you mean?" Betsy said, "Just because someone works for you, doesn't make him or her your slave. They're a partner in what you do. You pay someone to do a job, but your money doesn't buy loyalty or friendship. You have to earn that. You don't earn it by treating someone as your slave. You have to embrace him or her in your heart, and make him or her part of your life." Sally had noticed that Betsy treated her staff very well. It was actually quite obvious. She often brought treats she knew they would enjoy with her when she went home on weekends. Now that she thought about it, there were lots of exchanges of little gifts among everyone within the household. "You really believe that," Sally said. "Anyone who thinks they can own another human being is dead wrong." "I know that, but..." Betsy said, "I make my bed every morning even though I have a housekeeper. I could ask her to do that, but the time she spent on that task would take away from the time she spends making breakfast. I don't mind making my bed. She would do it, but she doesn't really like making beds. I can't cook, so I leave it to her to do. She likes making breakfast. "If Alice was not happy living and working with me, she wouldn't put so much effort into making sure my breakfasts are good. She wouldn't ever ask herself which of these breakfast foods would Betsy like. She'd just pick whatever was handy until I ordered her to buy only this or that or demanded that she make a certain dish. That wouldn't good for anyone." "I see what you mean," Sally said. Betsy said, "I guess I better go find Professor Parrish and apologize." "I'll be here waiting for... ," Sally said before realizing that Betsy had already left the room. She looked at the barrel and asked, "What am I going to do with that?" There were two boxes of equipment stacked between the barrel and the sink. There was no way to move the barrel over to the sink. In order to empty the barrel, she was going to have to ferry the water in the barrel over to the sink. There was a lot of water in that barrel. She got up and grabbed a large beaker. She dunked it in the water filling it with seawater and then carried it over to the sink where she emptied it. She looked back at her path and saw that she had spilled a little water while carrying it. She returned to the barrel to repeat the process. "I need a bucket," Sally said holding up the beaker. She thought about what she had just said, and groaned, "Oh, God! I'm turning into her!" She made another round trip before she said, "This is ridiculous. I'm going to have to get a bucket." She looked around and then at one of the fish tanks. The tanks were built to hold water. A filter system continuously recycled the water isolated to a single tank. There was a mechanism built into the filter system to divert a portion of the water into the drain and replace it with fresh water from a holding tank. It was a struggle for her to move the barrel over to the tank. She then used the beaker to transfer water from the barrel into the fish tank allowing the filtration system pump it to the drain. It was a slow process for emptying the barrel, but it was still a hundred times faster than trudging back and forth across the lab. She was about a third of the way through the task of emptying the barrel when Betsy returned. Betsy took one look at she was doing and said, "You are so smart!" "Thanks," Sally said. "I'll bet I can pick it up now," Betsy said. "That's okay. I'm managing fine." "No problem." Betsy picked the barrel up with a groan, and started to pour the water into the fish tank. It was an effort, but she managed to empty the barrel. Once it was empty, she held it up with one hand. "I'll take it back to where I got it from," Betsy said. "That would be good ... She's gone!" "I'm back," Betsy said cheerfully. "So how did it go with Professor Parrish?" Betsy said, "He started to give me a long lecture about the responsibilities of being a member of the crew on a research vehicle, but I told him that I knew what he was going to say. I apologized and promised that it would never happen again." "He believed you?" "Of course. I was sincere," Betsy said. "I explained that I thought it would only take a few minutes to get the barrel up here, and that I'd be back before they even had a chance to start cleaning the boat. To tell the truth, I was kind of surprised that it took me so long to get here. I must be slowing down." "I don't think so," Sally said, as it seemed to her that Betsy's movements had become even more frantic over the past few weeks. Even at this moment, Betsy was running in place at a blisteringly fast pace. "I think you've kind of sped up the past few weeks." "No." "Yes." "Why do you say that?" Betsy asked. Sally asked, "When was the last time you clocked yourself?" "I don't know." "You might want to do what ever you do, to see how fast you are," Sally said. "I think the answer will surprise you." Betsy said, "I remember my times in the last Olympic 5000 meter run I participated in. I could just do that again." "Please do," Sally said. Her fear was that Betsy was reacting in some manner to the events that had occurred two months previously. Was an increase in fidgeting a sign of an emotional backlash from having killed a man? She hoped that she would be proved wrong. "I'll be right back," Betsy said. "I'll be ... She's already gone," Sally said. Sally sat down and leaned back in her office chair to await Betsy's to return. Since Betsy didn't cook, she ate out every night. Sally went with her two nights a week at Betsy's insistence. Betsy didn't like eating alone every night. Tonight was one of the evenings they were to have dinner together. She watched the fish swimming lazily in individual tanks. There was something calming, almost hypnotic, about watching fish. Like Betsy, they were always moving, but theirs was a languid movement whereas Betsy's motions had more of frenzied feel to them. In a way, Betsy always made her think of an exercise junky on amphetamines. It was almost like she was driven to get stronger and faster in order to compete in the ultimate athletic event. Or maybe she was the female version of Hercules and was preparing her body to undertake ten impossible labors on behalf of the Gods and Goddess. Knowing her family's involvement with the Gods and Goddess, that wasn't as an unlikely a prospect as it might seem. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 15 Alice was seated at the kitchen table drinking coffee with her visitor. He was a good looking young man dressed in a Marine uniform, with the insignia of a Corporal on it. He had that haunted look of ever present awareness of his surroundings, common to individuals leaving an active war zone. Alice was very familiar with how to deal with men in that state of mind, having experienced a lifetime of greeting soldiers just returned from war. The young man was her youngest son, George. George said, "It's becoming a war of attrition. They're losing people, and we're losing support. "Since their ability to recruit new supporters based on religion was destroyed, they can't replenish their forces with the ease of the past. Since their goals have transitioned from religious grounds, to political conquest, they've also had to become more visible." "That's good, isn't it?" Alice asked. "Yes and no. It's a whole lot easier to identify the enemy, but we're talking about forces composed of very experienced fighters who are desperate. That makes them very dangerous," George replied. "Are we making progress in calming the world down?" "Like I said, it is a war of attrition. Their forces are reducing in size. Political support for our forces is waning so we can't put as many people in the field. The situation would be a lot less dangerous if we had a few more boots on the ground. We could put an end to all of these revolutionary armies in a short time," George said. Alice said, "It's always politics." "Yes, it is," George said. Charlie, wearing long pants, walked into the room. She stopped upon seeing the uniform and said, "Hey, Marine!" "Hello." "Third Division, Third Regiment," Charlie said. She smiled and added, "Second Battalion." "First Battalion," George said pointing to his patch. "I was in the Second," Charlie said. The two started trading the typical questions to establish their bona fides, "Do you know so and so?" and "Were you in such and such a place?" It didn't take them long to establish a half dozen mutual acquaintances and that they had rotated through the same places but at different times. George asked, "So what are you doing here?" "Lost a foot," Charlie answered. "Sorry to hear that." "It could have been worse," Charlie said. "What are you doing here?" "We've just about got a handle on the situation in the Philippines, so they're pulling a bunch of us out to send over to Pakistan," George answered. Charlie swore, "They couldn't let you finish the job before pulling you out?" "They've got a couple thousand left, so we only need a couple thousand to fight them," George said. Charlie said, "Damn politicians. Pardon my French, Alice." "I've used the word damn on more than one occasion," Alice said. "I wasn't apologizing for saying damn. I was apologizing for saying politicians," Charlie said. George laughed at that. Alice chuckled. It was pretty obvious all three agreed on their assessment of the current political climate. Charlie said, "In a way, I'm kind of sad to be out of the corps. I miss some of it. Not the chicken shit stuff you have to put up with sometimes, but I miss the people." "I know what you mean," George said. "So are you career?" Charlie asked. George looked a little uncomfortable about answering that particular question. After glancing over at his mother, he answered, "I don't know. If I didn't know better, I'd say that Congress is trying to get rid of the Marine Corps by killing off all of the Marines. The last budget cut left us short of air cover. I don't know what to do." "I'm proud you're a Marine," Alice said. "I hate to say that I agree with your assessment. Your brothers have said the same kinds of things to me." Charlie said, "Damn politicians." "Yeah," Alice said. About to head to the beach, Betsy bounced into the room. As normal, she was nude in anticipation of running straight to the water, and swimming. She stopped upon seeing George. "You must be George!" "You must be Betsy," George said averting his eyes. "Boy! Don't you look good in that uniform," Betsy said. George didn't know how to respond to that. He was half tempted to say that she looked good in her outfit, but bit his tongue. His mother, amused by the situation, was grinning at him. "Thank you," he said. "You're welcome," Betsy said. She turned to Alice and said, "We're having another guest drop in this afternoon." "Who?" "Penny." With Betsy having another guest, Alice realized that they were out of beds. It was pretty clear that her son would have to head back to the base. She had hoped to spend a little more time with him. "We're out of rooms," Alice said glancing at her son. "Don't worry about that. I'm sleeping out in the backyard tonight. Penny can use my room," Betsy said. Finding it a little difficult to converse with her because of her nudity and constant moving around, George said, "I can sleep out there." "Don't be ridiculous. You're a special guest," Betsy said dismissively. George looked up at her, and then looked away just as quickly when he realized he was staring straight at her breasts. It was really difficult talking to his mother's boss, when she was standing naked in front of him. He said, "Really, I'm used..." Betsy said, "I'm going swimming." "But..." "Enjoy your visit with your mother. She made cookies for you, you know." "I know, but..." There was the sound of a door slamming shut. He looked up and saw that she was gone. Rubbing his forehead, he said, "I wanted to tell her that sleeping outside is no big deal. Let's face it, I'm used to sleeping outside. Five days ago, I was sleeping on the ground next to our APC. Sleeping on her lounge chair in the backyard is going to be as good as lying in a bed." "She knows that you're a Marine and that you're used to some pretty rough conditions," Alice said. "I"ll just plan on sleeping outside," George said giving up. "You're Alice's son. I have a feeling that she's not going to allow you to sleep outside," Charlie said quietly. "I guess I could tell her that I'd rather stay at a hotel," George said thinking he could probably cover the cost. Dressed in a very conservative one piece bathing suit, Sally entered the kitchen on her way to the beach. She was supposedly going down there with Betsy, but her friend had charged ahead without her, as usual. She froze upon seeing George seated at the table. It took her a minute to remember that Alice was expecting her son for a visit. She said, "Oh, hello. You must be George." "Yes," George said. "I'm Sally." "Nice to meet you, Sally," George said not having a clue who she was or what her role was in this house. Sally said, "I take it that Betsy has already headed for the beach." "She popped in, said she had a guest coming, and then headed off to the beach," Alice said. "I know about Penny coming," Sally said. She looked at George. She asked, "Is he staying here, too?" "Yes." "Do you have enough rooms for everyone?" Sally asked thinking that there was one too many people in the house. "We don't. Betsy said that she would sleep in the backyard," Alice said. "I told her I could sleep outside, but she refused my offer," George said. Sally said, "Of course she refused. You're Alice's son. She wouldn't throw you out of the house." "I'm a Marine. I can handle it," George said. "It's not that. You're a special guest. You're Alice's son," Sally said not knowing how to explain it better than that. Alice shook her head. "Maybe I ought to go back to the big island, then nobody would have to sleep outside," Sally said thinking that she was the least important person at the house. Alice said, "I don't think that's what Betsy would want." Thinking there was a reasonable way out of this situation, George said, "How about I sleep on the floor in your room, Mom?" "That would be fine with me," Alice said. Shaking her head in the negative, Sally said, "Betsy wouldn't be happy about that." Charlie had been looking at George while the conversation had been taking place. Once a Marine, always a Marine. She was still a Marine. She said, "Hey, Marine. Do you want to bunk with me for a night or two?" Alice stared at Charlie wondering if she was offering more than just a place to sleep. Sally looked at George wondering how a man could possibly resist an offer like that. George was busy looking at Charlie trying to decide if she was serious in making her offer. Charlie was staring George in the eye until the light went off in his head. "So, Marine, what do you say?" "Semper Fi!" "Oorah!" "What's that mean?" Sally asked looking blankly at Alice hoping that she could explain to her what just happened. "Problem solved, Marine style," Alice said with a large grin. "You're Marines now. You adapt. You overcome. You improvise. Let's move. Four minutes," George said with a grin. Trying to look stern, Charlie said, "It's more like four hours before I get off work." "I stand corrected," George said looking at Charlie. Sally said, "That's a line from a movie, isn't it?" "Yes, it is. Living in a house with four Marines, I saw that movie a hundred times," Alice said. Sally frowned trying to put all of the pieces together. It slowly came to her. She said, "I get it. You're going to her place to sleep so that no one has to sleep out in the backyard!" "That's right," George said. "So I guess you're going to sleep on her couch or something," Sally said. "Or something," Charlie said. "What?" Alice asked. Charlie winked at her and answered, "A woman's got needs." "Oh," Sally said. She leaned over to Charlie and said, "Women actually do that kind of thing?" "Yes," Charlie said. Sally said, "I'm going swimming." "Have fun," Charlie said. Alice chuckled watching Sally clear out of the room. After the door slammed, she said, "She moved almost as fast as Betsy." "Yep," Charlie said. George asked, "Who is she?" "She's Betsy's best friend." "Okay," George said. The proximity alarm went off indicating that a car had turned into the driveway. With an almost palpable increase in tension, everyone sat up straighter. George, not really understanding what was going on, rose and faced door prepared for anything. It then went off indicating that the occupant had been recognized. Alice said, "Relax George." "False alarm?" "No. Most likely, Betsy's friend just showed up," Alice said. "The mysterious Penny," Charlie said. "Why do you say mysterious?" Alice asked. Charlie said, "There's no one named Penny in Betsy's address book." Gary entered the kitchen looking like he had seen a ghost. He said, "Penny's here." "You look kind of freaked," Alice said. "Penny is here." "Okay. Penny is here." "I smell Marines," a woman said from the door to the kitchen. Charlie turned around and looked at the woman. Almost choking, she said, "P ... P ... Penny!" George stared at the woman. "V ... V ... Vinter!" Having heard of a lot of stories about Penny Vinter, Alice couldn't believe this woman was formidable enough to have done half of the things attributed to her. She asked, "She's Penny Vinter?" Penny said, "Hey, Marines. How's the foot? Were they able to save it? And you! How's that million dollar wound, big boy?" "I lost the foot." Penny tapped her artificial leg and said, "It's not so bad. If you're an optimist like me, you know that at least you still have a leg to stand on." "Mostly I'm an optimist," Charlie said. "Mostly?" "I'm going to get laid tonight," Charlie said. "Good for you," Penny said. "I could use a little of the old bouncy bouncy on a bed." "The Army guy there is available," Charlie said. "How did I get dragged into this?" Gary asked. He had a girlfriend who he was dating quite frequently. Penny said, "Did you get the bronze star?" Charlie answered, "Yes." "How about you?" "Yes, I got one." "With valor, right?" Yes." Penny turned to Alice and said, "You must be proud of your boy." "I'll be real proud of him after I finish killing him for not telling me he was shot," Alice said glaring over at George. Charlie said, "There are Marines and then there are Mothers of Marines. We'd win the war if we sent the mothers of Marines over there. They bad guys wouldn't stand a chance." Penny Vinter laughed and said, "You can say that again." George asked, "What are you doing here?" "I'm getting some new fake legs. Sometimes I'm a little rough on them and they get damaged. I keep some spares, but now I'm down to the one I'm wearing," Penny said. "Well, you are always in the thickest part of things," Charlie said. Charlie remembered the day she'd been injured although there was a bit of fog after the injury. Even the bit where she got injured wasn't that clear. She had been on a search mission in an area that had seen a bit of action over the past few weeks. The terrain was rough and it was easy for a group to evade detection for quite a while. All of a sudden, bullets and RPGs were flying in from everywhere. She was diving for cover, there was an explosion, and then pain. It seemed like it took a second or two for the pain to kick in after the foot had been gone. She had rolled around on the ground holding her leg just above where the foot had once been attached. The next thing she knew, Penny had hit her with a morphine shot and was carrying her out of there. "You can say that again," George said. He had been in a firefight with a larger group of enemy. They were outnumbered two to one. The enemy even had the better position, tucked up along a ridge and shooting down at the Marines who had very little cover. He was hunkered down behind a rock, a real small rock, when he felt a sting in the meaty part of his leg. There wasn't much he could do except fire back. All of a sudden, Penny Vinter appeared. It was like she was dancing along the top of the ridge with a pistol in each hand. She was leaping from boulder to boulder, firing while flying through the air. From one end of the enemy position to the other, she jumped, spun, twisted, and turned. It was hard for the eye to follow. Penny had helped patch him up before disappearing. Fifteen minutes later, he was back in a firefight. This time the position favored the Marines and they cleaned up quite handily. It took a couple of days, but he was sent back to Hawaii to recover. Penny asked, "Where's Betsy?" Alice answered, "She's out swimming with her pet sharks." "Pet sharks?" Penny asked. "Pet sharks?" George echoed. Alice said, "She's got a couple of sharks that she swims with every time she's here." Charlie said, "You'd think that they were little puppies the way she talks about them." "One of these days, one of the Gods or the Goddess is going to call her to service. I can't even imagine what her service will entail," Penny said. "You're sure she'll be called?" Alice asked. "She's different enough from the rest of humanity that there's no doubt she's been touched by the Gods and the Goddess. In a way, she's just like her brother William. His gift was mental and her's is physical. Everyone knew that he'd end up serving the Two-Sided One. Everyone is sure that she's going to serve the God," Penny said. "What's it like?" "What do you mean, what's it like?" George said, "What's it like serving a God?" Penny answered, "That's a hard question to answer. I get to meet some of the finest people in the world. I worked with Oscar Meyers once. You couldn't imagine a finer person. I have a lot of respect for the men and women in uniform who serve to make the whole world a better place. "There is a dark side. I have to deal with some of the most evil people you can imagine. Right now, we're cleaning out a bunch of people who are addicted to war. They don't care why they're fighting, they just need to fight. William Redman Carter says that they won't be around for much longer and we'll have real peace because of the sacrifice by Oscar Meyers and the others. "To tell the truth, I'm tired of the bloodshed and killing. I know that each time I stop one of those guys that I'm saving a dozen lives, but it doesn't make it any easier. I'd like it all to stop. Maybe one day I can have a nice quiet retirement somewhere like here." "You really believe that Betsy will be called to serve," Alice said. Penny answered, "I'm fairly confident. Betsy is a warrior. She's strong, fast, smart, and deadly. I don't know what need we'll have for warriors in the future. There's got to be an end to this senseless killing at some point in time. Each year that goes by without her being called to service just confuses me. We could use another warrior now, but she hasn't been called to service." "Has your God told you that she'll be called to service?" Alice asked. "No," Penny answered quietly. She didn't really like to guess what the Gods and the Goddess were going to do, but she could think of no other explanation for Betsy's extreme physicality. They had to be grooming her for some specific service that required someone like Betsy. She could not imagine what situation would require a young woman who could defeat someone whose fighting skills had been given to her by a God. Betsy came charging into the kitchen. She stopped upon seeing Penny and shouted, "You made it here." "Hello, Betsy." "You'll be sleeping in my room tonight," Betsy said. "No. She'll be sleeping in the room I was supposed to use," George said. "No!" Betsy said. She would have stamped her foot, but that was kind of difficult to do when jogging in place. Charlie said, "Don't worry, Betsy. He'll be sleeping with me." "Oh. Are you okay with this, Alice?" Alice nodded her head. "I'm very happy about this." "That's good. I think Charlie would make a great daughter-in law," Betsy said dancing around excitedly. George and Charlie chuckled at the flustered expression on his mother's face. Even Penny looked amused and she hadn't been party to the discussion. Alice said, "I'm sure she'll be a fine daughter-in-law." "I'll ask Charlie to start looking into wedding planners. Oh wait ... that won't do. She's the one getting married. I know, I'll handle it," Betsy said. Thinking this was quickly getting out of hand, Charlie said, "He hasn't proposed yet." "Get on the ball guy!" Betsy said. "I thought Marines were a little more take charge than that." "We need a few more dates," George said. "I can understand that," Betsy said. "I'm going to be training Sally for a little bit. Anyone want to join me?" After everyone politely refused, she said, "Okay. I'll be back." Betsy disappeared into her room to get dressed. Everyone in the kitchen burst out laughing. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 16 Betsy sighed. "What's the matter?" Sally asked. Betsy was doing dumbbell hammer curls with a pair of twenty pound weights. She sped up her repetition rate. "I'm never going to meet a guy," Betsy said. "Yes, you will," Sally said. "I've never had a boyfriend. I'm still a virgin," Betsy said. "Same here," Sally said. Betsy said, "Maybe you are still a virgin, but at least you've got a boyfriend. At least you've been kissed once." "I don't have a boyfriend," Sally said. "What about Steve?" Sally said, "He's just a friend." "He's also a boy," Betsy said. "I know," Sally said. "You're also going out with him two nights a week. He's also stopping by your lab for lunch everyday," Betsy said. "I know." "I'd say that kissing a boy would kind of suggest that you're boyfriend and girlfriend," Betsy said switching over to a dumbbell press. "We've never kissed," Sally said. That wasn't to say that she didn't dream about it. It was seldom she got through a night of sleep without waking up at least once, after a dream involving Steve. More often than not, her dreams went way beyond kissing. She was ready – more than ready. Surprised to learn that, Betsy asked, "Why not?" "I'm scared." Every time Steve got close to her, it was like her feet had a mind of their own, and she was back pedaling like mad. It was pathetic. It was frustrating because she wanted him to kiss her, but she was terrified of being kissed. He could stand next to her with his arm held protectively around her with no problem. The moment they were facing each other with him looking into her eyes, her heart started pounding, and she had an overwhelming desire to flee. "Of what?" Betsy asked. She couldn't imagine being afraid of kissing. She couldn't wait to be kissed. In fact, her fear was that she'd be so enthusiastic that she'd scare the poor guy away. She took comfort in the fact that with her speed she'd be able to catch him before he got too far. Sally answered, "As soon as he gets close enough to kiss me, I back off and change the subject. The other day, I found myself asking for his opinion about the Red Sox. I don't even know what sport the Red Sox are affiliated with. I just blurted out, 'What do you think of the Red Sox?' He just stood there looking at me like I was crazy." "Do you want to kiss him?" "More than anything," Sally answered. "You can't imagine how much." "I can imagine. If I were you, I would've had him on the floor and half of his clothes off the first time he looked at me like he wanted to kiss me," Betsy said. "Oh, come on!" Betsy said, "You know me. I kind of rush into things." "But that's really personal ... you know, intimate," Sally said. "I know," Betsy said. Sally sighed. "At least you have a guy who is interested in you," Betsy said, "There's no guy in the world who could possibly love me." "Why not?" Sally asked. "Can you imagine taking a romantic walk along the beach with me?" Unfortunately, Sally could imagine what would happen with Betsy involved. The guy would end up walking alone while Betsy ran off, and then ran back. There would be no holding hands, intimate stops to gaze into each other's eyes, or taking quiet pauses to appreciate their surroundings. There would be no romantic walks along the beach for Betsy. "No." "Going to a movie theater, holding hands, and sharing a box of popcorn?" Sally knew that Betsy wouldn't be able to sit still in a movie theater seat for two hours. After half an hour, it would be like sitting next to a paint shaker. Betsy would be fidgeting so much that no one would be able to watch the movie. She had to do exercises while riding on the plane. "No." "A romantic meal in a restaurant?" There would be nothing romantic about a meal where Betsy spent her time riding a stationary bike or doing leg lifts with weights around her ankles. That tended to discourage leaning across the table while holding hands and gazing tenderly into her date's eyes. "No." "How about standing face to face gazing lovingly in each other's eyes?" "Standing still?" "Yes." "Nope. I can't see you doing that," Sally said. "There you go," Betsy said. "I'm destined to be an old maid. I'll die at a hundred years old and will never have been kissed." Unfortunately, Sally could actually see that kind of future for Betsy. She couldn't imagine Betsy standing still long enough to get kissed. It would definitely take a very unusual man to live with Betsy. That didn't even take into account the fact that Betsy was rich. Sally wondered how many men might want to take advantage of Betsy in hopes of getting their hands on her money. "You could still do things with a guy." "Like what?" "I don't know. You could play sports with him," Sally suggested. "I'd run three laps around the track for every lap he took. That's a fun date," Betsy said sarcastically. "There's got to be something," Sally said although she couldn't imagine Betsy on any kind of date. "There's nothing," Betsy said and then she sighed. She put down the weights and started performing jumping jacks. Sally watched her wondering what it would be like to go through life moving from one exercise to another without pause. It had to be draining to never be able to sit down and relax. Betsy said, "I don't feel like going out for dinner tonight. I kind of want to be alone. I hope you don't mind." "That's okay," Sally said worried for her friend. Betsy ran out of the lab. She headed directly to where Steve worked in the hopes of finding him. It didn't take her long to get there. She was fortunate to catch him in his office since most of his day up to that point had been filled with meetings. Betsy startled him when she slid into his office. "Hello, Steve." "Hi, Betsy." "I've got a question I want to ask you," Betsy said. "I'll try to answer it." Betsy asked, "Do you want to kiss Sally?" "That's kind of personal," Steve said surprised by the question. Just the thought of kissing Sally was enough to excite him. He woke in the middle of the night after having dreams that went well beyond kissing her. Unfortunately, it seemed to him that she wasn't interested in him in that way. He attributed her reaction to him to that 'I like you just as a friend' thing that women hit nice guys with all of the time. It wouldn't be the first time for him. "Who cares? Just answer the question," Betsy said. "That's between Sally and me," Steve said trying to duck the question. "Do you want to kiss Sally? Yes or no." "Why do you want to know?" Steve asked. Betsy said, "I'll stand here all day until you answer my question." Seeing that Betsy was dancing around, he could hardly call it standing there. However, he knew what she meant. "Sure. I'd like to kiss her," he said trying to sound moderately disinterested. "You want to kiss her a whole lot," Betsy said not fooled for a second by his feigned disinterest. "I'm not comfortable talking about this," Steve said. Betsy said, "If you want to kiss her, you're going to have to be a little more assertive." "She's not interested," Steve said. "Yes, she is." "Let's drop it," Steve said, despite the fact that his heart had suddenly started beating faster. "Next time you are with her, tell her you want to kiss her. Then take her in your arms, and kiss her. If she steps back, like she is definitely going to do, you step forward. Kiss her even if you have to chase her all over the room," Betsy said. "I couldn't do that." Betsy put her hands under her armpits and walked around the room flapping her elbows like wings. She kept squawking and shouting, "Chicken! Chicken!" "I'm not chicken!" "Cluck, cluck, cluck. No one here but us chickens!" Betsy said flapping her arms and stomping around. "Stop it!" "No." "What? Are we in high school or something?" Steve asked staring at Betsy. "No." "I can't hear myself think. Stop it!" "Not until you say that you'll kiss her," Betsy said. "A man does not force himself on a woman!" Steve said emphatically. Betsy stopped impersonating a chicken and returned to jogging in place as she said, "I'm not talking about wrestling her to the floor and raping her! I'm talking about taking her in your arms and kissing her. She's never been kissed and is a little nervous about getting her first kiss." "She's never been kissed?" "That's right," Betsy said. "Kiss her, please." "I'm not sure," Steve said. Betsy said, "Just do it." "I'll..." he started to say, but Betsy had already left the room. "I'll never get used to her doing that," Steve said. He exhaled and then muttered, "She's never been kissed. Wow!" Betsy ran out of the building, hoping that at least Sally would find a little happiness with Steve. She turned onto her regular Parkour route around the campus hoping to burn off some of her frustration with life. It wasn't until her third circuit around the campus that she decided to visit Professor Parrish to discuss her research. The boat was fully functional except for the electronics equipment and he had promised to find someone who could help out with that. She literally danced into Professor Parrish's office. She was dancing, with her feet moving in an intricate pattern, on her toes and kicking up her legs with her arms held in an arch above her head. "Hello, Professor Parrish." "Hi, Betsy. What are you doing?" "A Scottish Sword Dance," Betsy answered despite the fact that there were no swords on the floor. "Why?" "I get bored with running in place, jumping jacks, squats, and hopping around. Sometimes I like to dance. I know all kinds of dances," Betsy answered transitioning to a Scottish Fling, a different traditional dance that was once used to celebrate victory in battle. "I guess that makes sense," Professor Parrish said. He wondered how long it had taken her to learn it. That didn't seem like a dance one picked up in an afternoon. The moves were too intricate. "So you wanted to see me?" "Are you ready to meet Henry?" "I guess so," Betsy said following him out of his office. Professor Parrish said, "I've got to warn you about a few things, before you meet Henry." "What?" Betsy asked. "He claims to be the laziest man alive," Professor Parrish said. "One of us is going to go crazy," Betsy said, "and I doubt it is going to be me." "He's not really that lazy. He's just different," Professor Parrish said. He glanced to his side to gauge her reaction only to find that he was looking at her feet. She was walking on her hands. "Different, that's different," Betsy said. "Yes," Professor Parrish said. "Is he different like I'm different?" Betsy asked. "More or less." "Which is it?" "He hired one of the football players to do things for him." "What kind of things?" Betsy asked. "Anything that requires him to move," Professor Parrish said. "So he's paralyzed," Betsy said. "No. He's lazy." "You just said he wasn't really that lazy." "He isn't." "Make up your mind," Betsy said. She somersaulted down the hallway and back again. "You'll just have to experience him for yourself," Professor Parrish said. "Where are we going?" Betsy asked. "Over to the electrical engineering building." "I'll meet you there," Betsy said taking off. "I wish we could give a little of her energy to Henry," Professor Parrish muttered. Betsy was so surprised upon entering Henry's office that she almost stopped. A rather thin man was kicked back in a chair, oriented sideways to his desk, with his feet up on a stack of boxes. There was a keyboard on his lap. His hands were resting on his stomach. His head was tilted back. He had his eyes closed. Henry said, "Go away." "Henry!" "Oh, it's you." "I brought Betsy Carter over to meet you." Henry's head rolled to the side. One eye opened and he looked at her. "I know her. She's the chick with all the energy," Henry said. "You're in your bathrobe," Betsy said. "I didn't see any reason to change out of it," Henry said. "That makes sense," Professor Parrish said. "It does?" Betsy asked. "You take off the robe, you put on clothes, then you take off the clothes, and put on the bathrobe. I just cut out the middle steps," Henry said and then yawned. "Why even bother with the robe?" Betsy asked. Henry ignored the question. He typed a rapid burst on the keyboard. The single cup coffee maker on his desk started gurgling. "I ran across a sandwich maker, online, the other day. It'll actually make a grilled cheese sandwich for you, with just a simple command on the keyboard. I'm getting one," Henry said. "Maybe I should get one of those," Betsy said. Henry's fingers moved over the keyboard and he said, "I ordered one for you." "Thanks," Betsy said. He rolled his head back to look at the coffeemaker. Noticing what he was looking at, Betsy said, "A watched pot never boils. That's why I don't watch pots. Because I'm not watching them is why they always boil over." "Kind of a Catch 22 there," Henry said. "I'm glad you understand," Betsy said. He grabbed the paper cup from the coffeemaker. Another one dropped into its place. "Hey, that's neat." "I invented it myself," Henry said. "Who built it?" Professor Parrish asked. Henry drank about half of the cup of coffee and placed the coffee cup in a cup holder attached to his chair before answering, "It built itself. I've got a 3D printer over there. I drew it up on the CAD system and then printed it out on the printer. Instant paper cup dispenser for the coffeemaker." Betsy said, "Cool." "So, you want me to design the electronics for your boat?" "That's right," Professor Parrish said. "What do you want? DVRs, cameras, an unmanned submersible and the control station for it, sonars, radars, acoustic buoys with receivers, radios for use underwater," he yawned, "GPSs, radio trackers, hydrophones, acoustic trackers, or all of the above?" "All of the above," Betsy answered. "You'll want a rack with computer equipment, satellite communications and, hell ... I'll throw in the kitchen sink," Henry said. "We've already got a kitchen sink, but I'll take the rest of it," Betsy said. Henry said, "You can't afford all of that." "Yes, I can," Betsy said. "She can," Professor Parrish said. Henry said, "Fine. It'll cost you." "What will it cost me?" Betsy asked. Henry's fingers resumed flying over his keyboard. He paused, yawned, and then resumed typing. Betsy had bunny hopped over to the far side of the room to check out the 3D printer. She'd never seen one before. "I just sent you list of toys I want, in exchange for all of that work you expect me to do. I've also sent you a list of questions that you need to answer, so that I can get equipment that will satisfy your needs. There's nothing worse than buying a bunch of stuff, then finding out it doesn't solve your problem," Henry said. "Okay," Betsy said. "We'll have to talk through some of it. I've got cell, instant messenger, IRC, and video conferencing. Plus, you'll find me here most of the day or night," Henry said. "I'll just hop over and see you," Betsy said having transitioned back to dancing. Henry asked, "Is that the Zulu Reed Dance?" "Yes," Betsy answered. "I thought so. You know that only virgins are supposed to perform that dance. I read that the king is supposed to pick out his youngest wife at the Zulu Reed Dance," Henry said. "I've heard that." "You're supposed to be topless," Henry said. "In your dreams, buddy." "It was worth a try." "You call that a try?" Henry said, "If you really want to burn up some energy, try the Masai jump dance." "I know it," Betsy said transitioning to it. Henry said, "You'd definitely attract a wife." Professor Parrish asked, "How do you know so much about dance, Henry?" "I like to watch videos," Henry answered. "I like to watch a lot of things. I watch dances, videos of explosions, and animals doing weird things. Most of all I like to watch others work, so long as I don't have to do any of it." "Are you still claiming to be the laziest man alive?" "I don't claim that title any more. I got into an argument with some other guy on the net as to which of us was lazier. It was too much work arguing with him, so I let him claim the title," Henry said with a wink at Betsy. Betsy said, "You lost that title the moment you entered the argument. There was definitely someone lazier who didn't even work up the energy to get involved in the discussion." "Good point," Henry said. He reached down and grabbed the cup of coffee out of the cup holder. He finished the rest of it and dropped the cup in the trash can that was tucked under his desk. "So can the two of you work together?" Professor Parrish asked. "Of course we can," Betsy said. "I always enjoy working with graduates of the Druid College." "I didn't think I fooled you." "Not for a moment," Betsy said. "You know him?" "Everyone knows Henry Thibodeaux," Betsy said. "I didn't know he was that famous," Professor Parrish said. "He's the only man alive who fell asleep during one of Ling's martial arts demonstrations," Betsy said. Henry said, "The only reason I'm alive is that I played possum. She figured I was dead already, and there was no need to beat me any more." "That's not how she tells the story," Betsy said. "All right. I woke up long enough to ask her not to kill me." "You begged like a dog," Betsy said. "It might have been like that." Betsy said, "I'll be back." Professor Parrish said, "You'll be able to work with her?" "She's a Carter. They're the easiest people in the world to work with. They tell you exactly what they want. All you have to do, is deliver it." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 17 Sally floated into the condo as if walking on air. Betsy hadn't seen her since the afternoon she had sent Steve over, with instructions that he was to kiss her. She had not been around the condo, her lab, or her apartment, for two days. She hadn't answered her phone during that entire time, either. Betsy took one look at her and said, "I guess you've been kissed." "Yes," Sally said. Sally had been kissed! And, despite her lack of experience, she knew she had been kissed well. He had approached her in her office. She had backed away, as usual, but he just kept coming until he had his arms around her. She had surrendered at that moment, and had wrapped herself around him. After several hours of heavy petting that left both of them wanting more, they headed to Steve's apartment. It was closer to the school than hers. Steve had a lot more control over his emotions than she did. After a little more petting, she was the one ripping clothes off – first his, and then her own. Once in the bedroom, Steve managed to slow her down so that her first time was special. So was the second and third and ... well ... they were all special. For the next two days, they only left the bed to eat. "I'm happy for you," Betsy said. "My first reaction, when Steve told me that you had ordered him to kiss me, was to get angry at you for interfering in something so personal. After he kissed me, I was angry at you for not telling him to do it earlier," Sally said while following Betsy into her bedroom. "I'm really happy for you," Betsy said with an odd flatness to her voice. Sally said, "You don't look happy." "I am happy for you," Betsy said, trying to sound a little more enthusiastic. "I heard you met a guy," Sally said looking over at the suitcase on the bed. "I met the guy who is going to do the electronics for the boat. He's not a potential boyfriend, if that's what you're thinking," Betsy said. "How do you know?" While dumping a couple of shirts into her suitcase, Betsy said, "I'll send you over to his office and let you meet him. You'll understand." "I'm sorry to hear that," Sally said. "What can I say?" Betsy said, while tossing another bra into her luggage. "Where are you going?" Sally asked. "Believe it or not, I'm going to Montreal for a conference on sharks," Betsy said. "Shouldn't a conference on sharks be held someplace near where there are sharks?" Sally asked. "You would think so," Betsy said while dumping a bunch of underwear in her suitcase. Sally said, "You didn't say anything about going there, earlier." "I only found out about it this morning," Betsy said. She wasn't going to say anything about Sally not being around. Even if she had been told earlier, she wouldn't have been able to share the news with Sally until now, anyway. "That's kind of sudden," Sally said. "I know it's kind of sudden, but it couldn't be helped. Professor Parrish had an unexpected case of appendicitis, this morning," Betsy said. "Appendicitis tends to be an unexpected medical condition," Sally said. "I know that. Still, the timing of it is kind of strange." "So what's so strange about it?" Sally asked. "I don't know. It's just that I've been eating more than usual for the past two days," Betsy said. "How much more?" Sally asked. "Yesterday, I had seven hearty-man breakfasts, eight orders of spaghetti for lunch, and three steaks for dinner," Betsy answered. She wasn't going to mention that she had taken naps after each meal. These weren't the five or ten minute naps that she occasionally had as a child after eating, but full one or two hour naps. That bothered her almost as much as the quantity of food. Sally whistled unable to believe her ears. The hearty-man's breakfast at the diner was two eggs, toast, hash browns, bacon, and three flapjacks. Eight orders of spaghetti was ... well ... eight orders of spaghetti. Betsy always ordered the forty-eight ounce porterhouse. That was a massive quantity of food. Betsy said, "So far today I had seven breakfasts, and six Fisherman's Platters for lunch." "I honestly believe that if I tried to eat that much food, it would kill me," Sally said. "They'd find my dead bloated body two steps from the table, if I was even able to move that far." Betsy grabbed a couple of cookies out of a bag and wolfed them down. She noticed the look on Sally's face. She pointed to the two empty cookie bags visible in the trashcan. "I've been hungry all day." Sally studied Betsy for a minute. Her young friend actually looked a little puffy – like she had gained twenty or so pounds in the past few days. It was distributed across her whole body so that her normal muscularity wasn't so obvious. Even with that kind of weight gain, Betsy didn't look fat. There was another thing though that worried Sally more than the her friend's unusual weight gain. Betsy was moving a lot slower than usual. An average person would seem to be rushing about; but for Betsy, particularly of late, she looked sluggish. She was still jumping around, but the height was about half normal, and the frequency was about a quarter normal. "You're moving slower," Sally said. "I know," Betsy admitted with a slightly worried look on her face. "You look worried," Sally said. Betsy asked, "Do you remember a couple of weeks ago, wondering if I had sped up, lately?" "Yes," Sally said. Betsy had told her that she was going to check her speed against her Olympic records. She hadn't mentioned anything about what she had learned. Of course, that didn't surprise Sally, as Betsy tended to be a little scatterbrained about some things. "I improved almost all of my times by about ten percent." Even Sally knew that Olympic records changed by fractions of a second up to a few seconds. They didn't get ten percent lopped off of them. "That's amazing." "Last weekend, I beat my records by fifteen percent," Betsy said. "Are you sure you measured it correctly?" Sally asked. That was just a bit too much to be believed. A lot of the sporting world believed that Betsy's performance at the Olympics was at the very edge of what a human body was capable of doing. It was not a matter of muscularity, but of physics. Shaving fifteen percent off her times placed her well beyond what anyone thought was humanly possible! "Yesterday it took me twice as long to complete each of the events, and I feel even slower, today," Betsy said. "Twice your records, or twice your most recent times?" Sally asked. "Twice my records." "Are you running a fever or anything?" Sally asked. "No. I have never been sick a day of my life," Betsy said. "Not even the flu?" Sally asked. "Nothing," Betsy said. "That's weird." Betsy said, "My brother William was the same way. We were never ill. It's kind of funny. He's the brain in the family, and I'm the brawn." "I remember your brother," Sally said. While his family called him William, in her mind she could only think of him as William Redman Carter. William was just too simple of a name for such a complex person. He had made a lasting impression on Sally. There was just an intensity about him that was somewhat frightening. When he turned his attention on her, she knew that she had his full attention. It was almost sexual. She had a feeling that if Steve hadn't been there, she would have found herself reacting to him in a flirtatious manner. Sally was silent while watching Betsy finish packing. She looked at the suitcase and grimaced. There were some things which really bothered her, and sloppy packing was one of them. Betsy had just thrown her clothes into it. Nothing would arrive without being wrinkled. "Let me repack your suitcase. Everything is going to get wrinkled. You'll look like a beggar at the conference," Sally said. Betsy looked at her suitcase and said, "Maybe you should." Sally took everything out of the suitcase and then neatly folded each item before putting it back. She actually organized the clothes within the suitcase with socks in one stack, panties in another, sports bras in a third, tee shirts in a fourth, and pants in a fifth. Betsy would be able to dress by taking one layer out of the suitcase at a time. Impressed, Betsy said, "I've never seen anyone pack a suitcase like that." "I'm kind of anal about things like that," Sally admitted. "Let's go to dinner. I'm hungry." "Okay," Sally said with a worried frown, as it was early to be going to dinner. "I know it's a little early; but I've got to return here after dinner to get my suitcase, and then get over to the airport," Betsy said. Relaxing a little, Sally said, "That makes sense." Sally's normal mode of transportation on the island was a little electric scooter she had purchased, used, upon her arrival. It was an eminently practical vehicle for her purposes. It was small enough that it was allowed on the bicycle paths. She was able to make little short cuts where a car wouldn't be allowed. It was fast enough to reach most local destinations in good time; and, it cost absolutely nothing to operate. Whenever they went somewhere together, she would ride to their destination, and meet up with Betsy somewhere along the route. It wasn't that Betsy ran faster than her scooter. In fact, the opposite was true. The scooter was just a little faster than Betsy. It was just that she didn't have the patience to wait while Sally unlocked it from the bicycle stand, put on her helmet, and got on it. When she was already on her scooter, Betsy would run along beside her chattering away like a magpie. Today, Betsy kind of jogged in place while Sally prepared for the ride. This was just another example of unusual behavior. They hadn't gone a hundred yards before Betsy asked, "Can you slow down a little more?" "Sure," Sally said glancing at the speedometer on her scooter. They were already moving slower than normal. She cut back the speed until Betsy was running along beside her. The young woman wasn't very talkative this trip. It was just another thing that concerned Sally. They eventually reached the Italian place that Betsy preferred. The restaurant did not have a private room for Betsy, but they did have a special table. It was set in one of the corners of the dining area, and had extra room around it to accommodate individuals in wheelchairs. They always seated Betsy at that table, except when there was a customer who needed it. This allowed her to do her little exercises without being too obvious to the other guests. Today was no exception, and they were seated in the corner. The owner showed up at the table, happy to see Betsy. Betsy always received preferential treatment. Not only was she was a regular customer, but her orders were always large, and she left a good tip. The owner was surprised when Betsy greeted him with, "I'll start with two Lasagne dinners, two Fettuccine Alfredo dinners, and two spaghetti with meatballs dinners, and six glasses of milk." "Okay," he said knowing that he was to space out the delivery of each meal by about ten minutes. "You'll start with that?" Sally asked. "I'm very hungry," Betsy said a little embarrassed. Turning to the owner, Sally said, "I'll take the Ravioli, with iced tea." "I'll bring your orders right out," the owner said. Once the food was delivered, Sally watched Betsy pack away an amazing amount of food. Conscious of her figure, she only ate half of the Ravioli on her plate. She wasn't surprised when Betsy finished her meal for her. She was shocked when Betsy ordered two more Lasagne dinners. Even the owner stuttered when repeating the order back. They returned to Betsy's condo at a slower speed than they had gone to the restaurant. Sally rode beside a very quiet Betsy getting increasingly more worried. They reached the condo to find that the limousine Betsy had requested, was already waiting for her. Betsy ran upstairs and fetched her suitcase while Sally waited below. Betsy came out carrying her suitcase. She was using it for a one armed, dumbbell hammer curl. Sally watched, dismayed at the lack of energy in the exercise. She did notice that Betsy was still wearing her ankle weights. "Why don't you ride to the airport with me?" "Are you sure?" "I could use the company," Betsy said. Worried for her friend, Sally agreed. The two rode in the backseat of the limousine to the hanger where the jet was waiting. While riding across town, Betsy asked for details about Sally's missing two days. Sally spent most of the trip stuttering, stammering, and using euphemisms for the activities in which she had engaged in, with Steve. She was making such obscure references, that Betsy couldn't quite tell what had happened. When they reached the hanger, Betsy got out of the car. She hugged Sally and then started towards the airplane. Sally asked, "Where's Gary?" Betsy turned around and answered, "He's at home." "He knows you're going to Montreal, doesn't he?" "He's got a date with Karen, tomorrow night, so I figured I'd just go there," Betsy said. "Does anyone else know you're going there?" Sally asked getting very worried. "Just you and Professor Parrish." "You didn't tell Charlie?" Sally asked wide-eyed. "I didn't want to bother her with that. She was on a date with George all day," Betsy said. "You can't..." "I better get going. I'll be back in a week," Betsy said, running to the plane. Sally pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number on it. She waited for an answer knowing that the time difference would make it pretty late in the evening. Much to her surprise, it was answered after the first ring. She said, "I'm Sally Tilton. I'm a friend of Betsy Carter. I'm trying to get in touch with Ed Biggers." The jet was leaving the hanger. The noise made it difficult to hear. She got into the limousine and closed the door. "Hello?" "Hello, Ed. This is Sally Tilton. I'm a friend of Betsy." "I remember you," Ed said. "I'm worried about Betsy," Sally said. "What's the matter?" Ed asked. His voice had just turned very serious. "She just got on a jet to Montreal, without telling anyone where she was going," Sally answered. "I'm sure her staff knows," Ed said relaxing a little. Sally said, "She didn't tell them. She left without Gary or Stacy." "Are you telling me that her staff doesn't know?" "That's right. That's not all," Sally said. She knew that anyone else other than family or staff wouldn't believe her or understand her concerns. If she talked to anyone in authority they'd laugh at her for saying that she was worried because someone was eating too much food and wasn't moving as fast as usual. "What else?" "She's not acting like herself. She's been eating a ton of food, lately, and she's slowing down." "What do you mean she's slowing down?" Ed asked. "She's moving slower. We went to dinner and she ran alongside my scooter. We were only doing seven miles an hour because she asked me not to go any faster. Usually, we're up around fourteen," Sally said. "Where are you?" Sally answered, "I'm at the airport. I'm in the limousine she hired to bring her here. I'm watching her jet taxi out to the runway." "Did you tell Gary, yet?" Sally answered, "No. I called you first. I figured you're a Druid and might be able to do something to keep the jet from taking off." There was a long moment of silence while Ed considered the situation. He felt that she had probably made the best decision possible under the circumstance. Finally, he said, "I thank you for your confidence in me, but I don't think anyone could stop her now." "Ed, I'm really worried about her." "I know. I'll see if I can get her on her cell phone. I'll call you back and let you know what I've found out," Ed said. "Thanks." "I'd appreciate it if you'd call Gary and tell him to get his ass to Montreal on the first available flight," Ed said. "It wasn't his fault," Sally said. "I know. Just tell him to get there," Ed said. Sally hung up and called the number to Betsy's house. It appeared that Charlie was still on her date with George since it was Alice who answered the phone. "Hello, Alice. This is Sally." "Hi, Sally. Betsy's not here." "I know. I need to talk to Gary," Sally said. "Hold on. I'll get him," Alice said. Sally watched the jet take off with tears in her eyes. Something was wrong, seriously wrong, and she didn't know what to do to prevent it. She wondered if Betsy had been poisoned somehow. Ivan was still in jail, but the man had a long reach. He was the kind of man who would want Betsy dead no matter what it took or how much it cost. Gary answered, "Hi, Sally." "Betsy is on her way to Montreal," Sally blurted out. "What!" "She's on a jet headed to Montreal." "Are you sure?" "I'm at the airport. I just watched the jet take off." "Oh, shit! Ling is going to kill me." "Ed Biggers says that you're to get on the first plane to Montreal," Sally said. "Where is she going in Montreal?" "She said she's going to a shark conference." "A shark conference in Montreal? Did you actually believe that?" "I questioned her, but she said it was being held there," Sally said. "I'll make arrangements to get there. I'll call you when I know more," Gary said. "Thanks, Gary." After she hung up the phone, she told the driver to take her back to Betsy's condo. Her scooter was there. She figured she'd pick it up, and head back to her apartment. After thinking about it for a minute, she decided she'd head over to Steve's apartment. Maybe he could reassure her that it would all be okay. She almost jumped out of her seat when her cell phone rang. She answered it, to find Ed on the telephone. "I meant to ask, why is she going to Montreal?" "She's going to a shark conference," Sally answered. "In Montreal?" Ed knew that she was telling the truth as far as she knew it. Still, the question was almost automatic. The answer was just so unlikely that he had to ask if only to clarify it in his own mind. "Yes." "Shouldn't a shark conference be held someplace where they have sharks?" Ed asked. "I asked her exactly the same question. She just said that is where they were having it," Sally answered. "When did she learn about this trip?" Ed asked. "She told me Professor Parrish had appendicitis this morning, and that he had asked that she go in his place," Sally said. "He had a sudden attack of appendicitis," Ed repeated. "Appendicitis tends to be unexpected and sudden." "You're right. I'll call you when I know more." "Thanks." By the time Sally reached Betsy's condo, she had learned from Ed that Professor Parrish really did have appendicitis. His appendix had been removed that afternoon. She was also told that there was indeed a shark conference in Montreal, and that Betsy had been asked to fill in for the professor. She had learned from Gary that he and his sister, Stacy, were leaving for Montreal on a six o'clock flight, he was personally going to spank Betsy's butt, and that he was busy writing his last will and testament in case Ling showed up. She would have laughed except Gary sounded completely serious. Sally rode off on her scooter heading for Steve's apartment. Betsy had climbed into the jet, gotten into her seat, and promptly fallen asleep. The crew, used to traveling with an over energetic Betsy, tip-toed around her in the hope she wouldn't awaken. They were looking forward to a quiet trip, for a change. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 18 Betsy watched a tree remove the wing from her side of the jet, thinking that this had to be the trip from hell. The jet made another spine wrenching jog when another tree removed the wing from the other side of the aircraft. There was a jolt, then the jet came to an abrupt stop, and then the world went black. Unable to guess how long she had been unconscious, Betsy woke with a start. She glanced around the little commuter jet that was supposed to have taken her and ten other passengers from Winnipeg to Montreal. The interior of the jet was completely trashed. Seats had come loose and flown toward the front of the plane in the midst of the crash. It wasn't until she turned to face the rear that she realized the last ten feet of the aircraft was gone, as were the three people who had been seated there. She unbuckled her seat belt, and stood up. She made her way around the cabin checking out people. The stewardess was in a heap on the floor, her neck in an odd position. There was a woman who was groaning, but appeared to be in one piece. Her son was unconscious, beside her. The seat assembly on which two businessmen had been seated had come loose. Their legs were definitely broken. She found another passenger buried under a seat that had flown through the cabin. He was alive, but was pretty torn up. An elderly couple was shaken up, but appeared to be okay. She headed up to the front cabin to check on the pilots. It took all of her strength to pry open the door. She stuck her head in, afraid of what she would find. One pilot had a large branch sticking through him. If he wasn't dead, then he wouldn't be alive for much longer. The other pilot was groaning. She didn't see any blood spurting out, so she figured that she had better treat some of the other passengers first. She rummaged around the front of the plane until she located the first aid kit. She opened it and shook her head. It wasn't good for much beyond simple cuts. There was one small roll of bandage, a bunch of band aids, a burn cream, and an antiseptic cream. She went back to the passenger who was buried under a seat. He was bleeding, but it wasn't an arterial cut. It didn't look that bad. She patched him up the best she could, and left him there. The elderly man staggered up to where Betsy was studying the two men trapped in their seats. He looked at them, and shook his head, knowing they were in pretty bad shape. He asked, "Do you think we have to worry about fire?" "No. The wings are gone, as well as the fuel they held. The fumes are not very strong, so I think we're safe for the moment," Betsy answered. "I don't really know what to do, but my wife and I will help you in any way we can," the man said. "Could you go over to that man over there, and put some pressure on his cut? It would be great if your wife could take care of the woman and the kid up front. I'm going to have to figure out if I should move the seat or if I should leave it there." "Sure," the elderly man said. Betsy could see bones poking through the pants of the two men. It looked like their knees may have been smashed, too. One of the men had a bloody nose. It looked like his nose had hit the back of the seat in front of him. The other one had a huge bruise in the middle of his forehead. She hoped that neither man had a neck injury. Betsy decided that it would be best to leave them where they were, until they regained consciousness. She wasn't going to move them in case they had neck injuries. She went over to the elderly man. "I'm going to leave them there. I don't know if they have neck injuries, or not." "That's probably a good idea." Betsy said, "Would you watch over these folks? I'd like to see what happened to the folks in the back of the plane." "Go ahead," the man said. The tail of the plane was fifty yards away from the front of the plane. The people inside were obviously dead. Betsy looked away, saddened by the loss of life. She circled around the tail and spotted a line of luggage along the path the plane had plowed through the trees. "Bandage material!" She grabbed four suitcases and headed back to the plane. She made another round trip to bring back another three suitcases, one of which was hers. She opened up her suitcase, and looked at the clothes. The neat packing job Sally had done had been destroyed by the crash. She dug through, and found two tee shirts. She returned to the elderly man and said, "The others are dead. I found some suitcases though. We can use the contents to survive this thing." "Did you find a medium size blue suit case?" "Yes." "Thank God!" "Why?" "My wife's medicines are in it," he said. The man on the floor groaned and then opened his eyes. "What happened?" "We crashed," Betsy answered. "I hurt everywhere," the man said. Betsy said, "Save your complaints for the lawyers. Until then, we've got to survive." He glared at her. "I hurt." "You're alive, which is something that five other people who were on the plane can't say. Can you get up?" Betsy asked. The man sat up. It was obvious that he was in significant pain. The short little yelp when he tried to straighten couldn't have been faked. He did manage to make it to his feet. "I'm up." "Can you make it outside?" Betsy asked. "I'll try." The man slowly made his way out the back of the plane. He was walking a little crooked. The elderly man asked, "Did he injure his back?" "I don't think so. I think he pulled a couple of muscles. I've seen folks in tournaments walk that same way when they landed incorrectly," Betsy answered. "Okay." "Let's see if we can get your wife and the other two out the back of the plane," Betsy said. "Why are you trying to get everyone out of the plane? Shouldn't we stay in it?" Betsy said, "We've got two guys over there, and the pilot to deal with. I've got a feeling there's going to be a bit of blood and screams. We don't need a crowd in here, getting squeamish, or in our way." "You're right," the man said. "Why don't you deal with your wife. I'll check on the pilot?' "Okay." Betsy made her way into the cabin. The pilot was awake, and much more alert than she had expected. When she approached, he said, "Don't move me." "Why?" "I'm pretty sure my back is broken," the pilot answered. "How do you know?" "I can move my arms and head, but I can't feel anything below my waist." "You're probably right. Are you in pain?" "I've felt better. How many survived the crash?" "Nine, including me and you." "There were fourteen on board." "I know. What caused the crash?" Betsy asked. "We lost power. Everything just went out. Engines, radio, and ... well ... everything. This is a fly by wire jet. When we lost electricity, we couldn't steer the plane. We just dropped from the sky." "That's bad." "You aren't just whistling Dixie. We couldn't radio in our position, I think the transponder went out, and we might not have even been on radar for as long as two minutes. They aren't going to be able to find us. Their search area is going to be two thousand square miles." "You're just full of good news, aren't you?" Betsy said with a smile. "I do have some good news. I've got a map here and I'm pretty sure that you can use the GPS in your cell phone to locate where we are." "So we just fix the radio and call in our location," Betsy said before looking at the instrument panel. "Let me guess. The box with a branch sticking through half of it is the radio." "That's right." "Any chance of cell coverage?" Betsy asked while pulling out her cell phone. "We're in the middle of nowhere." Betsy frowned. "It will take my Dad at least a day to find out I'm missing. It could be the next day before he learns that I was on a plane that crashed. He'll call Annette, and she'll find us. The earliest we can expect to be found is in a day or maybe two." "Some woman will find us? How?" "Annette will find us. She's a Druid gifted with far-seeing." The pilot laughed. "Your Dad can just call up a Druid to look for you. That's rich!" "My Dad is a Druid," Betsy replied. "Hmmm, then I guess he can call up a Druid for a little help." "Where's the map?" "There's a big black case next to me. It's got a lot of maps in it. You'll have to look through it." Betsy found the bag he described. It took her a few minutes to locate the map that covered the coordinates she'd gotten from her cell phone. She looked over the map carefully. "It's not too bad," Betsy said. "What do you mean?" Betsy said, "There's a highway about twenty-five miles south of us. The nearest town appears to be thirty-five miles east of us. I could probably reach the highway in about six hours. I could reach the town in about eight hours." "I think it would take you a bit longer than that. This is rugged country. It could take you two or three days." "I do Parkour. I love running through rough country," Betsy said with a smile. "That's that weird obstacle course running thing, isn't it?" "That's as good of a description of it as any," Betsy said. "It's going to be dark before you know it, so you aren't going anywhere, today." "I've got a couple of people to patch up in the back," Betsy said. "Go ahead. You aren't going to be able to help me." Betsy said, "I'll be back." She found the two men in the chair in a semi-conscious state. From the way they were moving their hands it was obvious their necks weren't broken. Still, it didn't mean they were going to be moving anywhere any time soon. Betsy went out the back of the plane. She paced around in front of the others. Realizing that she didn't want to have to refer to everyone as 'Hey you' she decided now would be a good time to exchange names. "Hello, everyone. I'm Betsy. Who are you?" "I'm Cal," said the man who had pulled the muscle in his back. "I'm Sharon, and this is my son, Jimmy." "I'm Melvin." "I'm his wife, Millie." "It's very nice to meet all of you," Betsy said. Millie asked, "How bad is our situation?" "It's not that bad," Betsy said. "What in the hell do you mean? It's not that bad! We crashed in the middle of nowhere. We're going to die out here," Cal said. The young boy, probably about nine years of age, shook his head in disgust. His mother put a hand on his back, to keep his from saying something rude. Betsy said, "The pilot is alive, and quite alert, but he broke his back. I talked with him and we determined that we're twenty-five miles from a highway, and thirty-five miles from a town. Unfortunately, they are in different directions." Cal said, "So we radio it in and they come get us." "The radio is busted." "We use a cell phone." "No signal." "So where does that leave us?" Betsy said, "It leaves us taking care of three seriously injured people for the next couple of days." "We'll starve," Cal said. "We won't starve," Betsy said. "I can always catch something." Jimmy said, "In cub scouts, they told us you have to take care of the essentials. Food, water, and shelter. It's going to get cold tonight so we probably ought to build a fire." "You are so right, Jimmy," Betsy said. "I'll fetch some firewood. Why don't you and Cal see what you can do about making a fire pit?" "I can do that," Jimmy said pleased to be assigned a meaningful task that would help the situation. Cal asked, "Who put you in charge?" "I did," Betsy answered. "Why should you be in charge?" Betsy said, "Well, it's like this: I'm the strongest, fastest, and healthiest one among us." "I should be in charge," Cal said. "Really?" Betsy asked in disgust. Jimmy said, "Actually, she should be in charge. She's the only one of us who's actually done something constructive. She patched you up. She's found out where we are. She's made a pretty good assessment of the situation. She found our luggage. She's organized us. All I've heard from you are complaints and dire predictions." "I couldn't agree with you more, Jimmy," Melvin said. Millie said, "The young man is right." "Are you two senile? Are you really going to listen to a stupid young kid and follow some airhead woman?" Cal said. Millie said, "You don't get to be our age by following idiots." Ignoring him, Betsy said, "Melvin and Millie, why don't you go back in the plane and see what we have in the way of food and water?" "We can do that," Melvin said. "Sharon, could you watch over our injured for a bit?" "Sure, but I don't know much about first aid," Sharon answered. "We aren't touching them until we find out how bad they're injured. If they wake up, just talk to them," Betsy said. "I can do that," Sharon said. It only took Betsy a few minutes to collect a decent pile of wood. The plane had taken out a lot of branches during the crash. Most were pretty green, but they'd burn a long time once they caught fire. There were a few branches that were deadwood that could be used to get the fire started. She stood where Jimmy was building a fire pit. Cal was sulking and making rude comments about what kind of a job the young boy was doing. Deciding that a little demonstration was overdue, Betsy stood by the pile of wood. She then proceeded to break each branch into two foot long sections using her bare hands. Some of the bigger branches, three and four inches in diameter, made a very loud crack when she snapped off a piece that was two feet long. Jimmy said, "You're pretty strong." "I'm very strong." "That wood is damaged," Cal said. It didn't take her long to render that wild tangle of branches into a neat pile of logs. She went over to the airplane and grabbed a bit of the metal skin. She tore a chunk off and folded it in half. She folded one end of it in half again. "What are you doing?" Jimmy asked. "I'm making knife. You can use a knife for a lot of things. You can cut branches that are stuck in awkward places. You can butcher an animal. You can make tools, like a crutch for your mother." "You noticed that she hurt her leg," Jimmy said. "That's why I asked her two watch the two guys. She can sit down and not have to be too active," Betsy said. Then she added, "I'll be right back." She jogged down the path of destruction, looking for a branch that would be good for use as a crutch. It took her a little while, but she found one. She trimmed the rough ends of the part that would go under Sharon's arm. She also took a little time to shape it. She then wrapped it with a couple of shirts from one of the pieces of luggage, so that it wouldn't rub. Going inside the plane, she handed the crutch to Sharon and said, "This should help you." "Thank you," Sharon said. Betsy said, "You have my permission to use it on Cal if he makes another nasty comments to Jimmy." "Jimmy's a little different," Sharon said. "It seems to me that he has an affinity for the Goddess." Sharon stared at Betsy open mouthed. She wasn't going to say anything about her son's insistence that the Gods and Goddess were taking a great deal of interest in them. Betsy held out her hand, and touched Sharon on the belly. She smiled. "You're expecting. I'll bet you must be excited." "How did you know?" Sharon asked. She had only taken the pregnancy test a couple of days ago after being late with her period by two weeks. In fact, it was the positive result on the test that had prompted this trip. "She's got the energy of my brother William. When you've been around him for a while, you can sense when he's near. Your daughter reminds me of him." "My daughter?" "Yes. If she's at all like my brother, she's destined for greatness," Betsy said. She leaned forward and said, "Don't worry, little one. I'll protect you from anyone and anything." "Thank you," Sharon said. "Your daughter also reminds me of my brother John, and my sister Beth," Betsy said. She paused with an expression of deep thought and then burst out, "It can't be? It could! That's would be ... Wow!" "What?" "It's nothing," Betsy said. "What?" Betsy said, "I've work to do. We can't stand here and gossip all day." "You haven't stood still a second ever since we crashed," Sharon muttered. Betsy went over to the elderly couple and asked, "What have you found?" "Twenty-four cans of mixed soft drinks, a large bottle of orange juice, a bottle of milk, a box of little bottles containing a variety of alcoholic beverages. and a large bag of peanuts," Melvin answered. "We've got a container of water, a coffeemaker, and coffee. We can't make any coffee because there's no power," Millie said. Betsy leaned down to the stewardess and searched her clothes. She stood up holding a cell phone. She stepped into the cabin and asked the pilot, "Did your copilot have a cell phone?" "He did." "I need it." "Take it." "Thanks," Betsy said before searching through the copilots pockets. "I'll be back a little later to remove the branch." "How are you going to do that?" "I made a knife. I'll use it to cut through the branch that's holding him there," Betsy answered. "That would be nice." She stepped out of the cabin and held up the two cell phones. "We have electricity." "Those are cell phones." Betsy opened up the cell phones and took out the fusion cells. She opened up the base of the coffeemaker and pulled out a couple of wires. She wired the batteries in series, and connected with the coffeemaker. The light came on, on the machine. Betsy said, "This particular jet runs off of a twenty-four volt DC power system. The cell phones run off twelve volt DC fusion cells. You put two of them together in series, and you get twenty-four volts." "I didn't know that," Millie said. "It's one of those weird facts you pick up when you get bored flying on airplanes, and the whole flight crew is supposed to take care of you," Betsy said. "Would you like some coffee?" Millie asked. "Did you find any tea or hot chocolate?" "Actually, I found both of them." "I'll take a little tea. I'm pretty sure that Sharon would enjoy some milk and Jimmy will take some hot chocolate," Betsy said. "She'd probably prefer coffee." "She's pregnant and is drinking milk," Betsy declared. "I didn't know. You're right," Millie said. Betsy knelt down and examined the stewardess. If they were going to be staying inside the jet, then they didn't want to share it with a corpse. She put the knife on the floor before picking up the body of the stewardess to remove it. Melvin asked, "Do you need a hand with that?" "I've got it," Betsy said. She carried the body out of the plane, wondering where she was going to take it. She headed to the rear section of the plane that had broken off. She gently laid the body in the rear of the plane next to the bodies that were already there. She returned to the plane. After grabbing the knife, she went into the cabin. "Hello." "You're back." "We never introduced ourselves. I'm Betsy." "I'm Ben." "Well, Ben. I'm going to try to get our friend out of here. You might not want to watch," Betsy said. "I'm not a Nervous Nelly," Ben said. Betsy started whacking the branch with the knife she had made. It wasn't very strong, but she was careful to hit the branch with the knife exactly orthogonal to it. Very small chips flew off of it. She sped up, and pretty soon her hands were a blur. "That's incredible," Ben said. "Not for me," Betsy said. The branch slowly disappeared under her relentless attack on it. Betsy said, "I wasn't supposed to be on this plane. I was flying from Hawaii to Montreal on a chartered jet. It had engine trouble ... something about a turbine coming apart in the number one engine. Not wanting to fly on one engine, the pilot landed in Winnipeg. Since it was going to take some time to fix it, I purchased a ticket on your plane." The pilot said, "Did you come through Seattle?" "Yes. We stopped there for fuel," Betsy said. "I guess he decided to take the northern route. It's not the most direct route, but he would have avoided that massive storm system over the northern United States. I heard the turbulence is even tossing the big jets around," Ben said. "That's what he said." "The storm is pretty bad. Half of the planes are grounded," Ben said. "Yeah." "I think I'm pretty lucky that you were on this plane," Ben said. "We've got a pretty motley crew out there. An elderly couple, a pregnant woman and her son, a guy whose attitude is pretty bad, and two guys trapped in their seats," Betsy said. Betsy finally managed to cut through the branch. The knife wasn't going to be of much use after the abuse it had taken. With her left hand coming up and her right hand coming down, she broke off the section of branch between the window of the plane and where she had cut it. It came apart with a loud snap. "Whoa! Did you hurt yourself?" "No. My mom taught me how to do that when I was a little girl. Of course, that was with four by fours," Betsy said. Wryly, Ben said, "That's a handy thing for mother to pass down to daughter." "I think so," Betsy said cheerfully. "I was being facetious," Ben said. "I know," Betsy said. "The branch splintered after getting through the chair. I'm going to lift him out along with branch." "Be careful. There's not much room in here. I figure the less I get joggled the better off I'll be," Ben said. "My other mom should be able to fix you right up," Betsy said. "My back is broken." Betsy said, "When I was little I ran out in front of a car. Daddy Dan ran out to push me out of the way. He wasn't my Daddy at the time and didn't know that I could move out of the way without a problem. The car hit him and he was in a lot worse shape than you. Mommy Kelly fixed him up right there in the middle of the street. I was really in trouble for doing that." "She fixed him up in the middle of the street?" Ben asked. "Yes." "This is the woman who taught you to break branches like that?" "No. That was Mommy Ling," Betsy answered while pushing the branch out of the seat from the rear. "You have two mothers?" "No. I have four mothers and four fathers," Betsy said. "That's a typical family," Ben said. "You're being facetious again," Betsy said finally managing to get the other pilot unpinned from the chair. "Yes. Betsy said, "I'm going to get him out of here. I'll be right back." Betsy pulled the body over the rear of the seat, adjusted her hold on him, and then carried him out of the plane. She went to the rear section, and placed the body next to the other three, and the stewardess. She stood there in the rear section for a second with her head bowed. "I should say something over your bodies, but I don't know your beliefs. Oh well, I guess I can wing it," she said. "Fare thee well, and may the Powers That Be watch over your spirits." Betsy stepped out of the plane. She then struggled to bend the open section of the plane closed, to keep animals from disturbing the bodies. It was difficult, and there was still a gap; but she figured it would keep out just about everything, except the birds. She'd come back later and throw something over the hole to close it off. She looked down at her shirt. There was surprisingly little blood on it, though there was some on her hands. She took her shirt off and wiped her hands clean on it. She'd use a little water to clean up better, once she went back to the plane. Topless, she returned to the plane. She paused at her luggage and pulled out another shirt. She noticed that Cal was leering at her. Then she noticed that Jimmy was looking at her open-mouthed. Sharon looked uncomfortable with the whole situation. "It's just a body. There are some that are better looking and others that are worse looking, but in the end ... it's just a body. Jimmy, you have one, your mother has one, and I have one," Betsy said. Jimmy said, "I've never seen a woman undressed like that, before." "You should come by my place. You'd see lots of people like that." Disgusted, Cal said, "We've got a whore in charge." "No, we don't. You've got the daughter of warriors and Druids in charge," Betsy said glaring at Cal. "Fuck that," Cal said. Betsy moved so fast that no one could follow her. Cal, with a look of horror on his face, found he was on the ground! He was staring up at her fist which was an inch away from his face. He had never seen anyone move like that. "I'm tired of your attitude. Shape up or I'll ship you out ... permanently. Am I clear?" Betsy asked. "Crystal." Betsy said, "You are going to get off your ass, go in the plane, relieve Melvin and Millie, and watch over the two men who are still trapped in their chairs." "Yes." "Go," Betsy said while getting off of him. Once Cal had disappeared into the plane, Jimmy said, "We've got two people trapped in a plane, my mother, me, you, and him. I think he's the biggest threat to our survival." Betsy said, "No, I'd take care of him before that happened. Nothing and no one is going to jeopardize your little sister's life." "I believe you," Sharon said. Betsy said, "You didn't start the fire." "No matches," Jimmy said, "and Cal wasn't helping." "No problem," Betsy said, grabbing two of the older pieces of wood. She started rubbing the branches together at a phenomenal rate. It wasn't long before the branches were smoking. She blew on them, and one burst into flames. She lit her old shirt with the brand, and used the brand and the shirt to set fire to the wood in the fire pit. "There we go," Betsy said with a smile. "Man's oldest friend: fire." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 19 Betsy turned on her cell phone, and set it down on the instrument panel. The light, although not very bright, managed to displace the overwhelming and depressing darkness inside the cabin. She looked over at Ben and saw that he was looking a little pale. "Is that better?" Betsy asked. "It's much better," Ben said. "Good. I got Sharon's cell phone next to the two guys who are trapped in the back," Betsy said. "How are they?" "They keep drifting in and out of consciousness. They aren't awake long enough to tell me just how bad their injuries are," Betsy said. "That's bad." "I'm worried about them. I fear that they won't survive if we don't get rescued soon," Betsy said. She wasn't all that worried about the injuries that she could see. They were concussed, but she didn't have anything on hand to help them. It was the ones that she couldn't see that worried her. Was there internal bleeding? Did they have spinal injuries? Were there fractured bones? Did they have brain injuries? She didn't know and, even if she had known, there wasn't much she could do for any of them except minimize additional chances of injuries. "I'm sure that you're doing everything you can to help them," Ben said. "I wish I could do more," Betsy said looking worried. "You've done everything you can." Betsy said, "I was thinking that if I left here at dawn, I could probably reach town about noon depending on the terrain between here and there. Once there, I'd let everyone know where the plane is. I'd grab a couple of chainsaws and come back here to clear out some space for helicopters to land. We should probably be able to get some help back here by ten tomorrow night." "I think you're being a little overly optimistic," Ben said. Betsy laughed. "I don't. It's almost like I've been in training for this my whole life. I can run faster and further than any human on the planet. I've been running parkour for five years. Water won't stop me. I can swim farther and faster than anyone. I'll get there and back tomorrow." "Why do I believe you?" Ben said. "Because you're smart," Betsy said. "I appreciate you coming in here and talking to me," Ben said. "I'm going to send Jimmy in here for a bit. He needs to be doing something other then sitting around getting worried," Betsy said. The air had a bit of nip in it. She took a moment to adjust the two lightweight little aircraft blankets over him. They weren't much, but hopefully they'd keep him from freezing during the night. Everyone else was going to be wearing multiple layers of clothes from their luggage, in addition to using the blankets. Ben and the two injured men were at the greatest risk of hypothermia. "That's a good idea," Ben said. "I'd enjoy the company." "Hold on. I'll be right back," Betsy said. She returned after a minute with two cans of soda and two packages of peanuts. Handing the soda and peanuts to him, she said, "I wish we had more food, but the peanuts will stave off your hunger. The sodas will keep you hydrated. The sugar in them won't hurt." "Thanks," Ben said. "I'll send Jimmy in, now," Betsy said. She made her way through the darkened body of the plane. The footing was treacherous since debris was scattered all over the place. She'd have to lead Jimmy back into the plane. She paused by where Millie was watching over the two men. "Any change?" Betsy asked. "Jake was awake long enough to tell me his name. The guy next to him is his brother John." "That's an improvement, I guess," Betsy said. "He was in a lot of pain," Millie said. Betsy said, "I'll sit here for a bit. Why don't you send Jimmy in? I'd like him to spend a little time talking to the pilot." "Sure," Millie said. Millie carefully made her way out of the plane. She had to go through the side door. Earlier, Betsy had ripped out a bunch of the seats and piled them across the opening at the rear of the plane. She had ripped out a hundred feet of the wiring and used it to secure the chairs in place. Nothing of any substantial size was going to get through that. A few minutes later, Jimmy gingerly entered the plane. He stood there to let his eyes get used to the dark. "Hey, Jimmy." "Hi, Betsy." "I'd like you to go into the cabin and talk to Ben. He's the pilot." "What do you want me to talk to him about?" Betsy smiled. "He's hurt and scared. I think he just needs to see friendly face. You can ask him about how he became a pilot. The more you keep the subject to something light and friendly, the better." "I can do that," Jimmy said. "I know you can," Betsy said. Jimmy made his way to the cabin. Betsy watched him wondering who he would eventually serve. She could feel it in him. She thought it might be the Goddess. He had a lot of interest in natural things. Of course, he could end up serving the God with a pet bear. One never knew. There was a groan from one of the two men. She leaned over to check him out. His eyes fluttered open. The man mumbled, "Where am I?" "You're in a plane," Betsy answered. "What happened?" "We crashed. How are you feeling?" "My legs hurt. My arms hurt," he said so weakly that she could barely hear him. Relieved, Betsy said, "This is going to sound strange, but that's good news. It means that your spine isn't damaged too badly." "Sleepy..." "Get some rest," Betsy said thinking that she was in for a long night. She was pleased to learn that he had feeling in his arms and legs. She was still concerned about moving him. She wanted him a little more alert before trying to get some fluids in him. She could just imagine him choking on it. That would get messy, very quickly. She sat back trying to plan out what she would have to do the next day. She could feel that time was of the essence. She knew that she could make it into town fairly quickly although she had no real idea how rough the terrain was between here and there. With a lot of luck, she'd be able to manage seven or eight miles an hour. She rummaged around around for a minute before finding the passenger manifest and a pen. She turned it over and wrote down the GPS co-ordinates. She turned it face-up and wrote the condition of each person next to their name. She figured that someone would need that information to organize a rescue. Melvin came in and said, "Why don't you go out there and sit by the fire a bit?" "I'm fine here," Betsy said. "It might be a good idea if you went out there," Melvin said. The way he said it suggested that his suggestion was motivated by more than generosity. She had a feeling that some trouble was brewing. There was only one likely source of trouble. "Cal?" "Yes." Betsy said, "Okay." Betsy stepped around from the side of the plane in time to hear Cal say, "It's simple. We leave them behind and walk out of here. They're gonna die anyway." "No they're not," Betsy said. "Yes they are," Cal said. "We've got to worry about ourselves." "No. You are going to stay here with Millie, Melvin, Sharon, and Jimmy to take care of them. I'll get help," Betsy said starting to pace around. "No way," Cal said. "I'm leaving in the morning." With a slightly evil smile on her face, she said, "I'll let you go with me if you can keep up. Otherwise, I'll just leave you behind. You know ... I've got to worry about myself." "Bullshit. You'll be trying to keep up with me," Cal said. Betsy was feeling a lot better now than she had in the past few weeks. Her energy had returned and she was ready to go now. She knew that she wouldn't stand much of a chance running blindly through the dark woods in the middle of the night. She said, "We'll see." Millie asked, "Are the two men going to be okay?" "They'll need medical care as soon as possible, but I think they'll be fine." Cal muttered, "You should put them out of their misery." "How's the back, Cal?" Betsy asked. "It hurts." "Maybe I should put you out of your misery," Betsy said brightly. "Bitch." Betsy turned to Sharon and asked, "How are you holding up?" "I'm okay, I guess. I've been getting cramps in my stomach," she said. "Let me know if it gets worse," Betsy said looking worried. Betsy was afraid that the accident had put a lot of stress on the fetus. There was the physical damage of getting tossed around in the plane. Now there was the emotional strain of dealing with being lost in the woods. She put a hand on Sharon's stomach. The feeling of power was still there, but it was a little weaker. "You don't need to worry about me," Sharon said. "You've got enough to worry about already." "I'm fine," Betsy said. Millie said, "You should take it easy. You've been running around nonstop all day." "That's nothing new," Betsy said. "You really should get some rest," Millie said. "I'll get some sleep later tonight," Betsy said. Turning to Sharon, Betsy said, "Tell me a little about Jimmy." "He's a good kid. He's different than other kids. He's a little more mature, thoughtful, and introspective than other kids his age," Sharon said. "I noticed that." "He's smart as a whip. He takes after his dad more than me." "His dad?" "Jim is an engineer and a pretty good one. He's in Montreal working on some project. I discovered I was pregnant and wanted to share the news with him. That's the kind of news that should be delivered in person and not over the telephone," Sharon said. "I can understand that." "I thought we would fly out and visit with him a little. We'd have a nice dinner out somewhere as a family and, once Jimmy went to bed, Jim and I would have a little time for a romantic time in bed. I was going to tell him then." "You really had that all planned out," Betsy said. "I remember every time I broke the news to Melvin that he was going to be a father again. I can't even tell you all of the emotions that I felt. It was so great watching the expression on his face when I'd tell him," Millie said. "You should have seen Jim's face. You'd have thought he won the lottery when I told him I was expecting Jimmy," Sharon said with a warm glow on her face. "He did. He won grand prize in the lottery of life," Millie said. Betsy continued to pace around listening to the conversation. She didn't think she'd ever get to experience that. She didn't say a word. "We've been trying to have another child ever since Jimmy turned two. After six years, I had given up hope," Sharon said. "I don't know how many women have given up and adopted a baby only to discover a month later that she was pregnant," Millie said. "That happened to a girlfriend of mine," Sharon said. "You hear about it all of the time," Millie said. Sharon said, "Jim's a great father. His job takes him away from home a lot, but he's always there for us. If there's something special going on, he jumps on a plane and comes home to be a part of it. A lot of men would just call up on the phone and apologize, but not Jim. He feels that whatever price he has to pay to be there for his family, is worth it. "I remember when Jimmy was playing a celery stalk in a school play on nutrition. It wasn't a big deal, but it was important to Jimmy. Jim flew in from Alaska to be there. He said that he'd rather walk through fire than miss it. He was one of three fathers there." "Melvin was a homebody. He owned a little electronics shop in town. It was a small town where everybody know everybody. He'd close up the shop in order to go to school events. It didn't matter what it was. He'd sit through plays, sporting events, and debates. He'd cheer on the kids. He was their biggest fan club. "I worried that he was hurting his business. He said that he wouldn't lose any business because everyone would know that he was going to be closed. If they wanted to buy something, they would either come in before he closed or after he reopened. He was right about that," Millie said. "You and your kids were lucky," Sharon said. Millie said, "He still takes an interest in the kid's life. Two of our daughter's children have their birthdays three days apart. They throw a really big party for them. We decided yesterday that we'd surprise them and show up for their combined birthday party." "I bet they'd enjoy that," Sharon said. "Well, I doubt our arrival will be a surprise after this," Millie said. "I hope we make there in time for the party." "I'm sure you will," Betsy said. Cal shouted, "Would you women stop gossiping? I'm trying to get some sleep here." "Shut up," Betsy said. After glaring at Cal, Sharon said, "It sure is dark out here." "Too bad there are so many trees. I bet there are a million stars in the sky," Millie said. Betsy said, "Our house was in the desert. You could see the stars every night. My brother and sister used to go up on the roof of the house and look through a telescope at the stars. I looked occasionally, but I didn't really have the patience to look through it for long." Millie said, "You really seem to care for your family." "I've got the best family in the world. My biological mother, Momma Ling, is one of the most dangerous women in world. My other mother, Momma Claire, is just as deadly." "Oh come on," Cal said. "Momma Ling has probably killed over a hundred people with guns or in unarmed combat. I'm the only person who has ever beaten her in fight. Momma Claire is one of the best shots in the world. Twice she shot a teapot through a wall when we were having problems with a couple of Chinese gangs. "Momma Linda is a story teller. She writes stories for children. They've even made some movies out of her books. Momma Kelly is Druid healer. She serves the Goddess. She's a pretty amazing woman. "Daddy Ed is a Druid. He serves the Two-Sided One. He's one of the bravest people you'd ever want to know. He's gone up against some truly evil people. Daddy Leroy is my biological father. He won the Nobel Prize in biology. He's one of the smartest people you'd ever want to meet. Daddy Dan is a computer genius. He basically runs the research division of the computer company he works for. Daddy Bill is helping to solve the world's problem with trash. He's going to really make difference." "Wow. You've got an impressive family," Sharon said. Millie said, "You just described the Carter Clan." "Sure. I'm Betsy Carter." Millie asked, "Didn't you kill a man a little while ago?" "He wasn't a man. He was monster who looked like a man," Betsy said. "I remember something about that. He drugged you and tried to rape you," Sharon said. Cal eyed Betsy speculatively. Betsy noticed and, while staring directly at him, said, "I can't imagine anyone thinking that he could survive after trying to drug and rape me." Millie said, "I heard you bit his arm off and beat him to death with it." Staring directly at Cal, Betsy said, "I didn't bite it off, I tore it off." Cal paled. "I think you did the right thing. A man like that doesn't deserve to live," Millie said. "I agree." Wanting to get back to a more pleasant subject, Betsy said. "My brothers and sister are amazing people." "You're lucky to have a family like that," Millie said. "I know. I'm very lucky," Betsy replied. There was a noise from the woods. Worried, Sharon asked, "What was that?" "I don't know. I'll check it out," Betsy said. "Stay around the fire where it's safe," Millie said. Heading off into the woods, Betsy said, "Don't worry about me." Betsy returned a minute later. "What was it?" Sharon asked. Holding up a dead possum by its tail, Betsy answered, "Dinner." "You've got to be kidding," Sharon asked shocked. "Nope," Betsy said. She went off in search of the knife. She went a little ways into the woods and cleaned the animal. She returned to the fire with a couple of pounds of meat. She then cut off strips of meat and threaded them onto sticks. She handed two sticks of meat to Sharon, two sticks of meat to Millie, one stick of meat to Cal, and she kept two. Cal asked, "Why does everyone else get two and I only get one?" "Sharon is cooking one for Jimmy. Millie is cooking one for Melvin. One of mine is for Ben," Betsy answered. Millie muttered, "What an asshole." "Excuse me. I wasn't thinking about them," Cal growled. Sharon said, "We know. That's your problem." "What?" "You don't think about anyone else besides yourself," Sharon said. Betsy wedged her sticks in the ground so that the meat could cook without her having to hold them over the coals. She went back to the possum and cut the remaining meat off of it. There wasn't much left, but they'd all get another bite or two of it. Betsy said, "Too bad we don't have any potatoes, bell peppers, and onions. We could make shish kabobs." "That's a shame," Sharon agreed. "Daddy Ed says that my father John could go into the woods with nothing and come out having gained weight. John knew everything about survival in the wild. He could get by in woods, swamp, desert, or even the arctic tundra. I'm sure if he was here that we'd be eating like kings." "You're talking about John Carter, right?" Millie asked. "Yes." Betsy moved in and turned the stick to cook the other side of the meat. The aroma of cooking meat filled the air reminding everyone how hungry they were. Her stomach growled. Sharon asked, "Won't the smell attract bears?" "That's why I closed up the back of the plane with all of the seats from the plane. If one does show up, you can poke it with a stick through the chairs until it gives up," Betsy said. Cal asked, "What are we doing out here?" "We're enjoying the fire," Betsy said. "What if a bear shows up now?" Cal asked. Betsy said, "I'll take care of it. I figure if Davy Crockett can kill a bear with his bare hands, then I can do the same thing." "You're the craziest bitch I've ever met," Cal muttered. "And you're the dumbest man I've ever met," Betsy said. "You can say that again," Millie said. It got quiet and everyone sat around watching the fire and occasionally testing the meat. The warmth of the fire and the odor of meat created a nice intimate environment. Betsy continued to pace around, checking out everything and returning occasionally to the fire. Betsy looked at the meat and decided it was cooked enough. "The meat is ready. Why don't you give me one of your sticks each and I'll take them inside for the others." The two women handed over a stick of meat each. Betsy grabbed them and headed into the plane. She went over the Melvin and held out a stick of meat. She said, "Dinner time." "What's this? Where did you find it?" "It wandered into camp," Betsy answered. "Thanks," Melvin said. The meat was hot and he gingerly bit into it. He let out a moan of appreciation. Betsy went into the cabin. She handed a stick of meat to Ben and one to Jimmy. "Where did you get this from?" Ben asked. "It wandered into camp," Betsy answered earning a grin from Jimmy. Ben said, "With the way you are always moving around, I imagine you have a pretty high metabolism, don't you?" "Yes," Betsy answered. Ben pulled off half of the meat on his stick and held it out for her to take. "Have this." "You need it," Betsy said. "I'm sitting here doing nothing except fouling my own nest. All I need is more piss and shit escaping from my body. You're running around taking care of everything. Eat it," Ben said. Jimmy said, "You can have some of mine, too." "You're a growing boy. You need it," Betsy said. "She's right," Ben said pushing the meat at Betsy. "You need to keep your strength up," Betsy said to Ben. "Eat it," Ben said. Betsy said, "I couldn't." "You'll need every ounce of strength that you have tomorrow. Take it and eat it," Ben said. "I'll share it with everyone else," Betsy said. Jimmy said, "Betsy, he's right. You need it, so you should eat more than the rest of us. We won't tell anyone. It'll be our secret." Betsy knew they were right about her needing her strength tomorrow. The only problem was that she couldn't take food away from them. It wouldn't be right. She said, "No. You need to eat it, Ben. Sometime tomorrow, I'll be in town. I'll eat then. You're going to be stuck here with nothing to eat. You're body is injured and is trying to repair itself. You need every ounce of protein you can get. I can't eat it." She slipped out of the cabin before either of them had a chance to argue. Melvin was standing there looking at her. He had overheard the conversation. "No one would think less of you if you ate a little more," Melvin said. Betsy said, "That's where you're wrong. I would." "You're a good kid," Melvin said. "Thanks. There's some more meat out there. I'll bring in some more for you." "Thank you," Melvin said thinking he'd talk to the other three about setting aside something for her to take with her tomorrow. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 20 Betsy awoke as a result of a hand shaking her shoulder. She opened her eyes to find Sharon kneeling over her. The light was just barely bright enough from outside to see Sharon. The woman put her forefinger on her lips in the universal gesture not to say a word. She then beckoned Betsy with a finger to follow her out of the plane. Curious, Betsy followed the woman. False dawn was rapidly approaching. It brought with it enough light to see her surroundings fairly well. She could leave for town anytime now. Sharon said, "I'm spotting." Betsy looked blankly at Sharon. She had no clue what that meant. Sharon repeated herself, "I'm spotting." "I don't know what that means," Betsy said. "I'm bleeding from my ... uh ... vagina," Sharon said. "Oh, my. That's not good." "I know." Kneeling by the remains of the fire, Betsy said, "We're going to have to get you to a hospital." "I know." Betsy blew on a couple of embers. A small flame suddenly popped up and she dropped a little wood on it. She had no idea what time it was, but she did know that it was light enough for her to get underway. She glanced at the plane. "I'll be right back," Betsy said. She ran into the plane and woke up Millie and Melvin. She gestured for them to go outside. They followed her out of the plane curious as to why she had woken them. Betsy said, "Sharon is in trouble. I've got to get her to the hospital." "So you're leaving, now?" Melvin asked. "We're leaving now," Betsy said gesturing over at Sharon. "We are?" Sharon asked. "Let Jimmy know that his mother has gone with me," Betsy said. Sharon said, "I can't go. I'll slow you down." Sharon was still using the crutch Betsy had made for her. Her hip and leg still hurt. There was no way that she was going to be able to walk thirty-five miles in two days, much less one day. Jimmy stepped out out of the plane. "What's the matter?" "Nothing." "You're bleeding," Jimmy said looking at his mother. "I know," Sharon said. "I'm taking her to a hospital," Betsy said. "Then get going," Jimmy said thinking that the sooner she left the sooner she would return with help for his mother. "I've got to take care of the fire before I go," Betsy said. He glanced over at the fire and said, "I'll take care of it." "I've got to check on the men who've been injured," Betsy said. Melvin said, "We'll take care of the men in the plane." Millie said, "We aren't exactly helpless." "Okay," Betsy said. She turned around and said, "Sharon, get on my back." "What?" "I'm taking you to the hospital. Get on my back," Betsy said. "You are going to carry me thirty five miles," Sharon asked incredulously. Betsy said, "Yes. Let's go." Thinking she would show Betsy how hopeless it was, Sharon climbed onto Betsy's back such that she was riding piggyback. She figured Betsy would stagger forward a couple of feet and then change her mind. "I'll be back late tonight, or tomorrow," Betsy said shifting a little so that she had a good hold of Sharon. "Sure," Melvin said not believing her. "Hold on." "Okay," Sharon said rolling her eyes. She almost fell off when Betsy took off at a run. She tightened her hold. Melvin, Millie, and Jimmy watched her run off, unable to believe their eyes. Jimmy asked, "Is she superwoman or something?" "I don't know. I'd never've believed it if I hadn't seen it," Melvin said. "Your mother is going to be okay," Millie said putting a hand on the young man's shoulder. "I know." Melvin said, "We didn't even have a chance to give her the meat we set aside for her last night." "I don't think she would have taken it," Jimmy said. "You're probably right," Melvin said. Cal came out of the airplane chewing on some meat. When everyone looked at him, he said, "I found it in the plane." Millie muttered, "Asshole." Betsy settled down to a nice steady mile eating pace. The ground wasn't too rough, the trees were spaced far enough apart that she didn't have to maneuver much to avoid them, and the branches were pretty high. Sharon had adjusted her hold so that Betsy could breathe. Betsy was supporting Sharon's legs with her hands. Betsy asked, "How are you feeling?" "I'm okay," Sharon said. She didn't feel that bad. She was still having occasional cramps. She was more worried about the baby than herself. She prayed that it wasn't too late. "Don't worry. She's still doing okay. She's a little weak, but she's okay," Betsy said. "How can you carry me, run, and talk?" "When I was training for my first Olympics, I used to carry my little brother Eddie on my back like this. He was a little lighter than you are; but I'm a lot stronger, now, than I was then," Betsy said. "You were in the Olympics?" "Three of them so far," Betsy said. "I competed in mostly track and field, although I did do a little swimming and martial arts." "Did you get any gold medals?" "Lots of them." "Wow." "I just realized something. They are all still in the safe back in Arizona. I ought to have them sent to my home in Hawaii so that I can hang them on the wall or something," Betsy said. "I've never met anyone who's won a gold medal before." "There are probably a lot more people running around with a gold medal than you realize. It's not exactly common, but it isn't really rare, either," Betsy said. Sharon said, "You are a very unusual person. You talk about the most extraordinary things in such a factual manner. It's really surprising." "I'm only stating the facts," Betsy said. "That's what makes it so amazing." ------- In an apartment in West Virginia, Annette was rocking back and forth, searching for any sign of Betsy's downed plane. Her far-sight gave her an advantage over any searcher. She could look over a square mile in the blink of an eye. However, there were a lot of square miles to cover in the search. She had been looking for several hours before she finally found the plane. It was in a really bad spot. There wasn't an open place anywhere near it where a helicopter could set down. The rescuers were going to have to go in on ATVs and they wouldn't be able to take a direct route because of the terrain. She didn't see Betsy anywhere near the plane. She found the rear section with the bodies inside, but Betsy wasn't among them. In fact, judging by the way the metal had been bent to seal the rear of the plane, it was likely that Betsy had done it. Frustrated, she broadened her search. She finally spotted Betsy running through the woods with a woman on her back. That kind of puzzled her. She had seen three men in the wreck who were more seriously injured than the woman. It didn't make sense that Betsy would take her and not one of the men. She looked closer at the woman. Her eyes widened. "Oh, my!" She picked up her phone and called Ed Biggers. When he answered, she said, "I found her." "Is she okay?" "She's running to the town nearest the crash site." "That's good." "She's carrying a woman," Annette said. "I'll call a helicopter to pick them up," Ed said. "The woman is pregnant," Annette said. "Okay. I'm sure the doctors can handle it." Annette said, "Get Kelly there. The fetus is in distress." "I'll see if Kelly can come with me," Ed said. "Ed, you don't understand. The child is special. We can't allow her to die." "Special?" "Yes. Get! Kelly! There! There are three other people who are injured at the crash site. She can deal with them after helping the woman." "I'll take care of it," Ed said. Annette gave Ed the details of where the town was located. After hanging up the phone, she sat back to watch the drama unfold. She watched Betsy scramble over a section of loose boulders while carrying the woman on her back. Annette said, "Go, girl, go!" ------- Pacing around the living room of her little one bedroom apartment, Sally looked like hell. It was the middle of the night and she couldn't sleep. Her friend, the first friend she ever had, had disappeared in a plane crash in the middle of nowhere. She was so worried that she hadn't been able to eat or sleep since learning the news. The ringing of her cell phone startled her so much, she nearly hit her head on the ceiling. She raced over to where her phone was lying, answering it before it could ring a second time. She saw that the caller was Ed Biggers. "Ed! Did they find her?" "Yes. She's running through the woods on her way to the nearest town. I'm heading there now with Kelly and Ling to meet her." "Is she okay?" "Yes." "Thank you, God!" ------- The local office of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police was full of activity. They had been told about a plane crash within their jurisdiction. No one had reported seeing the plane go down, which wasn't unusual considering the sparsity of people in the area. There wasn't much they could about it, but a bulletin had gone out to be alert for any sign of a plane crash. The telephones ringing off the hook accounted for the majority of the activity. There were too many phones and not enough people. None of the calls were from someone reporting anything new. The calls were from members of the press wanting updates on the progress of the search. With so many calls, they just let the phone ring until someone was free to answer it. A telephone that had been ringing for what seemed like forever was finally answered by a Mountie who had already dealt with a dozen calls in the past hour. He answered it with a bored 'hello', and then suddenly sat up straight. He wrote down everything the caller told him, promising to send someone to a certain town, to meet Betsy Carter, when she made it there. If the office had been full of activity before, it was nothing like after the call. Word quickly spread that two Druids were coming. The telephones really started to ring, but only half of the people remained there to answer them. ------- Betsy was surprised to come across a dirt road in the woods. It was headed in the right general direction. She got on it and started running faster, much to Sharon's amazement. Betsy had been running for five hours without a single break. Parts of the trip were through some very rough terrain that required her to slow down almost to a walk. Alone, she would have jumped from boulder to boulder, but she didn't trust herself to leap some of the distances with a person on her back. "You must be exhausted," Sharon said unable to believe that Betsy hadn't collapse by now. Betsy said, "I'm getting hungry." "I'm so sorry to be such a burden." "You aren't a burden. I kind of appreciate the company," Betsy said. "You can't tell me that after carrying me for so many hours that you aren't tired," Sharon said. "Okay, I won't tell you that," Betsy said as she snickered and added, "but it's the truth." The slap slap of Betsy's feet on the dirt road scared off a buck. Sharon watched it run off. "Did you see that buck?" "It would have been good if it had wandered past camp, last night," Betsy said. Sharon was about to make a comment about a deer being a lot more difficult to catch than a possum, but then thought better of it. She wasn't about to put limits on what Betsy was physically capable of achieving. For all she knew, Betsy would chase it down. "How much further do you think it is to town?" "Five or six miles. We should be there in half an hour, now that we are on a reasonable road," Betsy said. The dirt road wasn't graded. There were rough spots, bumps, and wash outs that prevented Betsy from really pouring on her speed. Still, it was better than dodging trees, gullies, and rocks. "I could walk for a bit so that you can rest," Sharon said. "We'll be there soon. Don't worry," Betsy said. After several more miles, the dirt road ended and a paved road began. Betsy took a second to look around before heading down the paved road towards town. It had been an easy choice, there was a sign announcing the town was two miles down the road. With a good surface to run on, Betsy really picked the speed. It wasn't long before they entered the town. The first person Betsy spotted was a Mountie standing by his car. She ran up to him and said, "Hello. I'm Betsy Carter. Are you looking for me?" The man stared at her for a moment and then answered, "Yes." "Sharon needs a doctor right away. Is there one around here?" "No. One is flying in," the Mountie answered. "Is there some place she can rest?" Betsy asked. "I can still walk around," Sharon said. "At least I could if you put me down." "Oh," Betsy said lowering Sharon to the ground. "Thank you," Sharon said. "I'm supposed to tell you that Kelly, Ling, and Ed are on the way here," the Mountie said. "I guess Annette found us," Betsy said. "She's a Druid?" "Yes." "She found you," the Mountie said. Betsy looked around. She pointed at a shop and said, "Food!" Sharon said, "I'm hungry. Can we eat while waiting for the doctor?" "Get on," Betsy said turning around. "I'll walk," Sharon said. "I'll meet you there," Betsy said taking off in a flash. The Mountie watched her run off. "She's energetic." "She just ran thirty-five miles since sunrise," Sharon said while limping over to the restaurant. "No way," the Mountie said. "With me on her back." "Impossible." They entered the diner in time to hear Betsy announce, "I want ten hamburgers, ten orders of fries, and four chocolate milkshakes." The handful of patrons were staring at her. The Mountie asked, "What's the matter?" "She won't take my order," Betsy said. The Mountie turned to the waitress and said, "Get her whatever she wants." Sharon ordered a hamburger, fries, and two milkshakes. She joined Betsy at a table. The young woman was bouncing around waiting anxiously for her order to arrive. Betsy reached into the back pocket of her pants and pulled out a piece of paper. She handed it to the Mountie and said, "Here are all of the details. The GPS co-ordinates of the crash site are on the back. The approximate state of health of everyone is on the front by their names. There's no way to land a helicopter there, so I'm going to have to return with a chainsaw and cut some trees down." "Let me call this in," the Mountie said getting up from his seat. "Where's my food? I'm hungry!" Betsy ate the food as fast as the waitress was able to deliver it to the table. The ten hamburgers and fries disappeared like magic. Everyone was staring at her open-mouthed. Once the last bit of milkshake had been consumed, Betsy stood up and pulled a hundred dollar bill out of her fanny pack. She tossed it on the table. Turning to one of the patrons, she asked, "Is there a hardware store near here?" "Two stores down." "Is it open?" "Should be." "I'll be back," Betsy shouted over her shoulder. Twenty minutes later, Betsy returned to the diner with a fully loaded backpack with a chainsaw wedged between her and the backpack. She went over to the Mountie. "I'm going back to the crash site. Do you have a radio I can use so that when the helicopter shows up I can tell them where to land?" The Mountie pulled his radio out and handed it to her. "It's on channel 12." "Thanks. I need you to promise that you'll stay here with Sharon until Momma Kelly arrives. It's very important," Betsy said. "I will," the Mountie said. Betsy said, "I should be there a little after dark. I'll clear out some trees. Send a helicopter with Momma Kelly about eight or so." "Sure," the Mountie said. "I'll see you later," Betsy said and then she was gone. "Bye," Sharon called out. The Mountie said, "I was supposed to keep her here." "You'll be able to see her at eight or so at the crash site," Sharon said. "There's no way she'll get there by then," the Mountie said. "A few minutes before sunrise, we were at the crash site. I climbed up on her back and she ran here carrying me on her back, without pause or break. She just kept going and going. She didn't break a sweat or lose her breath. She'll be there, and she'll have those trees cut down by eight," Sharon said. "I'd bet my house on it." "You're telling me that she ran over thirty-five miles across country with you on her back in six hours." "Yes." Betsy ran full out, pushing herself to her limits. She had a long distance to travel and not much time to make it. She knew she could manage fourteen miles an hour on highway. After her experience running to town, she felt that she could make at least eight miles an hour for the wooded portion of the trip. It was a few minutes before seven when Betsy made it to the crash site. The last bit had required her to use a flashlight to light the way. She slowed down and looked around. The fire had gone out and the inside of the plane was quiet. It looked like the crash site was deserted. Worried, she shouted out, "Is there anyone here?" "There's a bear out there!" Millie shouted out. Betsy removed the chainsaw and, after fussing with the safety features for a minute, finally got it running. Despite being powered by a fusion cell, it still made a bit of noise with the chain making a slapping sound against the grove. She revved the saw to make even more noise. Confident that she had the attention of every living thing within earshot, she called out, "Come here, bear!" Melvin shouted, "It's a real big bear!" "This is a big chain saw," Betsy said gleefully. She spotted the bear at the front of the plane. It was standing up and roaring. Grinning, she held up the chain saw and ran towards it shouting out a battle cry. The bear took one look at her and headed into the woods. He wasn't sure what she was, but something that charged with that kind of wild abandon wasn't to be taken lightly. Animals, unlike humans, weren't concerned with pridefully standing up to an enemy. In their world, if something looked stronger than you, then you ran. Seeing the bear disappear into the woods, Betsy stopped giving chase. She knew that in a foot race, even she couldn't outrun a bear. It was amazing that an animal that size could move faster than a person. She swung by the plane and shouted, "The bear ran off. I'll be back in about forty minutes. Stay there in the plane, just in case it comes back." Betsy went about a hundred yards into the woods and started cutting trees. The bear, which had given thought of circling around, heard the noise and decided he wasn't interested in staying in the area. She cut down six trees so that they fell away from a center point. She then cut the trunks into four foot long logs which she rolled out of the way. By the time she was done, there was a nice clearing fifty yards wide and seventy-five yards long. She figured a helicopter should be able to land in that area without too much difficulty. Betsy turned on the radio. Pushing the button, she said, "Hello! Is there a helicopter around here?" "We're about a mile away from the co-ordinates we were given." "I'll light a bunch of flares around the landing site that I made for you," Betsy said. "We'll be there in a minute." Betsy dug out six road flares and set them around the landing site lighting them as she went. Once she was convinced that they would be able to see it, she headed back to the plane. "Knock knock." Jimmy was about to open the door, but he paused and answered, "Who's there?" "Banana." "Banana who?" "Knock knock," Betsy said. "I know this one," Jimmy said opening the door to the plane. "Your mother is okay, Jimmy." "Thank you," Jimmy said. Betsy entered the plane and looked around. Melvin was sitting on the floor with a black eye. Cal looked in even worse condition. Millie was holding a substantial sized stick in her hand glaring at Cal. It appeared that, during her absence, things hadn't been very much fun around the plane. She said, "I've got food." "Don't tell me you brought us bear meat," Melvin said. "Nope. I brought a whole bunch of sandwiches," Betsy said removing the backpack and handing it to Jimmy. "Take some and pass it around. I'll lead the folks from the helicopter over here. I'll be right back." Jimmy had barely grabbed a hold of the backpack when Betsy disappeared out the door. He held out the backpack to Millie to let her have first choice. Melvin nodded his head in approval at Jimmy's actions. Cal reached for the backpack and then shouted in pain when Millie hit his arm with the stick. Betsy returned to the landing site to find her parents standing around at the far end and a man walking around dropping more flares. The helicopter was leaving, but there was another one overhead waiting to land. She ran over to her parents. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. Hi, Mom." Kelly asked, "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," Betsy said. "Come on, there are three people who are in very bad shape." "We need to wait for the other rescuers," Ed said. "Well, come with me. The crash is over that way," Betsy said. Ling said, "You had us worried sick." "It was all kind of unplanned," Betsy said. Ling shook her head and followed along behind her. Ed was chuckling at the exchange. Most plane crashes were unplanned. Kelly watched Betsy dancing around the debris that remained from cutting the trees. She had talked with Sharon and knew all about the trip to town. She could imagine what the trip back had been like. The second helicopter landed and people poured out of it. It took off and a third appeared overhead. Betsy shouted and everyone turned to follow her. When everyone had gathered around her, Betsy said, "You might keep an eye out for the bear. He and I had little confrontation." One of the men who had just gotten off the helicopter said, "You had a confrontation with a bear?" "Don't worry, the bear is okay. I didn't hurt it." Deadly serious, Ling asked, "Was it a good fight?" "He ran away before I could get to him," Betsy said sounding disappointed. "I guess the chainsaw scared him." "I've always want to try my hand against a bear," Ling said. Betsy said, "I know what you mean. That would be a great fight." Ed looked at Kelly in dismay and said, "They're telling the truth. They really do want to fight a bear." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 21 Ling, pulling Cal behind her by his ear, followed Millie and Melvin out of the plane. Betsy was inside with Kelly and the rescuers planning how to free the two men trapped in the chairs. Jimmy was over by the fire piling branches on it after getting it restarted. Ed was with him giving him pointers on the care and management of a good campfire. Ling threw Cal to the ground. Looking at Millie, she asked, "What's the story with him?" "He's an asshole," Millie answered. "I figured that much out already," Ling said looking down at Cal with an expression of disgust. Angry, Melvin said, "When the bear showed up, Cal closed and locked the door to the airplane." "He locked me out," Jimmy said. "He did what?" Ling asked in a low angry growl. "He locked me out of the plane," Jimmy said. "With the bear," Millie said. Cal said, "It was us or him. I picked us." "You made the wrong choice," Ling said. "That's your opinion," Cal said. Ed knelt next to Cal and, in a conversational tone of voice, said, "I love my wife. Ling is a great wife – loving, caring, and very giving. Unfortunately, when she goes too long without killing someone, she gets a little cranky. I bet it's been two years since she even had a chance to really hurt someone bad." "It's been longer than that," Ling said. "It's been that long since I was in a good fight. Well ... except for that one with Betsy." Ed said, "I know how Ling feels about all kinds of situations. The one that she really dislikes is when someone puts a child at risk. She would love nothing more than to take you into the woods and scatter your body parts all over the place for the scavengers to find. I'd be careful what I say, if I were you." Ling looked at Melvin and said, "I guess by the black eye that you opened the door and let Jimmy in." "Cal jumped me. Fortunately, Jimmy was small enough to climb in through the busted front window." "He jumped you?" "He grabbed me from behind, spun me around, and belted me in the eye. I didn't expect him to prevent me letting Jimmy in the plane. I honestly thought he didn't realize Jimmy was out there," Melvin said. "I grabbed the stick and broke it over his head when he kicked Melvin," Millie said. Ed grimaced. "Let me see if I have this right. You sucker punched an old man, and then kicked him when he was down." "He was going to let the bear in the plane," Cal said. Ed said, "Ling, cuff him. I'm sure the Mounties will be charging him with something." Ling pulled out a pair of handcuffs and had Cal trussed up in a matter of seconds. She wasn't all that gentle about it, either. Inside the plane, the four rescuers were laughing at Betsy's plan for removing the chair that the men were pinned against. They had examined it and knew they'd need some specialty tools. What bothered them was that the woman, who they knew was a Druid, was actually taking her seriously. "She's going to pull the chair out," one of the men said to another. "No way in hell," the man replied back. "She wants to fight a bear." "It had to be a cub." Betsy rolled her eyes. "Are you ready, Mom?" "Yes." "Are you guys ready?" "Sure." Betsy said, "I've been wanting to do this ever since I found them." She leaned down, set her feet, and pulled. There was a groan as metal started to bend, and then tear. The chair suddenly released, and Betsy tossed it off to the side. Kelly was moving over to the man seated next to the window. The others were staring at Betsy. "Well, help him!" Betsy shouted. The four almost tripped over themselves moving in to take care of the injuries. They were under instructions only to stabilize him until the woman finished with the first man. One of the men looked over at the other man and noticed that the Druid woman was having sex with him. "What the hell?" he shouted. "Get to work," Betsy said. After a couple of minutes, Kelly climbed off her patient. She pushed the other four men out of the way and climbed on the second patient. Betsy bounced over and held out a sandwich and a soda. "Well, Jake. I'll bet you're hungry and thirsty." "Yes," Jake answered looking confused. Without thought, he took the sandwich and soda. He glanced over at his brother, and was reminded of what he had just done. Seeing what Kelly was doing with his brother, he looked down at his crotch. He put down the soda, and tucked his cock back into his pants. He looked up at Betsy with an embarrassed expression on his face. Betsy said, "Don't be embarrassed. I've seen her do that, before." "She had sex with me," Jake said. "Yes, she did. She healed you. How do you feel?" Betsy asked. "I feel fine," Jake said looking around wondering if he was hallucinating. He looked down at his legs. His pants were torn. He remembered seeing bone sticking out. Now his legs were whole. Betsy said, "That's good. I was really worried about you." "I kind of remember you. You kept appearing and disappearing," Jake said. "Well, eat up. Your body needs the protein and the water." Jake opened the soda and took a long drink from it. He put the can down and went to work on the sandwich. It tasted like the best thing he had ever put in his mouth. Kelly staggered back and collapsed onto the floor. Healing the two men had taken a lot out of her. They had been in very bad shape. Their legs had been only the most obvious injuries. Kelly said, "It's a good thing you didn't move them. They'd have died within hours." "That's what I figured." John was slowly tucking his cock back into his pants. He had regained consciousness only to discover he was having sex with some strange woman. He wondered if he had been on a bender in some hole in the wall bar. Betsy handed him a sandwich and a soda. She said, "Here you go. Eat up and have a drink." "I think I'm going to give up drinking. What happened?" "We were in plane crash, and you got hurt really bad. Momma Kelly just healed you," Betsy answered. John said, "All I remember is pain." "Eat your sandwich. You need the protein," Betsy said. Kelly said, "Give me a few minutes to rest before I go after the last one." "Okay," Betsy said. The four rescuers had stepped back. They had seen the extent of John's injuries. They could also see that there was no sign of them now. They kept looking at each other and at John and Jake. One of the men knelt down where the airplane seat had been. He picked up a bolt and examined it. The bolt had snapped just under the head. He held it up and said, "She broke a steel bolt." "She tore the hell out of the support," another man said while examining the seat assembly she had so easily tossed aside. "I didn't believe her." "Neither did I." Outside, Ed was squatting by the fire watching the wood burn. Ling was seated on Cal. Melvin and Millie were seated on the ground. Jimmy was idly poking the fire with a stick. Ed said, "I talked to your mother before we came out here." "Betsy said she was okay," Jimmy said. "She's fine. The doctors wanted to take her to the hospital for observation, but it wasn't necessary. Kelly healed her and the fetus. They're both going to be fine," Ed said. "That's good to hear," Jimmy said. His current situation was unusual. He was currently out in the wilderness alone with a bunch of strangers after a plane crash. His mother had been carried off to a hospital. His father was in a distant city. He felt that he was handling it well, but he wished one of his parents was there. Ed said, "I know you aren't thinking about college yet, but I want you to know that I'm going to put in a recommendation at the Druid College that they accept you, if you pass the entrance tests." "Wow. That's the hardest school to get into, anywhere," Jimmy said. Melvin and Millie exchanged glances. Looking at the cowboy squatting by the fire, it was real easy to forget that he was one of the most powerful Druids in the world. "Three of our kids went there," Ed said. "Did Betsy go there?" "No, she didn't. To tell the truth, she didn't even apply. She discovered that she loved sharks and went to a university where they studied sharks," Ed answered. "She reminds me of a shark," Jimmy said. "Everyone who knows her says that," Ed said. Ling said, "I remember one of the parties at William's wedding. We found her swimming naked with the sharks at the Denver aquarium. I was so mad at her." "You weren't the only one. At least the Reverend Jones was there to watch over her." Ling was silent thinking about the Reverend Jones. Where she was a warrior, he was the ultimate man of peace. Despite the vast gulf in how they approached hostility, she had a tremendous amount of respect for him. She knew how much raw courage it took to stand straight and proud against an angry mob without lifting a finger in defense of himself. It was a shame that a man of that character had died. Millie said, "She must have been a difficult child." "She wasn't so bad," Ed said. Ling said, "She wore me out." "I can imagine," Millie said. Ling said, "When she was little, I'd be with her for ten minutes and need a hour to recover. Her brother, William, could spend all day with her, and never break a sweat. I never could figure out how he did it." Inside the plane, Betsy had gone into the cockpit to talk with Ben. She was pretty sure that he had heard what had happened in the back of the plane and was probably curious. It would be a little while before Kelly would be able to treat him. "I'm back," Betsy said. "I heard your lame knock knock joke. That was old when I was a kid," Ben said with a smile. "I think Jimmy enjoyed it," Betsy said. "He's a good kid," Ben said. "So how are you doing?" "I'm getting weaker by the hour," Ben said. "My mother is here. She'll heal you," Betsy said. Ben said, "I'm going to miss flying." "Why?" "You can't fly from a wheelchair," Ben said. "Why would you be in a wheelchair?" "Remember, my back is broken." Betsy said, "My mother will come here when she's recovered from healing the other two. She'll have sex with you and you'll walk out of here." "She'll have sex with me?" "Yes," Betsy said. Thinking there were a number of flaws with her assertion, Ben addressed the most obvious one, "I don't know if I'd be able to get an erection." "You will. She'll make sure of that," Betsy said. "I don't know if you noticed, but my body functions haven't exactly been under control. Even I can't take the stench," Ben said. "Don't worry about that," Betsy said. "Believe it or not, that happens a lot when people get seriously injured. I read once that the bowels let go when a man gets hanged." "Yeah, but they weren't alive afterwards to have to deal with the shame," Ben said. "Don't be ashamed. It's a perfectly natural function of the body," Betsy said. "It's just..." Interrupting him, Betsy said, "I've heard that it is actually a defensive function of the body in a last attempt to keep a predator from eating you." "I'd rather not talk about it," Ben said. "What would you rather talk about?" "I heard you challenge that bear," Ben said. "It ran off. Can you believe it?" Betsy asked. There was a scream from inside the plane and Ling said, "That sounded like Betsy." "I'll bet Ben just told her about Cal," Melvin said. Betsy came storming out of the plane. Her eyes, reflecting the flames of the campfire, appeared as if they were on fire. The look on her face was anything but pleasant. Ling scrambled backwards, and pulled Ed with her. "I'm not getting in her way," Ling said. Ed shouted, "Don't kill him, Betsy." "Oh, no! Killing is much too easy for him," Betsy growled. "Promise me you won't kill him," Ed said. "I promise. He'll just wish he was dead," Betsy said. Melvin muttered, "She looks pissed." "I wouldn't want to be him," Millie said. "Betsy. Think about how William will react." Betsy paused and then said, "William said nothing about how I treated Vicki." Ed frowned and said, "That's true." Betsy picked up Cal and headed towards the woods. "Come back here, Betsy!" "I'll be back," Betsy shouted over her shoulder. Looking worried, Jimmy asked, "She's not going to kill him, is she?" "I don't think so," Ed said with a worried frown. Ling asked, "What was that about Vicki?" "She was Betsy's cell mate. They put the meanest, toughest woman they could find in her cell," Ed said. "They put a prison bully against Betsy. That's a laugh. That's like throwing raw meat in front of lion." Ed said, "When I heard some of the things Vicki had done to other prisoners, I was sick to my stomach." "She sounds like a horrible person," Millie said. "She was cowering by the time I met her. She would jump at her own shadow. Betsy really screwed her up," Ed said. Ling said, "Let me guess. Betsy jammed a finger into every nerve branch point on the woman's body." "I'm not actually sure what she did," Ed said. "She was basically paralyzed, in pain, and would have occasional muscle cramps until the nerves repaired themselves," Ling said. "That sounds exactly like what happened to her," Ed said. Looking very proud, Ling said, "I taught her that one. You do that to some bully and you leave him or her a quivering mass on the floor. He or she can't move or do anything for a couple of a days. If you don't give them water, they can actually die of dehydration." Ed asked, "I'm sure that I'm going to regret asking this, but did you ever do that to someone?" "I did something like it to the man who was part of the plot to kill Happy Harry," Ling answered. "You're a very dangerous woman, Ling." "Thank you." Kelly came storming out of the plane. She asked, "Where is that lowlife?" "Betsy took him out into the woods," Ling answered. "Oh. I'm sure she'll make him suffer," Kelly said. Ed asked, "Where are your patients?" "They're cleaning up inside. They'll be out in a few minutes," Kelly said. "Was it bad?" "I've dealt with worse," Kelly said with a sigh. Jimmy asked, "Is Ben okay?" "He's fine. He's a nice man," Kelly said. "I'm glad he's going to be okay." Kelly looked at Ling. "Our daughter did a pretty remarkable job out here. She saved five lives." "I'm proud of her," Ling said. Ed said, "Me too." Millie said, "You should be proud of her." Melvin said, "She's a very good and honest person. She has ... integrity." "Thank you," Ling said. Ed and Kelly were suddenly jolted as if they had each grabbed an electric wire. As one, they turned to look in the direction in which Betsy had disappeared. Ed asked, "Did you feel that?" "Yes. Do you think?" "I've never heard of anyone getting called on any day other than midwinter or midsummer." Kelly said, "Well, she's not here any more." "I know." Two huge meteorites, leaving bright trails behind them, crashed together in the cloudless sky above. The combined meteorite crashed nearby in the woods. The ground shook as if someone had taken a huge hammer and pounded it. "What was that?" Jimmy asked, unable to believe what he had seen. "The Two-Sided One was here," Kelly said wide-eyed. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Part 2: The Trip ------- Chapter 1 The desert stretches from horizon to horizon, existing in both time and space. One man gazes upon it and sees paradise. Another man gazes upon the same scene and only sees desolation. One desert, two men, and three entirely different worlds. It is not a mystery why people argue and bicker over nearly everything. If two people can't agree on something as vast and as timeless as a desert, why should it be a surprise if they can't agree on much of anything? The variations in preferences of even the simplest of things, can appear too numerous to count: coffee black, coffee with sugar, coffee with two sugars, coffee with cream, and coffee with cream and sugar; and let us not forget the flavored syrups that can be added to the coffee. Six billion people, and six billion worlds. Any pair of worlds can be nearly identical, or vastly different. A person points to a great truth in his or her world, only to find another declaring it to be false in his or her world. There is a God in my world because I can see him at work. There is no God in your world because random chance rules in it. Another tries to force others to accept his world as the one true world, because he knows that there is no other world than his. We can not see or experience another's world, because our knowledge of the other world is sensed only through the filters of our own world. Six blind men experiencing different parts of an elephant describe it as a rope, a spear, a tree, a snake, a wall, or a fan without ever agreeing on which description is correct. "Ah," someone shouts, thinking of a loop hole. "Have the blind men experience more of the elephant until they all agree that it is a rope, a spear, a tree, a snake, a wall, and a fan." But this does not address the tiger, the walrus, the fish, the stream, the bridge, the tree, the car, ... well, the list is endless while time is finite. As vast as the differences in worlds might be, there are always more points of agreement than difference. Yet commonalities are not as significant as differences. There are no arguments about things people agree upon. Two blind men who experience the elephant as a rope will reaffirm each other's beliefs until they experience the tiger: one experiences a snake, while the other experiences sharp knives. From that point on, they will argue over the tiger and forget their shared view of the elephant. Conflict and war are inevitable when worlds collide. ------- "I didn't expect to see you," Betsy said sounding surprised, rather than awed. Seated naked on the ground, the ever obese woman laughed heartily. Her fat shook with each guffaw like a huge bowl of jello. Her pendulous breasts swung to and fro. She slapped her thigh creating waves that rippled across her pale skin. Not knowing what else to do, Betsy took the time to contemplate the surroundings. She was in the middle of a lush green meadow with a clear blue sky above. There were thousands of Monarch butterflies swarming around the edges of the meadow. They were so thick, that they nearly blocked the trees from view. Dragonflies of a variety of colors flew past, their stiff chitinous wings making a characteristic rattle. Despite recognizing everything around her, it felt like no place on earth. It was too beautiful. It was too tranquil. It was too perfect. Betsy knelt down and ran a hand over the grass. The carpet of thin bladed grass was the softest thing she had ever felt. She took her shoes off, and walked around enjoying the feel of it beneath her bare feet. "Wow! That's great grass." Still chuckling, the fat woman said, "I'm glad you like it." "Have I been looking at the wrong month on the calendar?" Betsy asked obviously puzzled. "I didn't realize it was midsummer or midwinter." "It is neither of those days." "That's good. I thought I was losing it there, for a minute," Betsy said wiping her brow in relief. The fat woman snorted in laughter. She wiped her eyes. "You have rendered a great service to us, and you should know that we appreciate it." "Thank you for your 'thank you'," Betsy said. "Uh ... what did I do?" "You saved the lives of two individuals who will become Druids, in the course of time." "Oh, that." Betsy waved her hand dismissively. Then, shaking her index finger at the fat woman, she added, "You might want to watch that little girl once she's born. She's been touched by ... oh, yeah ... by you ... Uh ... I guess you already know about her." Chuckling, the fat woman said, "Yes. You also saved a number of people who will play important roles in shaping the future." "I just did what I could," Betsy said. "You were the only one who could do it." "Modesty would dictate that I deny that, but it's probably true. There aren't any others like me," Betsy said. "There's a reason for that." "What reason?" "You were a wish we shaped, and let loose in the world. We hoped that you would do what you've done. You've done well, little one," the fat woman said. "Thank you," Betsy said, but looked a little puzzled at the description of her as 'a wish' they shaped. "You have a question?" "Why didn't you just take care of it yourself?" "William can answer that question as well as I, but I will not answer you." "Why not?" "It will undo all that you've done." "Then I suppose it is best that you don't tell me," Betsy said. "I agree, which is why I won't answer your question." Looking a little disappointed, Betsy said, "You're not like I expected you to be." Amused, the fat woman asked, "What did you expect?" "Everyone says you're the most frightening of the Gods and Goddesses. I kind of expected to be standing here with the feeling that thousands of ants were crawling on my skin." "Like this?" the Two-Sided One asked. Every square inch of Betsy's skin started to tingle and burn. The sensation was exactly like a thousand ants were crawling on her. This was absolutely the worst thing she had ever felt. She stood there shivering with her hair standing on end. Finding it hard to speak, she stuttered, "Y ... yes." The sensation stopped and Betsy sighed in relief. The fat woman said, "That's not very pleasant, is it?" "No, it's not." "I am the terrifying specter who haunts the blackest, darkest nightmares," the fat woman said while turning into the grim figure of death. "I am the angle who chases away the darkness with light," the grim shade said, while changing into an angelic figure of glowing light. "I am the cheerful fat woman with rosy cheeks and cookies on a nice fall day, who warms the heart of all who sit by her hearth," the angel said turning into a fat woman. "I am the jolly fat man who tells stories that brings joy to young and old alike," the woman said while turning into a fat man. "I embody the mysteries of male and female," the fat man said turning into a young woman joined with a young man. The young couple turned into the fat woman. She said, "I am the manifestation of all possibilities the mind can create." Impressed, Betsy said, "Wow. Now, that's what I was expecting." The fat woman burst out in laughter. She rolled on the ground, unable to contain her mirth. Gasping, she said, "You are funnier than your brother!" "I hope that's good," Betsy said. "It is very good," the Two-Sided One said. "We'd like to reward you with the one thing you really want." "A man?" Betsy asked hopefully. The Two-Sided One said, "You want a lot more than just a man in your life." "It would be a start." "It would be a bad start," the Two-Sided One said. "I'm kind of disappointed to learn that." "Your disappointment won't last long." "Am I going to become a Druid?" "No." "A bard?" "No." "Oh," Betsy said. "What will I become when I enter your service?" The fat woman said, "Come suckle on my breast and I shall tell you." Betsy looked at her and thought about it for a second. It was kind of a strange request, but this was a God and Goddess in one. She shrugged her shoulders and went over to the fat woman. "I might not do this right," Betsy said, "but I'll do my best." "Please do," the fat woman said with a wry grin. Betsy put her mouth to the woman's breast and sucked. A warm sensation flowed over her. It was like being caressed by a soft gentle breeze, cocooned within warm sunlight, and supported by water. She felt safe and loved. The woman started singing a lullaby, "Baloo balilli, Baloo balilli, Baloo balilli, Baloo ba. Ging awa peerie fairies, Fae my peerie bairn..." Betsy fell asleep sucking on the woman's breast. ------- Betsy slowly awoke, feeling as if she'd had a full night's sleep. She was lying under a tree and looking up at the dark branches above. She had no idea of what time it was, but it was clearly night. She decided that not too much time had passed since entering the meadow. She could hear the sounds of people working at the crash site. She sat up and looked around expecting to find Cal nearby. There was no sign of him. She wondered what had happened to him. She guessed he had run off the second she had disappeared. She figured he would turn up sooner or later. He wasn't the kind of person who could actually make it on his own in the woods. His fears would drive him back to the crash site. She looked down to see if she was wearing the medallion of a Druid. She wasn't. She checked to see if she was wearing the bracelet of a bard. She wasn't. She noticed that she had a gold torque on her upper arm. "Cool," she said. "I look like some kind of Barbarian Barbie with this." She swore that she could hear laughter. She got up and walked towards the crash site, following the noise rather than trusting her memory. It wasn't very far from where she had awakened. She had thought she had walked further than that. She stopped beside one of the trees, and watched the activity taking place. People were gathered around one side of the plane, talking and pointing. Others were trying to undo the tangle of seats that she had put in place. It looked like they hadn't made any progress on that effort. A new fire pit had been built where it wasn't directly next to the plane. It was obvious to her that it had been moved, so that it wouldn't be in the way of those working on wreckage. There were still traces of the old fire pit. Her parents were seated around the fire talking with Millie, Melvin, Jimmy, John, Jake, and Ben. It looked like Ling and Millie were having a pretty good conversation. It was strange, but she never had thought of Ling as being much of a conversationalist. Ed and Kelly were talking with the other four men. Jimmy was poking a stick in the fire. She spotted an ice chest that was sitting near the group. Based on the fact that everyone was holding a soda, she assumed that it contained iced drinks. She realized that she was very thirsty. She headed towards the cooler and looked inside. There was a lot of ice with cans of soda partially buried within the ice. There was a pretty good selection of soda. She grabbed one, not particularly caring what kind it was, and opened it. Her arrival was definitely noticed. Everyone had watched her stroll over to the ice chest. Several of them kept glancing in the direction of the woods wondering what had happened to Cal. She took her soda over to the fire and sat down next to Jimmy. She smiled and said, "Hello everybody." "You're back," Ling said. "It looks that way," Betsy replied. Jimmy said, "I was a little worried about you." "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to worry you. I was detained." Jimmy said, "Your parents said that you'd be back. I figured it wasn't too serious since they weren't worried. Still ... there was that bear out there." "How long was I gone?" "An hour, more or less," Ling answered. Kelly and Ed were staring at the torque on her arm. They looked at each other with confused expressions, and then shrugged their shoulders. They had no idea what it represented. They could feel the power of it, but could not discern its meaning. Ed asked, "What's the torque for?" "I don't know," Betsy answered leaving Ed looking at her in confusion. Giving voice to what a number of people were wondering about, Millie asked, "What happened to Cal?" "I don't know. I think he ran away when I ... got detained," Betsy answered. She wasn't too willing to talk about what had happened to her in the woods. She looked at her mother and father wondering what their visit to the meadow had been like. It dawned on her that they might not have gone to a meadow. They could have gone to a desert or a swamp. "You didn't hurt him?" Melvin asked. "I didn't even have a chance to lay a finger on him," Betsy answered. "Do you think he's gone for good?" Melvin asked. Betsy answered, "I'm sure he'll be back. He's like a bad penny." Millie asked, "Should we send out a search party?" "We could, I suppose," Betsy said. Millie and Melvin exchanged looks suggesting that they didn't believe her. They weren't willing to be part of a cover up if she had killed him and left him in the woods. It didn't matter that she had done a lot to save all of them. Betsy idly rubbed the torque and then said, "He'll be along in a few minutes." "If you say so," Melvin said glancing in the direction of the woods. Having felt that little spark between Betsy and her torque, Ed said, "She's telling the truth. He'll be here in a few minutes." Betsy looked over at Jimmy. The young boy looked exhausted. Due to his advanced maturity, it was easy to forget that he was just a little boy. The traumatic events of the past few days had caught up with him. Patting her thigh, Betsy said, "Come to me, Jimmy." Jimmy moved closer. Betsy put an arm around him and gently pulled him to her chest. Initially he put up a token resistance, but then he leaned into her. She started rocking back and forth. Betsy sang, "Hush little baby, don't say a word, Momma's going to buy you a Mockingbird. And if that Mockingbird won't sing..." Jimmy was already asleep by the end of the first verse. Ed and Kelly stared in amazement at Betsy. Ling was frowning, not sure of how to interpret Betsy's actions. Millie and Melvin exchanged looks. Ignoring the reaction of the others, Betsy looked down at Jimmy. Seeing that he was asleep, she turned her attention to the two brothers who had been trapped in the plane. She didn't know anything about them. She said, "Hello, Jake and John. I'm Betsy. We never really had a chance to get to know each other." "I know. We were kind of out of it," John said. "We heard a lot of stories about you," Jake said. "I hope they were good." "From what we understand, you saved all of us," Jake said. "I just did what I could," Betsy said dismissively. John said, "One of the rescuers told me that it would have been a week or more before they would have found the plane. They weren't even searching in the right area. Jake and I would have been dead by the time anyone found us. Your run to town saved us." Changing the subject, Betsy asked, "So what business made you get on the plane?" Jake answered, "We were going to a shark conference." "The one in Montreal?" Betsy asked. "Yes," John answered. "You're interested in sharks?" Betsy asked thinking that she knew most of the people who studied sharks. She also remembered the words of the Two-Sided One that a number of people on the plane were going to help shape the world in positive ways. "Not really. We've got a new technology that we think is pretty good, and could be of value for marine life researchers. It's a hybrid organic filtering system that is a quarter of the size of typical systems." Betsy said, "What's it for? Backyard ponds? Indoor aquariums?" "No. This is for large holding tanks of millions of gallons, like you would use to hold sharks or whales," Jake answered. "Really?" Betsy asked interested in learning more. "It's very efficient," Jake said. "We were hoping we might find someone interested in investing in it at the shark conference. We could afford to fly to Montreal and stay there with some friends. We don't have the money for conferences in the more exotic tropical locations where they are usually held," John said. "Where were you guys working when you invented it?" Betsy asked. Despite her interest in the subject, she was languidly rocking back and forth while gently rubbing Jimmy's hair like one would pet a cat. He was sound asleep with a peaceful expression on his face. He settled in, snuggling closer to Betsy. Kelly stared at the scene thinking that Betsy would make one hell of a mother. This was the first time she had ever seen Betsy act that way. It wasn't the only thing different about Betsy, but she couldn't figure out what else had changed in her behavior. "Winnipeg," Jake answered. "You've got a need for aquariums that size in Winnipeg?" Ed asked. "No. We were working on water purification processes for use in rural areas where the water quantities are relatively small, but the purification needs might be high." "So are you selling it?" "Not yet. We need investors." Betsy said, "Do you have a business plan?" "Sure. I could hand you one right now, but we haven't found our briefcase yet." Betsy said, "I'd like to see it. I'll give you my card so that you can send it to me." "Thanks. I'm hoping that we'll get to the conference before it ends," Jake said. "I'd kind of hate to waste all of the money we spent on our reservations," John said. "There's Cal," Millie said relieved to see the man alive. Everyone turned to look at Cal. The man, legs barely able to support him, was staggering around as if drunk. His hair had turned bright white. He had a terrified and haunted look on his face. He stumbled over to the fire while glancing fearfully back at the woods. "Get me out of here," the man said staring at the woods in terror. "You can get on the next helicopter that's leaving here," Ben said. "Okay," Cal said before turning and staggering towards the rescue crew. When everyone turned to look at Betsy, she protested, "I didn't do that to his hair." "I believe you. That man looked like he'd seen a ghost," Millie said. Betsy said, "If you could all leave, why didn't you?" "We were waiting for you," Melvin said. "Didn't Daddy Ed tell you that these meetings tend to last days?" Betsy asked. "Truthfully..." "Around Daddy Ed, that's the only kind of answer that's acceptable," Betsy said earning a chuckle from Ed, Kelly, and Ling. "We didn't believe him," Millie said glancing over at Ed apologetically. Ed said, "There's nothing wrong with a little skepticism." Betsy turned to Ben and asked, "What are you going to do now?" "I don't know," Ben answered. Less than two hours ago he had been faced with a future in which he would be paralyzed. He felt it was incredible that a woman had healed him with sex. In thinking about it, he realized it wasn't incredible, it was miraculous. By all rights, he should have spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair. He sighed. "There's going to be an investigation into why the plane crashed. Most of these things end up being ruled pilot error. I don't see how having your plane shutdown on you in flight could be pilot error, but you never know how bureaucrats understand the world." "We'll get you good lawyer," Betsy said. "You don't need to do that," Ben said. "I insist," Betsy said. "You and your family have already done a lot for me." "We'll get you through this difficult period. When it is done, you can become my personal pilot," Betsy said. Ling asked, "What's going to happen with the pilot I vetted?" "Last time I saw him was on my third flight with the charter company," Betsy said. "I've been getting whoever is available on my flights." The charter company owned the jet and provided pilots for Betsy's use. Ling had arranged an account there for Betsy on the understanding that one particular pilot would be on call specifically for Betsy. From the perspective of the charter company, having a pilot sitting around waiting for a single customer wasn't a winning proposition. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind," Ling said. "Ling! I vetted them. Gary and Stacy have folders on everyone that works in that hanger," Betsy said. "Stay out of it." The owner had renegotiated the terms of the contract with Betsy. One paragraph had been added to the contract at Betsy's insistence. In the event that she determined that having a private pilot and jet better served her needs, she would pay a monthly fee to the charter company for hangar space and maintenance for the remainder of the term of the contract. It was actually a good deal for both the charter company and Betsy. "Okay," Ling said with a frown. Ed said, "You should know that Gary and Stacy are in Montreal at the moment." Betsy said, "Speaking of Montreal, we've got a couple of kids celebrating a birthday who are in dire need of some grandmotherly and grandfatherly attention. We've got a young man who wants to be reunited with his mother and father. We've got two businessmen who have money to raise for a filtration system. We've got a pilot who needs a lawyer. I suggest that we get on a couple of helicopters, and get out of here." "That's a good idea," Jake said. Betsy effortlessly rose from her seated position while holding Jimmy in her arms. She walked with Millie and Melvin to where a man was overseeing operations at the crash site. Kelly grabbed Ling's arm before she had a chance to get up. Excitedly, she stared at Betsy and said, "She's walking!" "She's always been able to walk," Ling said, looking at Kelly as if she had said an extremely stupid thing. "No," Kelly said as she shook her head. "She's walking! Not running, not bouncing; walking!" Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 2 In the process of selling the idea of their filtration system, Jake and John Widmeir had made two interesting discoveries. The first was that Betsy Carter had almost limitless energy. They had been told that, but seeing was believing. She could keep going long after everyone else collapsed from exhaustion. There had been one funny little incident in which a cocksure kid had thought he could keep up with her, in the workout room of the hotel. She had walked out bubbly and full of energy, leaving him sprawled out on the floor in total collapse. She hadn't even noticed that he'd been competing with her! The second thing that they discovered, was that she was a far sharper businesswoman than they had imagined. She dealt fairly with people, but always made sure that it wasn't at the sacrifice of her interests. She could negotiate with the hardest nosed businessman without losing her cool, while making him work for everything he got. Anyone who tried to slip something past her was told, 'Thank you, but no thank you, ' and sent on his or her way. They were left with the knowledge that she would never do business with him or her in the future. To the casual observer, her work style appeared scatterbrained. She would order someone to do something, and then change the subject. In fact, she was stating exactly what she wanted, with the expectation that the individual charged with the task would get it done. She didn't manage people, so much as aim them at a target. She'd meet with them at critical decision points, maintaining control in that manner. They learned that she had invested in a re-breather when she was younger. Everyone involved in that deal, wanted in on this one. They had watched while people called, one after the other, wanting details of the opportunity she was pursuing. An accounting firm had called, seeking a contract to provide accounting services. Law firms made offers that were incredibly generous. Even suppliers of parts for the re-breather had contacted her; either to invest in the company, or to serve as a supplier of parts for it. The one thing that impressed the two brothers more than anything was her frank assessment of her own limitations. When she didn't know something, she admitted it, and then found someone who did know it. She wasn't embarrassed by her ignorance about a topic, but accepted it. Then she went on to learn from those who were experts. In less than a week, Betsy had managed to put together a group of investors, navigate the intricacies of incorporating Widmeir Aquatics. She had set up a deal to install an experimental version of their invention for a new shark tank, at a small public aquarium. The funding she had put together was just above the amount identified in the business plan. The company had a management team in place, along with supporting companies that could meet the accounting and legal needs of the business. It had all been wrapped up less than an hour earlier. The two brothers were shocked by the degree of control they retained over the company. Investors had a reputation of putting in a management structure that would eventually rid the founders of any and all control. Betsy had set up a structure that protected them while bringing in an experienced management team. They had expected accountants to run the business, but she had found engineers with business experience. She believed that engineers understood running an engineering firm better than accountants. She had told them that an accountant would run a cost-benefit analysis that cost twenty thousand dollars, to determine whether a defect should be corrected. While an engineer would spend the five thousand dollar necessary to correct the defect. Despite all of her hard work and money, Betsy had only taken ten percent ownership of the company in voting shares. The other investors had a larger share of it than her, but the two brothers retained the majority interest. It was more than what either brother had expected. At the moment, Jake and John were waiting for her to come down from her hotel room so that they could take her out for a celebratory dinner. This evening was the only chance they would have to thank her for all of her efforts on their behalf since they were flying home the next day. They had a lot of work to do and they were ready to get started on it. Jake said, "This is going to sound weird, but that plane crash was the luckiest thing to ever happen to us." "It does sound weird. I have to agree with you on that, though," John said still finding it hard to believe the turn around of their luck. Jake's emotions got away from him and he hugged his brother. "We did it. We're in business." John hugged him back. "This is a red letter day." "Yes, it is," Jake said. Betsy and Charlie stepped off the elevator into the hotel lobby. They spotted the two brothers and headed their way. Charlie said, "I'm sorry about making you wait." "No problem," Jake said. Betsy said, "I'm hungry." "We better get going," Charlie said to Jake. Jake said, "We've got a car waiting out front." The four walked out the front of the hotel. Jake signaled for the car to pull up so that they could get in. John was searching his pockets for the slip of paper the concierge had given him with the name and address of the restaurant on it. Charlie was double checking the amount of time that would be required to get to the airport in the morning. Betsy heard a noise that sounded like a woman sobbing. She looked over in the direction from which it had come. A woman, wearing a top that covered nothing, and a skirt that covered little more, limped around the corner of the building. She made it to Betsy, and collapsed at her feet. Her right eye was swollen, her left cheek was discolored, her lower lip was split, and there were hand marks on her arms. Jake, John, and Charlie turned to see what was happening. They all stared at the woman, not believing their eyes. This was a high end hotel. One did not expect a woman in that condition to bother the guests. They were not the only ones who had noticed the woman. The valet had made a gesture into the hotel summoning help, and then had hurried over towards the woman. The valet froze upon spotting the very large man who had just come around the corner. The man had to be 6'5" and three hundred pounds of ugly muscle with fists the size of hams. The terrified woman tried to get away upon seeing him, but she couldn't get up. Looking up at Betsy in desperation, she said, "Help me." Barefoot, Betsy stepped over the woman. She left the shoes she had been wearing to the steakhouse, back where she had been standing. Planting herself between the large man and the woman, she appeared to settle into place like the Rock of Gibraltar. John was staring at the woman at Betsy's feet, until Charlie pulled a pistol from her purse. She held it discretely out of view. He stared at the pistol, wondering where she had gotten it from. This was Canada! People didn't carry guns around like that! He leaned over to Charlie and whispered, "You aren't supposed to have one of those." "I've got a permit," Charlie replied. Jake had noticed the large man advancing on Betsy and, in an attempt to prevent things from escalating, said, "Hey, man, we've called the police. You'd better get out of here before they arrive." Ignoring Jake, the man approached Betsy, glaring at her. He expected his large size and angry expression to send the woman running away. Larger men than she, had fled when facing him. When she didn't budge, he said, in a low growl, "Get out of my way." "No." The big man reached out and grabbed her. When he went to pull her out of the way, he found that he was flying twenty feet through the air. He hit the ground, hard. He clambered up, and stormed back with steam coming from his ears. He went to give her a backhand across her cheek. His hand stopped a fraction of an inch from hitting her when she grabbed his wrist. She delivered two backhanded blows; one with her right hand, and one with her left, that made his head ring like a bell. She stood there, anchored like a rock. His attempt to hit her in the stomach was rewarded with two of the hardest blows to the stomach he had ever felt. He stumbled backwards unable to believe that a woman had been able to hit him that hard. Convinced that if he could just get his hands on her that he would overpower her with his strength, he charged at her like a mad bull. She grabbed one of his hands, spun around, and tossed him away like yesterday's paper. He hit a wall making a loud thud! The man slowly regained his balance, and his control over his temper. He faced Betsy and walked forward a couple of steps. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a pistol pointing it directly at her head. Charlie had her pistol pointed at his head, but the distance was too great for a clean shot. Too much of his body was blocked by Betsy's body. The last thing she wanted to do was to shoot Betsy by accident. She edged to the side, moving slowly to avoid attracting attention, hoping to get into a better firing position. She bumped into John. The man said, "Get out of the way, bitch." "No." He couldn't believe that she hadn't run away screaming at this point. Although she was perfectly still, there was a coiled tension within her like a rattlesnake about to strike. She was staring into his eyes in a way that reminded him of a predator staring at its prey. There was something about her that made his spine tingle. His anger was replaced by a small tinge of fear. "I'm going to have to shoot you." His hand quivered out of nervousness, while his finger started to pull the trigger. He then discovered his pistol had somehow jumped from his hand, into hers. Four of his front teeth had moved so that the business end of the pistol could enter his mouth. On discovering that he was sucking on the business end of his own pistol, he pissed himself. Betsy's eyes had never left his. In a soft voice, she said, "Go! Before I kill you." There was no doubt in anyone's mind, that Betsy was more than willing to kill the man. He fled into the night, his mouth bleeding from where his front teeth had once been. Throughout the entire confrontation, the young woman Betsy was protecting, had remained on the ground. She had been unable to move, paralyzed with fear. Tears had blurred her vision, lending her view of events an otherworldly feel. Her nose was filled with snot, making it difficult to breathe. Charlie put away her gun with a trembling hand. She had been a thousandth of an ounce of pressure from firing her pistol, despite the poor quality of shot available to her. Betsy's hand had moved so fast when she had taken the man's pistol away, that it had been a blur. Charlie had never seen anything like it. Jake and John had remained frozen in place watching events unfold. Both men had felt helpless in dealing with the situation. Neither man had wanted to step in front of Charlie, since she had a gun trained on the man. Neither man had thought to step back, so that she could better position herself for a clean shot. Now that it was over, they stood there feeling disgusted at themselves. Men were supposed to protect women, not the other way around. "I'll be back," Betsy said after helping the young woman stand. Betsy paused to put on her shoes while still holding the young woman upright. Jake and John exchanged glances, while Betsy led that young woman into the hotel. The two women disappeared into the elevator. Betsy had to use her card to reach the access controlled floor of the hotel. Jake said, "She'll be back?" Charlie said, "You'll hear that a lot when you're around her." "How long do you think she'll be gone?" "Maybe five minutes," Charlie said. "It could be a little longer. She lives on 'Betsy time.'" Betsy helped the young woman out of the elevator. The young woman shuffled along as if she didn't trust her feet to leave the floor. It was actually that she couldn't see the floor through the tears that still flowed from her eyes. Once they reached the room, Betsy tossed a box of tissues to the woman. The woman fumbled the catch, and the box fell to the floor. She reached down to pick it up. "Blow your nose," Betsy said. The woman grabbed a tissue out of the box. She blew her nose with a loud honking sound. It wasn't very ladylike. She did find that she was able to breath a little easier. "What's your name?" "Candy." "Candy? Do you really expect me to believe that?" Betsy asked. "It's short for Candice." "Hello, Candice. I'm Betsy." "Thank you for what you did out there. All I hoped that you'd do, was help me stand up, or even call the police," Candice said with her lower lip trembling at that memory of what had happened. "Don't worry about it. It was nothing," Betsy said while going over to the little desk. "Larry's a big mean guy. He could have killed you," Candice said. "He never stood a chance," Betsy said dismissively. Candice had witnessed what Betsy had done. She knew that Betsy was probably right about Larry never having a chance. Betsy had tossed the man around like he was a rag doll. Candice had never seen anything like it. She still wasn't sure that she believed what she had seen. Betsy said, "Why don't you go in there and take a shower? There's a hotel bathrobe in the closet that you can use." "I couldn't," Candice said. "You can, and you will," Betsy said. While Candice took a shower, Betsy picked up the hotel directory of useful numbers and flipped through its pages. This directory was for the luxury rooms only, and included many numbers not normally provided for guests. She found the number she was seeking, and made a call. After a short discussion, she hung up and made a second call. Now that she had taken care of the all the essential details, she waited for Candice to come out from the bathroom. She figured that Candice would be in there for a while. She sat down and stared out of the hotel window at the city around her. It was a lot different than her little town in Arizona; or Honolulu, in Hawaii. While Toronto might have a large tourism industry, it didn't compare at all in that regard with Honolulu. It was more of a business town with tall buildings that housed offices, rather than innumerable hotel rooms. It also seemed to her that Toronto was a colder town than Honolulu, and she didn't mean it in terms of climate. She didn't know why she had that impression, and knew it was probably unfair to the locals. It was a far cry from her home town in Arizona. Candice came out of the bathroom wrapped up in a large fluffy white bathrobe. Her shower had washed the blood from her face. Her cheek was swollen, and was starting to turn colors. The split lip looked worse than it was, although Betsy knew that it had to be painful. "I've called a doctor. I want you to be checked out by her. The hotel manager will bring her up here," Betsy said. "I can't afford a doctor," Candice said. "I can." "But..." "I've also asked for a nice meal to be brought up here. I ordered spaghetti with a meat sauce, since I figured that would be easy for you to chew. Your jaw looks to be in pretty bad shape, but you'll need the carbohydrates and protein to heal quickly." "Thank you." "There are soft drinks, juices and milk in the refrigerator. I recommend the juices or milk. Please leave me a bottle or two of the chocolate milk." "You've done enough for me. I should probably leave," Candice said feeling like she didn't deserve this kind of treatment. Candice was quite honest about who and what she was. She was a prostitute, and not one of the high-end women who earned good money working in hotels, brothels, or on out call as an escort. She was one of the lesser whores who walked the streets wearing clothes that revealed more than they concealed. She gave blow jobs in cars parked in dark parking lots. There was nothing glamorous about the lifestyle she was living. It was barely one step above being a bag lady. Betsy said, "You came to me for sanctuary. I'll provide it. You'll stay here until it is safe for you to leave. It is not yet safe for you." "I'm safe now that Larry is gone," Candice said. "You're injured. You're not ready to take care of yourself," Betsy countered. "I..." Interrupting her, Betsy said, "We can talk about it when I get back. I'm going out to dinner. I'll see you later." "What am I supposed to do while you're gone?" Candice asked looking around the luxurious room. "There's a bed in that room over there, that isn't being used. After you see the doctor, get some sleep," Betsy said. "I couldn't impose," Candice said. Betsy said, "It is not an imposition. Now, I've got police to talk with and dinner to eat. I expect to find you asleep in bed, when I return." Candice was left there waiting for the doctor to arrive. She hoped he gave her a clean bill of health, and that she'd be able to leave. It didn't matter that she had nowhere to go once she left. She would suck a cock or two to get enough money for bus fare and leave. Maybe she could start a new life somewhere far from here. While Betsy had still been on the elevator taking Candice to her room, a police car had pulled up to the front of the hotel with its lights flashing. The response might have seemed slow, but the entire episode had taken less than two minutes. The desk clerk had spent a lot of that time on the phone, talking to the emergency operator. The police had arrived on the scene within a minute of getting a call from the dispatcher. Before the officers even had a chance to get out of their car, the valet was over there excitedly describing what had happened. It was obvious that the police officers didn't quite believe him. When the valet got to the part about Charlie pulling a pistol out of her purse, the two officers headed directly to her. "I understand you have a firearm." Charlie slowly opened her purse making sure that the officers could see inside it. Rather than pulling out the pistol, she carefully removed the case that held her permit, with just two fingers. She opened it, and handed it over to one of the officers. He glanced down at it, and then relaxed. "I see you have a permit." "That's right." "We'd appreciate it if you'd set the purse on the hood of the car, out of reach." "No problem," Charlie said. "Did you fire the weapon?" "No, I did not," Charlie answered. The two officers split the party up to interview each of them separately. Again, they didn't believe the story, despite that fact that everyone described essentially the same series of events. The words used to describe what happened varied; but overall, the stories were consistent. The only problem was that the story described a series of events that were very improbable. It was like they had all read the same fairy tale, and were paraphrasing it. Part of the reasons rendering the stories unbelievable, was that the two officers were pretty sure they knew the identity of the assailant. They were also positive that they knew the woman he had been after. She had been working on the street for the past six months. The only evidence that their guesses might be wrong, was that a woman had taken the assailant out. Large Larry was not the kind of guy who could be tossed around like they had described. While Charlie and Jake were being interviewed, John stood off to the side. He was trying to figure out what he could have done to protect Betsy. He felt he should have moved to intercept him before he had first reached Betsy, but his attention had been on the woman initially and then transitioned over to Charlie's pistol. Once he noticed the man, he hadn't expected the violence to erupt so quickly. Once it become violent, it was over pretty quickly. He didn't really see where he had a chance to prevent with what had happened. Even if he had made over to the man in time, he didn't think he'd have stood a chance at stopping him. While the two officers interviewed John, Charlie turned to Jake saying, "I wasn't concerned for Betsy until he pulled the gun. I was ready to drop him right then, and there, but I couldn't get a clear shot at him. I didn't want to shoot over her head out of fear of hitting her." "I should have done something more than to tell that guy that the police were on their way. I'm sure he wasn't worried about the police showing up," Jake said mentally kicking himself. "What could you have done?" "I don't know. I was supposed to do something. She's a woman." Charlie said, "Hey, don't knock women fighters. I'm a Marine and I'd still be kicking ass in the Philippines if I hadn't lost my foot to an RPG." "Sorry." "No problem." Once the police had finished interviewing John, he joined the other two. He said, "Boy do I feel like an idiot. I didn't see that bastard until after he had grabbed Betsy. I was too busy looking at your gun." "I feel the same way," Jake said. 'We were all pretty useless, ' Charlie thought. Aloud she said, "There wasn't anything we could do." Betsy left the elevator, walked through the lobby, and then joined the others outside. The police initially ignored her thinking that she was just another guest. When they realized that she was with the others, they examined her with a bit more care. Rather than waiting for the police to begin questioning her, Betsy said, "Ah! You're here. I took Candice up to my room. You can interview her after the doctor arrives and takes care of her injuries." "Candice?" "A lot of people call her Candy, but her name is Candice," Betsy said. The officers proceeded to question her about the events that had taken place earlier. They questioned everything about her actions, casting doubt on every word she said. It was obvious that they didn't think she was capable of doing what had been attributed to her. The man she had fought had a well deserved reputation as a dangerous man. Irritated at their jaded disbelief, she said, "Gentlemen, I'm very fast." "I'm sorry, but we want the real story." Betsy stepped back and examined both officers. Suddenly, she performed a spinning side kick that passed right in front of the nose of one officer. The move continued with a second kick that passed the nose of the other officer. Neither man had even had a chance to react by the time she was standing in front of them with both feet on the ground. "Gentleman, I'm very fast," Betsy said simply. "We can see that," the one officer said stunned by the speed with which she had moved. "I believe you now," the other officer said swallowing heavily. Covering her eyes with one hand, Charlie said, "Betsy. Don't do that while you're wearing a skirt." "Why?" Betsy asked. "Everyone now knows you're wearing blue panties," Charlie said. "I'm not used to wearing skirts," Betsy said apologetically. The head of hotel security had been in his office when the confrontation between Betsy and Larry had occurred. He was still rising out of his chair when he saw that it had come to an end. Instead of going downstairs, he went to the security center and made sure to get the videos saved. Once that was done, he had headed towards the elevators. He went over to the police officer and said, "I've just reviewed the video from the surveillance camera. Would you officers like to see it?" "Sure." "That would be a good idea." Betsy asked, "Can we go now? I'm hungry." "Go ahead." In the security office, the men watched the video of the confrontation. Even in slow motion they couldn't see Betsy take the gun out of Large Larry's hand. They played it several times, going over the action almost frame by frame. "That's fucking scary." "She's fast." "I never thought I'd see Large Larry sucking on a gun like that." "That's just too unreal." "I don't think it is humanly possible to move that fast." "Did you see how she threw him around?" "I saw it and I still don't believe it." "They didn't train us to do that." "Did you notice him flying backwards when she hit him in the gut?" "I'm going to take a copy of this to our self-defense instructor. This is going to blow his mind." "He'll never believe it." "Show that bit where she takes his gun again." "I'll bet good money he's at the hospital right now getting his mouth taken care of." "Larry sucking on a gun." "I just noticed. He pissed his pants." "Do you blame him?" "No." "Let's swing by the hospital." "I'm sure we'll find him there." The limousine driver had seen the entire confrontation from inside the vehicle. No one had noticed that he had even been there. He had even recorded the whole incident on his cell phone. He was going to post it on the web the minute he got home. Now, as he drove along, he listened to the discussion taking place in the rear. Charlie said, "You could have backed off so that I'd have had a clean shot at him." "Why? He was slow as molasses," Betsy said. Patting her purse, Charlie said, "I'm supposed to help protect you." "You're my secretary, not my bodyguard. You've got more things to worry about than my physical safety. You know ... I can take care of myself," Betsy said. Even though he knew that he and his brother probably would have ended up in the hospital, Jake said, "You could have let John and me take care of it." "She asked me for help, not you," Betsy said dismissively. Charlie said, "There were four of us and one of him." "Right," John said. Betsy leaned forward and asked the driver, "Do they have big steaks at the place we're going?" "Yes, Ma'am. I understand they have a twenty-four ounce Porterhouse that's out of this world." "I guess I can get three. I'm pretty hungry," Betsy said. "Three?" the driver asked no sure he heard her correctly. Jake asked, "Three?" Charlie said, "You must not be that hungry if you're only thinking of ordering three." John and Jake stared at her trying to decide if she was joking. She had delivered the line in such a straight tone of voice that it was hard to tell. Betsy said, "Now that I've slowed down a bit, I don't need to eat as much food as before." John asked, "How much did you used to eat?" Charlie said, "I've seen her polish off two forty-eight ounce Porterhouse steaks!" "Two?" the driver muttered. "Two?" Jake asked. He tried to imagine taking Betsy out on a date. He thought he'd die of embarrassment if his date were to order that much food. Most women he dated would order a salad, and pick at it as if they didn't have an appetite. He wouldn't know what to think if his date ordered a large steak, much less two of them ... and managed to polish it off! He glanced over at his brother and knew he was thinking the same thing. Inside the restaurant, the two brothers watched the two women consume a remarkable amount of food. They had been warned about Betsy, but not about Charlie! ------- Chapter 3 The table was loaded with enough food to feed a small army: scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, toast, hash browns, pancakes, porridge, and fresh fruits. The offerings filled the little serving trays and bowls, from which the people gathered around the table could assemble their own meal. Betsy grabbed a substantial portion from each tray. Charlie took some eggs, toast, and fresh fruits. Candice ate a bowl of porridge, and some fresh fruits. There was no conversation while they ate. Betsy was focused on getting as much food into her stomach as possible. Charlie was still waking up. Candice was too nervous and uncertain to talk. The only sounds in the room were the normal clicks, clatters, and other sounds as silverware hit plates, cups landed on saucers, and people took bites out of food. At the end of the meal, Charlie handed Candice a small bottle of pills. "We had the prescription the doctor left last night filled. It says that you are to take three pills a day," Charlie said. "Thank you," Candice mumbled. She took the bottle of pills looking embarrassed. It contained antibiotics for the venereal disease she had picked up in her job. She had no idea that she even had it, much less when she had gotten it. She was lucky that it wasn't the HIV or Herpes, although she still had to be tested for the former. Betsy asked, "What are your plans?" Candice was going to lie, but after thinking it over she decided to tell the truth. There was no reason not to tell the truth. In fact, it would make it easier to leave if she was kicked out. "I figured I would give a couple dozen blow jobs, use the money to get on a bus, and get as far from here as possible. I don't think it would be a good idea for me to stay around here. I was thinking I'd head west, maybe Calgary or Vancouver." Charlie looked shocked, but Betsy didn't bat an eye. Of course, Charlie didn't have the experience of having met the hordes of William's friends in the homeless hotels and streets that Betsy had. Candice was not the first woman Betsy had met who sold her body for a living. "At least that's a plan. It's better than nothing," Betsy commented. "What do you mean, it's a plan? It's a horrible idea," Charlie said affronted by the idea. She figured a couple years in the military would straighten Candice out. It would put some structure in her life, give her three squares a day and a cot at night. She might even meet a man, get married, and settle down to raise a brood of kids. Betsy answered, "It's not horrible. Her idea of getting out of town is a good one. Maybe you don't approve of the way that she's thinking of going about it, but it does leverage doing something she knows how to do." Candice had expected Betsy to react more like Charlie and for Charlie to react more like Betsy. The reversal of roles kind of threw her for a loop. She didn't know what to think. "So if it is all the same to you, I'll just get dressed and go," Candice said. "Don't be in such a rush. I doubt you'd find a customer until later this afternoon, anyway," Betsy said. "You don't need a whore hanging around here," Candice said. Betsy said, "My business is done, here. I should be heading back to school. We can take the northern route back. That would take us through Vancouver. We could drop you off there. That'll keep you off your knees until you get over your little infection, and you would still get out of town." "You're kidding?" Charlie asked incredulously. "No." "That would be nice," Candice said. She wondered why Betsy would offer to do something like that. It didn't make sense to her. Betsy asked, "So what will you do when you get to Vancouver?" "I hadn't thought about that," Candice said rather shocked at how bluntly Betsy had summarized her situation. "I didn't think you had. If you go back to strutting your stuff on the street, you'll be getting battered by another man, like the one last night. That's not exactly good planning," Betsy said. "I don't have many options," Candice said. "You don't? I find that hard to believe," Betsy said. Charlie said, "Join the military." "I'm a high school drop out. The military won't take me," Candice said throwing Charlie for a loop. Betsy said, "You can always work in a strip club until you get your high school equivalent. I don't know how that works here in Canada, but they've got to have something." "That's an option," Candice admitted rather surprised that Betsy would even suggest it. "That's not an option," Charlie said. "Don't be such a prude, Charlie. A job in a strip club, is a job. She can earn decent money," Betsy said. "It's humiliating and degrading." "It's better than giving blow jobs in cars." "She's got to get out of the sex business." "Why?" "Because, it's degrading." "It's a living. If she thinks that is all that she can do to earn a living, then it is the best choice among all of her options," Betsy said pointedly. "Still..." Betsy said, "She came to me for protection and help. I've protected her. Now I'm trying to find out how to help her. You aren't helping by dismissing some of her options." Charlie sat back in her seat with her arms folded across her chest staring stonily at Betsy. She was not happy with the direction in which the discussion had headed. She planned to have a long talk with Betsy about the morality of sending a woman out to be a prostitute. Candice was just as bewildered by the direction the conversation had gone as Charlie, but for different reasons. It was the last thing she expected a rich woman like Betsy to suggest. She even wondered if Betsy wasn't a call girl who worked the high-end market. Betsy turned to Candice and asked, "What do you think?" "I could try that," Candice said. Betsy said, "Until your infection clears up, you'll probably have to serve drinks rather than strip. You wouldn't want to pass your disease along to your customers. You'd have a bunch of pissed off men after your ass, in no time at all." "That's reasonable." "You wouldn't make as much in tips." "That's true," Candace said. "This is disgusting," Charlie said. "I spent last night looking at some business properties in Vancouver. I found a small twenty unit motel just outside of town. I was thinking about buying it," Betsy said. "Why on earth would you buy a motel in Vancouver?" Charlie asked. Rubbing the gold torque gently, Betsy said, "I have a feeling that I'll need a place or two like that." "You're just throwing your money away," Charlie said in disgust. "It's my money." "I can't argue with you, there," Charlie said. She wondered if Betsy hadn't suffered some kind of brain injury. She wasn't doing the kinds of things that Betsy would normally do. Betsy said, "Candice, you could do the strip club stuff or you could run the motel for me. It's not a job that requires a lot of education. You check people in, check them out, and have maids clean the rooms every day. You'll hand the receipts and money off to an accounting firm." "That's sounds doable," Candice said thoughtfully. She had a feeling that Betsy was buying the motel just to give her an option. It was a lot more than she felt she deserved. She wasn't going to reject the offer outright, but she didn't feel right about taking her up on it. Charlie stared at Betsy wondering where she was taking this. Betsy said, "Of course, there will be times when I will send a special guest there. They will have to remain hidden, and won't have the money to pay for a room. I would let you know when one of those guests would arrive." "Okay," Candice said not understanding what Betsy meant. Betsy said, "From what I was able to tell, the place is in pretty sad shape. You'll have to spend some time getting it fixed up." "I don't know how to do that," Candice said. "You hire people to fix it," Betsy said dismissively. "It'll be a money trap," Charlie said. "I'm not buying it as a financial investment," Betsy said. "I figured that out. You are buying it to keep Candice from having to be a whore." Betsy shook her head in the negative. "No. I'm making a different kind of investment. I'm investing in the future. Not only her future, but the future of a number of other people." "Who?" Betsy answered, "I don't know yet. I do know that I will have need for a couple of places that can serve as sanctuaries for people who find themselves in untenable situations in the future." Betsy leaned forward so that she was addressing Charlie more than Candice although what she was going to say was meant more for Candice than Charlie. She said, "Candice would be solving a problem of mine. I'm giving her options. I'm hoping that she'll choose the one that helps me the most. That choice is taking care of an old rundown motel outside of Vancouver. I'm not worried about the money. Jake and John are going to make me a fortune. Over one billion people all over the world need the ability to change muddy disease infected water into fresh potable water. Their system can answer that need. In fact, it was the original purpose of their organic filtration system. They just don't know how to sell others on the economic value that it has. "Jake and John are engineers and not businessmen. They know that small towns everywhere need such a system, it is just that their initial attempts to address that market were rebuffed rather soundly. They thought that large holding tanks for marine life would be an easier sell than municipalities. To a certain extent, they are right. They'll be selling their system in marine parks and research facilities all over the world before long. It is just that one day, they will break into the water treatment business, and then the money will really flow. "I know that you are trying to prevent me from making a mistake, and I appreciate you looking out for my interests. In this matter, though, I must insist on following the course of action that I think is correct." Charlie knew that she had lost the argument. She nodded her head in defeat. "Okay." "It would really help you if I ran your motel?" Candice asked. "Yes." "I guess I can try," Candice said. Betsy said, "Great. Charlie, you'll need to make arrangements for us to fly to Vancouver this afternoon. We'll be staying there for a couple of days, so we'll need lodging. Also, I'll need a banker, a realtor, and a lawyer to facilitate the sale. I bookmarked the webpage with the motel for you. "Gary and Stacy are still at the hotel where the conference was held. Gary can take a commercial flight back to Hawaii from Vancouver. We'll take Stacy to Vancouver with us. She's going to need to know the lay of the land there." "Okay," Charlie said. She had just had a ton of work dumped on her. She had hoped to be returning to Hawaii today, but accepted that her plans had changed. "Candice, we have some shopping to do this morning." "Shopping?" "You're not going anywhere with me, dressed like that!" ------- It was the next morning when Betsy, Stacy, Charlie, and Candice arrived at the motel. Charlie looked at the place and compared what she was seeing to the photograph that had been on the website. There was no comparison. She shook her head in disgust. The lawn was overgrown and full of weeds. Where there had once been a sign for the place, there were now a few scattered boards on the ground. The motel was a pit, and would require a lot of money to fix up. Every room required repairs: new fixtures, and replacement doors, new carpets, etc. The exterior required structural work. Every square inch of the place needed a good coat of paint, or two. The parking lot needed to be repaved and restriped. All of the washers and dryers in the laundry room needed to be replaced. The ice machine had a rat's nest in it. Betsy, Charlie, Stacy, Candice, and a representative from the bank followed the real estate agent around, checking out each room and all of the equipment. Charlie couldn't believe that anyone actually thought they could sell it. Candice was a little disheartened at the thought of living there. The real estate agent figured she was wasting her time showing this particular property. Stacy had just followed them around checking the place out. When the group reached the office, Betsy turned to the real estate agent and said, "Do what you have to do to make it mine. I'll go as high as a quarter million, Canadian." "I don't think we can back a project like this," the representative from the bank said. The walk around the motel had shown that it wouldn't be much of a money maker. In fact, the banker expected Betsy to lose money on it. A quarter of a million to purchase it along with his estimation of the operating costs would require that she have a very high occupancy rate or charge far more than the market could bear, just to break even. He was not impressed with Betsy as a businesswoman. The only way to make any money on this deal was to rent out the rooms by the hour to cheating spouses wanting a place where they wouldn't be found by suspicious mates. The bank was not interested in backing that kind of business. Betsy said, "Explain it to him, Charlie." Charlie sighed thinking that it was good that Betsy had calmed down since the plane crash. She could just imagine the impression she would have made if she had still been jumping around. She could almost read the banker's thoughts. She pulled the banker aside to explain that Betsy would be buying the hotel and that the bank's involvement would be limited to maintaining standard business accounts. The accounts would be initially funded with sufficient money to purchase the motel, refurbish it, and operate it for a year. His role was to create the accounts, and to assure that money transfers occurred effortlessly, when needed. Knowing that Charlie would be busy with the realtor and the banker for a while, Betsy gestured to Candice and Stacy to step outside the office. She had a bit of work for both of them to do. Betsy said, "Candice, I know it doesn't look like much right now, but it will be a nice little motel by the time we're done with it. You'll want to fix your living quarters first. There's a hotel down the street you can live in, while the motel is being repaired." "I can't afford that." "It's a business expense. I expect you to be on site when the repairs are being performed. That requires you to live nearby. The motel will bear the burden of covering that cost, not you." "Okay." Turning to Stacy, Betsy said, "I need you to identify a safe room, where we can hide someone in case of trouble. I was thinking that the last three rooms could have the walls thickened, and bullet proof glass installed. You might consider adding connecting doors. That would allow guards to stay on both sides of the main room." "You sound like you expect to have trouble, here," Stacy said while looking over the building. The old motel might have been in pretty beat-up condition, but the fact of the matter was that it was a sturdy little building. The walls were much more substantial than the exterior suggested. She figured that they were made with cinder block. They might not stop a car, but they were a lot better at stopping a bullet than a wood frame construction would be. "Yes. There are lots of bad people in the world. They prey upon the good people of the world. The good people occasionally need a safe harbor. The bad people will try to violate that sanctuary." "Okay," Stacy said drawing the word out so that it almost sounded like two words. "Anything else?" "Not at the moment," Betsy said. "Let me check out those rooms before I commit to anything," Stacy said. She was not particularly thrilled with the idea of having one of the rooms along an exposed exterior. A well prepared group would be able to walk up to the building, unseen, and use explosives to breach the wall. She would prefer having rooms in the center of the building. At least that way, a group would have to check into an adjacent room to come in through the wall. That would be much more difficult to approach unseen. "Good." Stacy headed off towards the other end of the motel. She wasn't all that impressed with the place. However, her eye was taking in details, and trying to assess it from a security perspective. With a little effort, they could create additional routes of egress from the parking lot. A minor change here and there could make a few of the rooms more difficult to attack. The doors would need to be strengthened and reenforced. They could even put an egress point to the roof in one of the rooms. Turning her attention back to Candice, Betsy said, "Charlie will work with the lawyer to set up a corporation. The corporation will own the motel and you'll earn a salary running it. I'll be the majority stockholder in it. Don't worry, you'll be a minority stockholder and will have the power of making the day to day decisions in its operation." "How do you know that I'll be able to do this?" Candice asked. Betsy rubbed the torque on her arm. "I just know." "In case you've forgotten, yesterday I was charging for blow jobs," Candice said. The amount of money that Betsy was entrusting to her was staggering. She was terrified of the responsibility that it represented. She could see blowing all of that money on setting up the motel and then watching it go bust. Betsy replied, "I thought we already covered that. Yesterday, I gave you a choice between being a prostitute, working in strip club, or being a businesswoman. If I remember correctly, you chose to become a businesswoman." "Well, yeah." "Good, I suggest that you stop thinking like a whore and start thinking like a businesswoman." "But ... I don't know anything about business," Candice said. "Actually, prostitution is a business with a lot of similarities to running a hotel. In both cases, you're renting out a little space for a person to occupy," Betsy said with a grin. Candice frowned at the image Betsy invoked. She couldn't believe that the young woman had said that. Of course, it was the kind of comment that she'd never be able to forget. She said, "I suppose so." Betsy asked, "What do you think of the name, 'Good Haven, ' for the motel?" "That's a fine name," Candice said. She actually liked the name, particularly since she understood a bit of the rationale behind it. The inn was to serve as a safe haven for people in trouble. Of course, she would have been supportive of any choice of name preferred by Betsy, even if it had been the 'Spank The Monkey Motel.' "You'll have to find someone to make a good sign for the place. It needs to be visible to anyone driving by. I don't think we want something crass or obnoxious looking, just something, nice, solid, attractive, and functional." "Okay." "Don't short yourself when fixing up your quarters. You're going to be living there for a long time. Make it comfortable. You know, space for a large bed, a functional kitchen, and a living room that you can entertain in. One of these days, you might get married and it will have to support a husband and kids as well," Betsy said. "Right," Candice said rolling her eyes. "Like anyone is going to marry an old whore." Ignoring the comment, Betsy asked, "Do you have a driver's license?" "Yes." "Good. We'll get a car for you to use. We'll try to get one this afternoon and then get you settled in at the hotel. I'll make sure that you have a bit of spending money until we're able to close the deal on the motel." "You don't need to give me money!" Betsy looked at the young woman as if she was not very smart. Sometimes it was a whole lot harder to help someone than one would think it should be. It seemed to her that Candice required rather blunt examples. She asked, "How are you going to buy tampons?" "Uh..." "That's right," Betsy said. "But..." Betsy said, "It's not a handout. You're on the job now. You're just getting an advance on your salary." "It's an advance on my salary?" Candice said. "Right." "I haven't done anything, yet." "You've taken the management tour of the facility that you'll be managing. That's something. In fact, that's one of the first things that a good manager does." Candice blinked several times. "I guess so." "I want you to think of all of the things that require fixing around here," Betsy said. "I can do that," Candice said. Charlie, the banker, and the realtor were still standing in the office of the motel. Although there were several pieces of furniture left in the room, none of them wanted to sit on any of it. The chairs were filthy from having sat there for several years without being cleaned. Who knew if any little critters had taken up residency in them. The banker had his arms crossed across his chest. He was angry, and getting angrier at what he felt was a tremendous waste of his time. He was stuck having to wait for this nonsense to end, because he had come over in their car. He hadn't even wanted to come; but the Senior Vice President of the bank where he worked, had ordered him to go with this group. The realtor was uncomfortable with the instructions she had been given. She'd never had a customer say, 'do what you have to do to make it mine' to her. There was a procedure to follow to make that happen. It was one in which the customer was heavily involved. Charlie knew the meeting wasn't going well. The realtor kept talking about arranging a mortgage, writing up an offer, getting a counter offer, negotiating the price, and putting down a deposit. The banker kept telling the relator that his bank wouldn't agree to loaning out the money for the project. Finally, Charlie had enough of their negative attitude. She cleared her throat to get their attention and then said, "Betsy has a debit card she will use to pay for it outright." "A debit card?" the banker asked. "Yes." "You've got to be kidding," the banker said. "No, I'm not. I wasn't there, but I do know that's how she bought her last house. They got a credit card machine at the closing and swiped her card through it," Charlie said. She, as well as the banker, knew that money was money. If the right people were present that anything could be purchased if the price was right. "How much was the house?" "Twelve, five," Charlie answered. "There's a lot of difference between a quarter of a million and twelve thousand," the banker said. "That was twelve point five million, not thousand," Charlie said. The banker was stunned. "She's a kid." "She's also worth a quarter of a billion dollars at last estimate," Charlie said. "Didn't you know that?" "No one told me that," the banker said. Charlie turned to the realtor and said, "Negotiate the price to under a quarter of a million with the owners. By the time that is done, she'll have a corporation established, funded, and, with his help," Charlie hooked a thumb at the banker, "she'll have an account with the money necessary for the purchase. You will hand deliver the offer to them, have them sign it, and come back here. Betsy will then sign it. She doesn't care about an inspection. She's seen the place. She doesn't care about what is in it, as it's all got to go, anyway. She wants the property free and clear of all debts, liens, and obligations. Your instructions were very simple: 'do what you have to do to make it hers.'" "Yes, Ma'am." Charlie turned back to the banker and said, "We will be meeting a lawyer at the bank. A corporation will be set up, and a business account will be created. You will be present at the closing to transfer the money to the seller's account, and to the realtor's account in payment of her commission. Is that clear?" "Yes, it is," the banker said, wondering where the train that had just run over him had come from. Charlie said, "I want to go home to Hawaii. My prosthetic foot is killing me, and I need to see the people who made it, in order to get it fixed. I want to have the business established and funded today. I want the closing the day after tomorrow. Is that clear?" "Yes, Ma'am." "Yes, it is." The banker was pretty sure that it would take longer to incorporate than one afternoon. There was a very formal process for incorporating in Canada. That wouldn't be his problem, though, he'd let their lawyer worry about it. Charlie asked, "Are there any questions?" "Just one," the banker asked, "Why this place as an investment?" That was an easy question to answer without giving the full truth, Charlie answered, "She's following the investment advice of her brother. He says that she needs to own companies and physical assets, not stock." "Who's her brother?" "William Redman Carter." That was a name the banker recognized. He wondered where all the trains were coming from. He decided that she could probably manage to get incorporated that afternoon. There were ways to get incorporation expedited, particularly if you could call up the people involved, and get your paperwork moved up to the top of the pile. Betsy breezed into the motel office followed by Stacy and Candice. The two young women were both looking thoughtful. Stacy was mentally working out what kind of security arrangements could be made while Candice was trying to figure out how she had gotten here, and what she was going to do now that she had arrived. "Do we have time to stop at a sandwich shop before we see the lawyer?" Betsy asked. "We are supposed to meet the lawyer at 12:30, in the conference room of the bank," Charlie said. "Great. That gives us plenty of time. I really could use a couple of sandwiches," Betsy said. Candice asked, "How is it that you are able to stay so thin?" "Exercise," Betsy answered. "Speaking of which..." Interrupting her, Charlie said, "The lawyer will want you there until the paperwork is complete." "Then let's stop and get a treadmill. I need to crank out a good ten or fifteen kilometers soon. I'm starting to get restless," Betsy said with the merest hint of a bounce. Stacy shook her head. It was a whole lot better working with Betsy now that she wasn't always moving, but she was driven to exercise three times a day. Her exercise routine was almost the equivalent of a week's worth of exercise for a normal person. She never did the same exercises two sessions in a row, and it was impossible to guess what she would feel like doing. Stacy wished Gary was there, so that he could set up the treadmill. She hated doing that. They were big, heavy, and bulky. Betsy left a scattered trail of slightly used exercise equipment behind her. She figured some young person working in the bank would be going home with a treadmill, that evening. "I'll get one," Stacy said. "Great. Let's go. I'm hungry." Charlie turned to the realtor and said, "We should be incorporated around four this afternoon. You'll want to get the incorporation information, in order to properly fill out the official offer paperwork. We should still be at the bank at that time." "I'll be there by four," the realtor said. She followed them out of the office. She remained behind to lock the place up while they got into their car and left. It took her a few minutes to go around and check all of the doors. Walking like a zombie to her car, she was mentally calculating the commission she would earn on this sale. Her energy level picked up when she realized it would be almost twenty thousand dollars. That was a pretty good amount, but she'd have to work non-stop to make the sale happen. Still, she had never before gone from showing a property, to closing on it, in less than forty-eight hours. She whipped out her cell phone and started making calls. She needed to get things rolling before it was too late. There was a lot she could do before going to the bank to meet with Charlie. The first thing was to get the contact information for owners of the property. Her stomach clenched upon recalling that the owners were a bunch of greedy argumentative heirs to their parent's estate. This was going to get really messy, very quickly. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 4 With her business finished in Vancouver, Betsy stepped out of the jet looking fresh and alert. She was happy to be back in Hawaii. She was hungry and needed a little exercise. She somersaulted off the top step to the ground below. It wasn't that great of a height, but it was enough to boost her energy level up another notch. Stacy followed behind her, looking a little worse for wear. It was obvious that she was tired. She had that rumpled look that came from sitting in a plane for too long. It might have been a luxury private jet, but it was still a long flight from Vancouver to Honolulu. Poor Charlie staggered out of the jet, looking like death warmed over. She was limping, had bags under her eyes, and her hair looked like she had stuck her finger in an electric socket. She was going to stay overnight, so that she could get her prosthetic foot examined in the morning. Her stump was red and sore. She knew that she had overextended herself these past two weeks. Betsy spotted Sally over by the limousine. Overjoyed at having her friend there to meet her, she ran over and hugged her. Her greeting was so intense that she nearly knocked Sally off of her feet. In fact, Sally would have landed on the floor if Betsy hadn't held her up with a hug. Eyes glistening with tears, Betsy said, "I'm so surprised to see you here! I'm overjoyed that you came to meet my plane." "I didn't really have a choice. I've been standing here since you left. I didn't have a ride home," Sally said trying to remain straight-faced. Betsy knew better than that. She had talked to Sally nearly everyday since the rescue. It was a nice break from the other activities going on at the time. She grinned at her friend's attempt to make light of her presence there. "If you've been standing here for that long, I'll bet you're hungry." "I am. I made reservations at the steakhouse," Sally replied. "Great!" Looking forward to a nice meal at her favorite steakhouse, Betsy turned to tell the other two women to hurry up. That is when she saw Charlie struggling to get down the stairs. It was obvious that the young woman was in serious pain. Concerned, Betsy ran over to her. "What's the matter?" "There's something wrong with my prosthetic," Charlie answered. She bit her lip trying to put a little of her weight on her prosthetic. The pain was tremendous. She couldn't hide it from Betsy. "How long has it been hurting?" Betsy asked. "Just a couple days," Charlie answered, regretting it almost immediately upon seeing how Betsy's face turned red. Angry, Betsy roughly picked Charlie up. She threw the woman over her shoulder in a fireman's carry. Betsy stomped over to the waiting limousine while muttering, "She's a Marine. She's tough. She's not going to tell me that she's in pain." "Put me down! I can walk there," Charlie shouted. Betsy smacked her on the rear. She said, "Now you complain!" "Let me down!" "Big tough girl. Can't stand to be carried. Instead, she'd rather cripple herself than take a few minutes to get a problem checked out when it first manifests itself," Betsy said giving her another smack on the bottom. "Ouch!" Stacy had tried hard not to laugh while Betsy manhandled Charlie. She completely lost it when Charlie screamed 'ouch.' She laughed even harder when Charlie tried to give her an angry glare. Betsy scolded, "You are never going to do this again. At the first sign of pain, you will tell me, and we'll get you to a specialist. Do you understand me?" "I can manage," Charlie growled. Betsy smacked her on the bottom again and repeated, "Do you understand me?" "Yes." "Good. Now get in the limo," Betsy said putting Charlie down at the open door of the limousine. Charlie climbed into the limo and sat down, sulking. She was not amazed at how easily Betsy had picked her up and carried her off. She remembered how Betsy ran thirty-five miles carrying a pregnant woman on her back. Still, it had been unexpected. She rubbed her butt, amazed at how hard Betsy had hit her. That Betsy would put some real force behind those swats, was a surprise. Betsy turned to the driver and said, "We need to get her to the hospital at the Navy base." "We'll go straight there." "Good," Betsy said. While Betsy was chatting with the driver, Sally leaned into the limo and asked, "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," Charlie said. "You don't look so good," Sally said. She had seen Charlie trying to get down the stairs. Based on the way she had been moving, it was obvious that she had been in considerable pain. She didn't know Charlie all that well, but she did like the young woman. "I'll be fine," Charlie said. Ignoring Sally's conversation with Charlie, Betsy shouted, "Stacy! Get over here!" Stacy arrived a moment later. The three women entered the limousine. Betsy and Sally sat in the forward seat that faced the rear of the car with Stacy and Charlie seated in the rear seat across from them. The driver closed the door once everyone was settled in their seats. Smirking, Stacy said, "I told you so." "Shut up," Charlie growled. "I told you that you should have said something about it in Vancouver," Stacy said. Charlie was about to reply when she noticed that there was a little blood around her ankle. She glanced up at Betsy and knew that she'd blow her top if it was discovered that she was bleeding. It was time to put a little space between her and Betsy. "You're not going to the hospital with me," Charlie declared. "Yes, I am." "No, you're not." "I insist." "I refuse your insistence," Charlie said knowing that it didn't make sense, but at least got the idea across. "I reject your refusal." Knowing that Betsy could be exceptionally stubborn, Charlie tried a different tactic. She said, "You're hungry." "So?" Charlie said, "You should go eat. There's no need for everyone to sit around the hospital's waiting room with me, while I'm waiting to be seen by a doctor." "You need someone there with you," Betsy said flatly. "Stacy can go to the hospital with me." "Well..." Much to Charlie's relief, Stacy said, "That's a good idea." "I don't know." Charlie said, "The steakhouse is on the way to the hospital. The driver can drop you off." "It's just that I should..." "No. You don't have to do that," Charlie said. Stacy said, "She's a Marine. She's used to the hurry up and wait. You're good at the hurry up part, but not the waiting part." "That's a fact," Charlie said, earning a chuckle from everyone except Betsy. Undeterred by the legitimate observation, Betsy said. "It's just that I'm worried about you." "I appreciate your concern, but you don't have to sit there. I'll call you right after seeing the doctor," Charlie said. "I'd feel guilty about you waiting alone in the hospital, while I'm enjoying a meal." "She won't be alone. I'll be there with her." "I don't know," Betsy said with a frown. Charlie shouted out, "Driver. We need to stop by the Big Steak Steakhouse on the way to the hospital." "Yes, Ma'am." "Okay, I give up," Betsy said. With the traffic being surprisingly light for that time of day, the trip to the steak house did not take long. At the steak house, Sally got out of the limousine and waited while Betsy tried one last time to convince Charlie to let her go to the hospital. Giving up, Betsy got out of the limousine. The two young women stood and watched it pull away. Sally could tell that Betsy was upset. "You know ... your luggage is still at the airport. I'd bet you could order a limousine to come get you, eat while the limousine is on its way here, pick up the luggage at the airport, and still get to the hospital before she sees a doctor." Having heard stories about how long patients had to wait before being seen by a doctor, Betsy was sure that Sally was right. She smiled at how Charlie would react to her showing up at the hospital with a couple of meals to go. "I'll bet you're right." The pair of women went into the restaurant. At the hostess station, Betsy told the manager that they were in a hurry. She asked him to call for a limousine, and that it was to wait for them until they finished their meal. She then ordered a single forty-eight ounce porterhouse steak while Sally ordered the petite Filet Mignon. This was before they were even seated. Once they were seated, Sally said, "You're a lot calmer, now." "I know. It's actually taken me a little time to get used to it," Betsy said. "In what way?" Betsy struggled a little to come up with a proper analogy. Finally she said, "I guess it is a little like quitting smoking. You can get through withdrawal pretty quickly, but smoking is a habit. The habit part is a whole lot more difficult to give up than the chemical dependency. Moving around was, in part, a habit. Just like a smoker craves a cigarette when things get tense, I crave moving." "I never thought about it that way," Sally said. She had heard of runners getting addicted to 'runner's high.' She could imagine that the same kind of phenomena might be at work for Betsy. However, she never really thought of exercise as a habit, or at least a habit that had to be broken. She wondered if a better analogy might be eating. Fat people couldn't give up eating, but they had to control it. Betsy said, "My appetite isn't as big, either. I went out for breakfast the other day and ordered two breakfasts. I then had to change it down to one." "Only one breakfast? I'm impressed," Sally said. She knew that it would be a ridiculous statement if anyone else was saying something like that about anyone else. It only made sense when discussing Betsy. There were a lot of things one might say, that made sense only if discussing Betsy. Betsy said, "I'm sure other things will change a little. I just don't know what changes will come." Half joking and half serious, Sally said, "At least you'll be able to sit through class." "I never thought of that," Betsy said with the kind of smile one gets upon discovering an unexpected present under the Christmas tree. She really hadn't thought about what her ability to sit still really meant. She could move around without bouncing. It then dawned on her. She hadn't considered how she could pass less noticed by others, since she wouldn't be drawing attention to herself. Getting excited, Betsy said, "I can walk down the hall without scaring half of the people in the school." "That's right," Sally said knowing that was one of the things that bothered Betsy in the past. "I could even learn to drive," Betsy said getting even more excited. Her imagination was filling in a lot of other things she could do now that she wasn't driven to move so much. Most of it was the little things that others did without thought. She could sit and watch a sunset. "Yes, you could." "I could even find a man!" Betsy shouted exuberantly. She noticed that all the people at the tables around them were turning to stare at her. She sank down in her chair and muttered, "Not so loud, dummy." "We're going to have to work on your exuberance a little," Sally said with a grin. "I agree." Their food arrived and they started eating. It was a nice relaxed meal in which they chatted while eating at a leisurely pace. Betsy still had a tendency to wolf down her food, but she was getting better at maintaining a more human pace. Still she managed to relate most of the events of the crash, and eat twice the food Sally did. Sally listened to the story unwind, entranced by all that had happened. It was an amazing story. She knew that no one could have done everything that Betsy had done. The people on the plane were fortunate that the young woman had been on board. They were about three quarters of the way through their meal, when the manager stopped by their table. He quietly informed Betsy that her car would arrive in about ten minutes. Betsy thanked him, ordered two meals for takeout, and returned to eating. After finishing her second glass of milk, Betsy asked, "What's going on with you and Steve?" "We're talking about me moving in with him," Sally said. "That's great," Betsy said. Now that Sally had a boyfriend, she knew that her relationship with her friend was going to change. It would be a little tougher to have her over for the weekend. The young lovers would want to enjoy some activities with each other, and wouldn't need a third wheel along for the ride. Maybe if they moved in together, they could both come for the occasional weekend. It would help a little with their martial arts training. They could have a long session on the weekends, rather than try to fit in quick workouts, between school work. "I'm kind of nervous. I've never done anything like that," Sally said. Although she spent almost all of her free time with Steve, the idea of moving in with him was terrifying. It was probably much like her fear of being kissed the first time. Her concerns were based more on how good of a roommate she would be rather than a lack of desire on her part. "Why would you move in with him rather than him move in with you?" Betsy asked. It seemed to her that Sally was putting herself in a more vulnerable position by moving in with Steve than having Steve move in with her. If things didn't work out, and she was living at Steve's place, she'd be stuck without a home. "His apartment is closer to the school," Sally said. "I guess that makes sense," Betsy said. "It does, particularly since he has to walk to school," Sally said. Sighing, Betsy said, "I envy you." "Why?" Sally asked. "You've got a boyfriend," Betsy said. "You'll find a nice guy," Sally said patting Betsy on the hand to comfort her. She understood exactly how Betsy felt. There weren't many women who were her age, who'd never been kissed by a man. At twenty-four, they were discovering what other women had learned at sixteen. It wasn't easy for either of them. Sally had progressed further than Betsy, but she was still moving through uncharted territories. "I don't know," Betsy said. "Sure you will." "I'm too much of an amazon to attract men. They want thin, svelte, and sedate. I'm too stocky, too muscular, and too energetic for nice guys." "There's a perfect guy out there for you, somewhere," Sally said. Betsy leaned over and, in a whisper, said, "I don't even know how to go about looking for a guy." "I wasn't exactly looking for Steve when he came into my life," Sally said. The manager came over and told Betsy that her limousine was there. Betsy took care of the bill, while Sally finished off her food. The two women left the table, picked up the to-go meals, and went to the limousine. They stopped by the hangar, picked up the luggage, and then headed towards the hospital. They walked into the hospital and took a few moments to locate the signs directing them to the emergency room. They followed the signs without talking. There was a small waiting area where Stacy was seated. Somewhat to their surprise, she was alone. "Hello, Stacy." "Hello, Stacy." "I'm surprised to see both of you here," Stacy said. Betsy asked, "Where is she?" "She's with the doctor," Stacy answered. She was trying her best to hide her concern. She hadn't seen the blood until after they had arrived at the hospital. She had gotten even more worried by how the doctors and nurses reacted to it. Of course, she wasn't going to say a word to Betsy about it. Worried, Sally said, "That didn't take long." "It's a slow night," Stacy said. Holding up the two Styrofoam containers, Betsy said, "I brought something for you to eat." "Great," Stacy said. Her stomach growled, announcing aloud that she was very hungry. It had been at least six hours since lunch. Unlike Betsy, she hadn't eaten a snack on the airplane. Betsy handed her one of the containers. Sally and Betsy sat down. They hadn't been there for a minute when Betsy said, "This is boring." Stacy looked up from the meal she was examining. She appreciated the thought that had gone into bringing the meal, but she wasn't looking forward to eating it with plastic utensils. She'd probably break the plastic fork. She said, "I told you that you couldn't do waiting very well." "What do most people do when they are waiting?" Somewhat facetiously, Stacy answered, "They stare at the wall, and think about their problems." "Or they read something," Sally said. "I don't have anything to read," Betsy said. "Then stare at the wall," Stacy suggested with a grin. When Betsy stared at the wall with her normal intensity, Stacy and Sally burst out laughing. They hadn't really expected her to do that. Sally said, "She didn't mean that literally." "You aren't here, alone. You could talk to us," Stacy said. Worried, Betsy asked, "Is Charlie going to be okay?" "She's going to be fine," Sally said in the most reassuring tone of voice she could muster. "How do you know?" Betsy asked a little sharper than she had intended. Sally said, "She's a strong healthy woman; and she's awake, and alert. Those are good signs." "You're right," Betsy said. "You act like you've never done this before," Stacy said. Betsy shrugged her shoulders. "With Momma Kelly around, we didn't have injured people who needed to recover in a hospital. She'd have sex with him or her, and that would be the end of the matter. The only time I've ever seen anyone sick in bed, is when they were old and dying." Sally was reminded once again just how different Betsy's life had been from that experienced by everyone else. Not many kids could say that they had seen their mother save a man from a life of paralysis by having sex with him in the middle of the street. "She's not old, and she's not dying," Stacy said. "I hope you're right," Betsy admitted. Sally, wanting to change the subject, asked, "Are you going to school, tomorrow?" "I'd better. I was supposed to be away at the conference for a week, and I've been gone for more than two. I'd like to see what Henry has done with my boat, too," Betsy said. It was already Thursday. She could work all day Friday checking up on what had happened in her absence, and then fly to her home on the other island for the weekend. She'd come back early Monday morning, ready to return to work. Of course, a lot of that depended on Charlie. If Charlie ended up staying in the hospital, she'd stay here with her. A nurse came out and spotted Stacy. She walked over and then announced, "Your friend has been admitted for the night. You should be able to take her home tomorrow, so long as you have someone to watch over her. Although visiting hours are over, you can go up there for just a few minutes." Betsy held up the suitcase and said, "We have a fresh change of clothes for her." "I'm sure she'll appreciate it," the nurse said. The three women went to the room, based on the room number the nurse had given them. Betsy entered the room, glanced at Charlie's face, and stared at her stump. The bandage wrapped around the stump had a little spot of blood on it. She moved closer and bent down to examine it hoping that she might have been mistaken. She stood up and looked at Charlie with a frown on her face. "Uh, oh," Charlie said. Betsy smiled at Charlie. Somehow, Charlie didn't find the smile very reassuring. In a very pleasant voice, Betsy said, "When they think you can leave; I'll take you to my home, where everyone can tend to your every need while you're healing." "There's no need to do..." Not smiling, Betsy added, "When you're fully healed, I'll kick your ass so hard that you'll be back here for a month." "I guess I really screwed the pooch," Charlie said. "Royally," Betsy said. "It's only a little infected." Betsy asked, "Is that anything like being 'only a little pregnant?'" "Kinda." "I would think so," Sally said. "You're not helping," Charlie said shooting a glare at Sally. "Hey, I'm on her side," Sally said gesturing towards Betsy. "It's a minor infection. It's not like it is gangrene or staff," Charlie said. "When would it have turned gangrenous?" "I don't know." "Did you ask?" "No." Betsy held up the suitcase and said, "We brought you your clothes." "Thank you," Charlie said. She tried to stifle a yawn; but it escaped, loudly. "You're tired," Sally said. "It was a long day," Charlie said without mentioning that she wasn't feeling very good. Seeing that Betsy was about to unload on Charlie, Sally tugged on her arm and said, "We should let her sleep. That's nature's best medicine." "I thought laughter was the best medicine," Betsy said. "Okay, so sleep is the second best," Sally said while rolling her eyes. "We'll set your luggage in that closet over there, and then leave so that you can get your rest. Just remember, your ass is mine once you're all healed," Betsy said. "I know." Betsy put the suitcase in the closet. They left the room and took the elevator to the lobby. They didn't talk while in the elevator. Coming out of it, Betsy spotted a gift store. It was closed, but it had a lot of items on display that were appropriate for a patient. She paused to write down the telephone number, and the hours of operation. The ride to Sally's apartment was quiet. Once there, Betsy said, "I'm really pleased that you came down to greet me at the plane." "It's good to have you back," Sally said. She had been worried for Betsy even before she had left on the trip. She had worried non-stop upon learning that Betsy's plane had crashed. She didn't have enough friends to lose one. She couldn't imagine returning to the empty lonely life she had led before meeting Betsy. Sally said, "I missed you a lot." "I missed you, too," Betsy said. Sally let the polite white lie pass without comment. She knew that Betsy had been too busy to miss her. Surviving the crash had demanded all of her attention. Sally had known about the two business deals that had kept her from returning home. She imagined that Betsy had been up to her neck in details. "I'll see you at school, tomorrow," Sally said. Nodding her head, Betsy watched Sally head into her apartment complex. She sighed and said, "This had to be horrible evening for her." "She likes Charlie, and understands that her health had to come first," Stacy said. Betsy said, "She's my best friend, and I kind of ignored her this evening. I'm going to have to do something to make it up to her." "You would have felt guilty if you had ignored Charlie." "I know. Why didn't she say something when her foot first started hurting?" Betsy asked. "You were in the middle of rescuing Candice, and then you were buying the motel. She just put your work ahead of her foot," Stacy said. "She's going to have to get her priorities straight," Betsy said. "She didn't think her foot was all that big a deal," Stacy said. "You knew it was hurting her," Betsy said. "She made a couple of comments, but in kind of an offhand way. I didn't know it was that serious." "You should have told me," Betsy said. Stacy said, "You had more important things on your mind." Getting a little angry, Betsy said, "Nothing is more important to me than the health and welfare of the people in my life." "We know that." "I don't think you do. We're going to have a meeting when all of us get home. This is never going to happen again, or I really will kick some serious ass!" Betsy declared. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 5 Charlie was wheeled out of the hospital in a wheelchair. As with a lot of patients, she had argued that it wasn't necessary, except that it was. Her prosthetic was packed away in her luggage, which Betsy was carrying. Either the infection had been a little more aggressive than she had thought, or she had really been a lot more tired than she had felt. She was so weak that she was afraid that she might not be able to use the crutches she'd been given. Once they were outside, Betsy handed the suitcase to Gary. He put it in the trunk of Betsy's Oahu Island car, while Betsy picked up Charlie and put her in the backseat. Stacy came out pushing a cart loaded with the stuff Betsy had sent Charlie, in the five hours between the time when the gift shop had opened, and her release from the hospital. Fortunately, the flowers had been left with the nurses. That left the stuffed animals, the food baskets, and the balloons to be removed. Stacy hoped she had gotten everything. "Hello, Charlie," Wheels said. Happy to see a friendly face, Charlie said, "Hi, Wheels!" Wheels said, "We'll be at the airport before you know it." "I can't wait to get home." "You're staying at Betsy's until she decides you're healthy enough to be on your own," Wheels said. "That's right," Betsy said while poking her head in the car. "Oh, joy," Charlie said. "You look horrible," Wheels said with a grin. Charlie said, "I know." Betsy said, "She looks like you did when you were on my boat." "Don't mention that," Wheels said, turning pale at just the memory. Charlie laughed. Sam and Wheels were suspiciously touchy about that little adventure although several stories had made the rounds. Neither woman would step foot on the Bloated Shark for love nor money. Stacy asked, "Is that everything you ordered?" "Except for the bracelet." Holding up her wrist, Charlie said, "I'm wearing it." "Then let's close up and head home," Betsy said cheerfully. Everyone got into the car. Wheels pulled out of the parking lot, sliding into a space between two cars that looked way too small for a car of their size. With a quick jerk of the wheel, she was in the next lane and passing cars. Her total confidence in controlling the vehicle was not shared by everyone. Gary was hanging onto his seat for dear life. Stacy said, "So it wasn't your prosthetic that was the problem?" "It was a blood circulation problem. It caused a little swelling, and that rubbed against the prosthetic." "Did they fix it?" Stacy asked. "They said it should be better, but I'll have to come back and have it checked." Betsy said, "They also said that if you had gone to a hospital three days ago, that you'd have been out in two hours and would not have had a problem with infection." "I know," Charlie said. Betsy said, "We'll get you home and into bed. Alice, Sam, Wheels, Stacy, and Gary will keep you company. I know that none of them are George, but they'll have to do." "I know," Charlie said with a sigh. George had been sent to rejoin his unit in Pakistan, right after Betsy had left for her conference. Charlie hadn't heard from him since he had left, and that worried her. She knew the fighting over there was pretty intense. Even the news was covering some of the engagements. Now the United Nations forces were dealing with the most battle hardened Mujahedin remaining at large, along with some former members of the Pakistan military. The rebel forces had air cover, high-tech weapons, satellite communications, and a supporting infrastructure for essential supplies like food and medicine. More importantly, they had an extensive intelligence operation embedded within the Pakistani military, and the civilians. The United Nations commanders in charge of these operations appeared to take great delight in dropping the American forces right into the hottest spots. The American forces had a greater number of engagements with the enemy, than all other European forces combined. The troops were not pleased with that. Stacy said, "I'm sure he's okay." She wasn't going to mention that Alice was very worried about what was going on in Pakistan. She now had two sons stationed there. The Colonel in command of her older son's unit was up on charges of violating a direct order. He had sent her son's unit into an engagement in support of another group of Marines who were engaged in a firefight. He did so despite having been ordered not to do so. The relief force of Marines had kicked ass. Unfortunately, a group of civilians, individuals who were not wearing uniforms, had been delivering food to the enemy (food that had UN markings on it) when the Marines launched a four hour long mortar attack. By the time the dust cleared, there were a lot of dead and dying people there. Although none of the civilians were UN personnel, the fact was that they were 'civilians', and soldiers weren't supposed to shoot at civilians. There were rumors that her son might be one of the men charged. Betsy said, "We set up a television in your room." "That's nice." "You don't have cable, but we did buy a bunch of movies from the video store for you to watch," Betsy said winking at Stacy. Stacy snickered and said, "Some of the movies have even been rented once." "Don't tell me you got B-grade science fiction movies," Charlie said horrified at the prospect of watching low budget sci-fi films. Betsy said, "No! There are some people who actually like those. We really searched hard to select the bottom of the barrel." "I started to watch an Indian Musical. The blood was actually pouring from my ears," Gary said. "An Indian Musical?" Charlie asked, terrified at the prospect. "Don't forget the bad spoofs of the bad Kung Fu movies," Wheels said. "Those are horrible," Charlie said. "We found one of the movies where Wheels drove in a car chase scene," Betsy said. "You didn't," Wheels said. Gary said, "It was titled, 'Wheel's Lost Weekend.'" "That was one of my best movies," Wheels said, laughing. Charlie thought about it for a few seconds, then she said, "Wait a minute. There's something wrong here. When did you have time to go to a video store?" Everyone cracked up laughing. "Okay, you got me," Charlie said. Wheels pulled the car into the parking spot reserved for it at the hangar. She said, "We're here." "I don't want to be carried to the plane," Charlie said. "They have a wheelchair here. We'll wheel you over. They have a special lift to get you to door level," Wheels said. It took a few minutes but everything and everyone, including Charlie, were soon loaded into the plane. This was an executive turboprop plane, with ten seats, rather than the jet. The runway currently available for their use on the other island was just too short for the jet. The jet was also more expensive to operate for such short flights. Before they took off, Gary checked on the pilot to make sure it was someone on whom they had done a background check. Once they were in the air, Charlie looked out the window. The sandy beach, the blue water, and the gray human constructs along the beach provided an amazing contrast. She could see the waves breaking along the shore. At times it was hard to believe that she lived here. She said, "This is truly a beautiful place." "It sure is," Stacy said, thinking about how far she and her brother had come. "It's a lot different from where we grew up, isn't it?" Gary said unaware that his thoughts were in sync with Stacy's thoughts. "You can say that again," Stacy said. She and Gary had grown up in a small house, on the wrong side of the tracks; in a town that was, itself, on the wrong side of the tracks ... even for a dirt poor region of Florida. Their home town had produced criminals, police, soldiers, and priests. It was sad, but most of the people ended up being criminals. She knew every state had a district that produced hard tough people, but she felt that they had it rougher than most. It was kind of strange to think that they now lived in a part of the world that most people viewed as a luxury vacation spot. There was a time when anyone who thought of Hawaii, cast it as a tropical paradise where only the rich and famous lived. No one who had known them as kids, would ever believe that they lived here. Although she hadn't thought about them in years, she wondered what happened to the kids she had known growing up. She was pretty sure that most of them were in jail. The thought kind of depressed her. Everyone quieted down and watched out the windows of the plane. They were all lost in their thoughts. Even Betsy was thinking about the differences between Hawaii and Arizona. The only thing they had in common was sand. There was sand on the beach in Hawaii, and the sand was everywhere in Arizona. They got more rain in a week in Hawaii then they got in an entire decade, where her parents lived. The weird thing was that she appreciated both places. It wasn't a long flight from one island to the next. They landed, unloaded, and headed towards home. Charlie was definitely showing signs of being tired. The easy teasing banter that had been present on the drive to the airport had disappeared under the stress of traveling. Charlie realized that she had been in worse condition than she had thought. When they arrived, Alice and Sam were outside waiting to greet them. It had been very quiet around the large house with Betsy, Charlie, and Stacy gone for so long. They were looking forward to hearing all of the details concerning Betsy's adventures in Canada. Betsy carried Charlie into the house, ignoring her feeble protests, and laid her on the bed in the largest guest room. There were more than enough pillows on the bed to allow her to sit up comfortably. Unfortunately, in her current state there weren't enough pillows in the world to make her comfortable. Charlie said, "Give me my crutches." "You're sick. You're staying in bed." "I've got to go to the bathroom!" Betsy looked surprised at that. She hadn't given any thought to that particular issue. She grabbed the crutches and handed them to Charlie. Charlie managed to get into the bathroom. Alice came in a couple of minutes after the bathroom door had closed. "Where's Charlie?" Alice asked expecting to find her on the bed. Betsy adopted a worried expression and answered, "I think the pillows swallowed her whole." "What?" Betsy shifted a pillow around as if looking for something underneath it. Unfortunately, the sound of the toilet flushing cleared up the mystery as to Charlie's whereabouts. "I'm going to get you for that," Alice said. Charlie made it back into the bed. Almost pushing Betsy out of the way, Alice spent a minute helping to arrange the pillows so that Charlie would be comfortable. Once Charlie was settled, Alice set up a bed table tray. "What's that for?" "I made your favorite cookies. I thought you might enjoy a little milk and cookies after your long trip," Alice said. "That would be heavenly," Charlie said. Betsy asked, "Can I have some?" "No," Alice answered while winking at Charlie. "Where is everyone else?" Betsy asked not rising to the bait. "They're in the kitchen eating cookies," Alice answered. Betsy said, "I'll be right back." Once Betsy was out of the room, Alice asked, "How are you feeling?" "Tired," Charlie answered. Alice said, "You might want to nap after you eat your cookies. I've got a surprise for you around eight, tonight. You'll want to be awake for it." "Is it..." Charlie asked letting the real subject of her question hang in the air. "If I told you, then it wouldn't be a surprise," Alice said. Pretty sure that she was going to be getting a call from her boyfriend that night, Charlie said, "Okay, be that way." Alice made a couple of trips from the bedroom to the kitchen and back. She brought some cookies and a glass of milk during one trip. She then took the empty plate back on another. Once her patient was asleep, she returned to the kitchen where everyone else was seated around the table. It was nice to see everyone gathered there again. It felt like home again. Betsy pointed to an empty chair and, rather sternly, said, "Sit down, Alice." "Okay," Alice said. She grabbed a cookie and took a bite out of it. Betsy said, "I'm very unhappy and disturbed by what happened with Charlie. She was ill and didn't tell anyone. Unaware of her condition, I put a lot responsibilities on her. She chose to work instead of take care of her health. "That's wrong. I don't expect anyone to put what I need above their health. You only have one life and to destroy it over a job is ... well ... it's wrong." Everyone looked over at Gary. He said, "Betsy. We're all from a military background. The idea of putting our lives at risk in pursuit of some purpose higher than our personal desires is not that unusual." Betsy replied, "Yes, I know that everyone in this room understands sacrifice. However, my buying a motel is not some great high ideal. We could have waited a week or more to close on that deal. There was no need for her to ignore her health. "To be honest, I'm not that happy with the idea of all of you thinking that you have to protect me. Gary, you and Stacy are security, not my bodyguards. Your job is to give me adequate warning of danger. From now on, I want you to worry about getting everyone into the safe room should there be a real threat. And before you argue, I know that you both have served in the role of bodyguard, but that was to protect celebrities from rabid fans. I'm not a celebrity and the people who are likely to come after me are not rabid fans. Believe it or not, I am a servant of the Two-Sided One. That means I will occasionally be exposed to danger. It is my service and not yours. Am I clear on that?" "Yes. You're quite clear, and you're dead wrong," Gary said. "I'll second that," Stacy said. "Right or wrong, I want you to take care of everyone else," Betsy said. Wheels said, "I can take care of myself." "Same here," Sam said. "I'm not a defenseless little old lady," Alice said. "I know that, but I need the peace of mind that comes from knowing that all of you are safe, so that I can concentrate on what needs to be done." Everyone stared at her without saying a word. Betsy said, "If any of you have a health problem, please take care of it." Everyone around the table nodded their heads. Betsy took a deep breath. She said, "Now, if I ever call and tell you that bad guys are coming, I expect you to clear out of the house or hole up in the safe room. I'd really prefer if you weren't here when the bad guys show up. I don't care if they burn down the house. People are more important than things." "Okay," Gary said. Alice said, "I can accept that." Betsy stood and said, "Meeting over. I'm going swimming." Before anyone had a chance to react, she had stripped and headed out the door. No one moved until they heard the sound of the door slamming shut. Gary picked up a cookie and examined it for a second. "That was bullshit," he said. "If someone is shooting at her and I've got a gun, I'll be shooting at them." "You bet," Stacy said. "Same here," Wheels said. Stacy said, "I suggest that we do some upgrades to the defensive systems of the house." "We don't have anything for defense, except for the safe room, and that isn't really defense. Our security is pretty pathetic. All we've got are cameras, and perimeter alarms," Gary said. The perimeter alarms would let them know if anyone stepped onto the property. The cameras would allow them to watch what they were doing. The safe room could withstand just about anything anyone could throw at it. It would even survive the rest of the house getting burnt to the ground. "That's what we need to rectify," Stacy said. Alice said, "We can get Charlie to hide the cost in the budget for the security center." "It'll be a year before we get through all of the bureaucratic red tape required to get it built," Gary complained. "Charlie will take care of that. In the mean time, we'll get some remote controlled guns placed to give full coverage of the house," Sam said. "There aren't any on the market," Gary said. Sam said, "I'll build them in the garage. All we need is a couple of servos, a mounting platform, a couple of guns, and a firing mechanism. Add in a laser pen and you've got laser sights." Wheels said, "I'd help you with that." Sam said, "How about a robot?" Wheels said, "How about a radio controlled car? We could drive one of those right up to some asshole and blow him to kingdom come. There's no hiding behind a tree on that one." "Don't forget claymores," Alice said. Gary and Stacy looked at each other. They were going to have to call in some big favors to get that kind of armament. They did know people who knew people, though. It could be done. Alice snickered at the expression on their faces and said, "You can tell they were Army and not Marines." Sam said, "Hey, I was Navy." Wheels shook her head sadly and said, "It must hurt to know that you were just bus drivers, whose only value was to get Marines to where they needed to be." Alice laughed at that one. Sam asked, "Has anyone noticed the bullshit piling up around here?" ------- Betsy was swimming in the ocean releasing all of the tension that had been in her body over the past few days. She would work up some speed in the water, launch herself at the surface, and do a flip before landing back in the water. After an hour, she made her way back to shore. Bess and George, holding hands, were standing at the water's edge having watched Betsy frolicking in the water. Both were naked. George looked a little uncomfortable with how his body was reacting to Betsy's presence. It was kind of hard to ignore the evidence of his reaction. Betsy came over and hugged them both. "Hello." "Hi, Betsy. We were wondering when you were going to return," Bess said. George said, "That was quite an adventure you had in Canada." "Being in a plane crash is a pretty interesting experience. I don't recommend trying it," Betsy said with a smile. It seemed to her that everyone wanted details of what happened there. It wasn't an interesting story as far as Betsy was concerned. She just remembered running around and trying to take care of the details necessary to survive. A lot of her time was spent worrying about others. Bess noticed that Betsy wasn't bouncing around or fidgeting. She had watched Betsy's activities in the ocean thinking that Betsy was her normal energetic self. The calm young woman standing still in front of them was very different then the woman of the past. She wondered if Betsy had been injured in the crash and was still healing. As it was, it was hard to believe that the sedate young woman was Betsy. She said, "You seem a lot calmer, now." "Yes. I started my service to the Gods and Goddesses. They gifted me with the ability to be calmer." "You're a Druid?" George asked looking at her chest to see the medallion. "No. I'm not sure what I am, yet," Betsy answered, brushing a hand against the gold torque on her arm. It wasn't until she made that gesture that either Bess or George noticed the gold torque. Once they noticed it, it was hard to believe that they hadn't seen it earlier. She was naked except for the torque and it was reflecting light from the sun. It was really hard to miss. They both leaned forward to examine it, but it was like their eyes shied away from it. "That's an unusual piece of jewelry," George said. Bess asked, "Do you really have no idea what it represents?" "None." "What's your service involve?" "I have no clue." "Does anyone else have one of those?" George asked. "Not that I know of," Betsy answered. "That's a shame. I mean, if anyone else had one, you could ask them what it meant," George said. Betsy said, "I think if anyone else had one, then I'd know what it meant. I've been around Druids for my whole life." Betsy figured that she would take some time to visit the Druid College. If anyone had an idea what her service entailed, it would be someone there. At least, that is what she hoped. Of course, in dealing with the Gods and Goddesses one never knew for sure. "I'm not too worried about it. I'll figure it out one of these days," Betsy said shrugging her shoulders as if she didn't care. "I'm sure you will," Bess said. Betsy said, "I guess I ought to get back to the house now." "We'll see you later," Bess said. They watched the young woman run off. She jumped into the air and grabbed a coconut off a tree while going past it. "Some things don't change," George said. Bess looked down and pointed at his flaccid cock. She commented, "It looks like you aren't reacting to her like you used to." "I guess so," George said sadly while glancing down at his pride and joy. "It's kind of a shame, too." "Why?" "It means I'm getting old," George said. There was a time when he was younger that just the idea of a naked woman was enough to give him an erection. Now, he had just spent some time talking to a naked woman and his erection had wilted. He decided it was time to call the doctor for some special 'little blue pills.' "You're not getting old. It just means you are getting used to seeing her au natural." "What do you mean?" "Let's go up to the house. I'll explain it to you there," Bess said. George looked out across the ocean thinking about his upcoming birthday. He wasn't happy at the idea that he was getting old. Most of the time, he still thought of himself like a twenty-something. He sighed and said, "It's going to be a nice sunset, later." "We'll take another walk along the beach a little later. I think George Junior could use some loving attention, now," Bess said reaching down to stroke the subject of conversation. "You might be right," George said standing up a little straighter. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 6 The evening's entertainment came to a typical end. The curtains closed, the lights came up, the applause died, and the audience rose to make their way out of the theater. It was noisy and chaotic with individual groups of people caught up in their own conversations and actions. Engaged in their own little dramas, no one noticed the pair of young women who hadn't moved. Betsy sat there with tears running down her cheeks. "It was a comedy," Sally said. They had just watched a university performance of "The Pirates of Penzance". It may not have been a professional production, but it was the lightest funniest program Sally could find while being able to afford tickets for the best seats in the house. She knew how much Betsy dreamed of going to a live performance. She had chosen something funny because she knew that Betsy's reaction would be emotional enough that a serious story might be more than her friend could handle. "I never imagined it could be so ... fantastic," Betsy said ineffectually trying to wipe the tears from her face. "I'm happy you enjoyed it." "I've dreamed about going to a live performance for years. Thank you," Betsy said. Sally opened her purse and held out the small package of tissues she had packed in anticipation of Betsy's reaction to the performance. Tears had been inevitable. After all, Betsy had cried when Sally had presented her with the tickets. Betsy wiped her eyes and blew her nose using a couple of tissues from the packet. That Sally had anticipated her tears told her that the young woman knew her better than she knew herself. Going to the theater like this drove home just how much her life had changed. For all intents and purposes, this was an experience that Betsy had never believed would be possible. Although there were still a line of people waiting to exit the theater, Betsy said, "It looks like everyone else has left the building." "Take your time," Sally said patiently. She had informal plans on stopping by a local coffee house after the performance for a little dessert and a chance to talk about the performance. She was pretty sure that Betsy would want to talk about the sets, the actors, and the orchestra. As far as Sally was concerned, dissecting a performance was kind of a traditional thing to do. In her opinion, it was supposed to be done over coffee and dessert. Betsy finally pulled herself together, and the two women left the theater. It was late, but there were still a number of people walking around the campus. The university never really closed down. They walked to the coffee shop, and had to wait only a few minutes for a table. Sally suspected that students who had attended the performance probably went to a place on campus, while people off campus went to a higher end place. Betsy had coffee and two pieces of chocolate cake, while Sally had hot tea and a slice of Strudel. They discussed the performance, laughing about some of the funnier parts. It was a nice relaxed evening with two friends sharing a common experience. It meant a lot more to them, than it would to most, since it was one of the first evenings of the kind either of them had ever experienced. Sally paid for the treat over Betsy's protest. Although neither woman made a big deal out of the difference in their wealth, they both knew that it existed. For Betsy, the fact that Sally spent so much of her personal money on this evening only emphasized the magnitude of the gift. Sally was pleased to treat Betsy to something special for a change. The short walk to Sally's apartment was made in a leisurely manner. There were fewer people out and about at this late hour. The old married couples had gone to bed a long time ago. The regular evening dates were coming to an end. The college students at parties wouldn't be coming out until later. When they stopped outside Sally's apartment, Sally asked, "Would you like to come in?" "It's getting late. I should probably head home," Betsy answered. Sally glanced at her watch, saw that it was after midnight and said, "Wow, you're right. I didn't realize how late it was." "Time flies when you're having fun," Betsy said smiling. "It sure does." "Sally, I want you to know that this was the best night of my life. I don't think I've ever had such a good time. Thank you for everything," Betsy said finding that tears were welling up in her eyes again. "I'm so glad you enjoyed it." "It means so much to me that you ... well ... went to all of that trouble," Betsy said. "It was no trouble at all." Betsy pulled out a tissue from her purse. While wiping her eyes, she said, "Look at me. I feel like I've been crying all night long." Sally hugged Betsy. In a soft voice, she said, "That's okay." "I guess I'd better go," Betsy said, "before I really get soppy." "Good night," Sally said. "Good night," Betsy said. She watched Sally go into apartment before leaving for her condo. The Hawaiian weather was its normal glorious self. The temperature was perfect for a long walk. She gave a moment's thought to running home, but she was dressed in a skirt and low heels that would have made running a bad idea. One of the street lights was out, which was kind of odd since it had been functioning perfectly well the previous night. She knew that usually a street light started flickering or glowing dimly before going out completely. She paused to examine it and noticed some glass on the ground below the light. A man approached her from behind. She heard his measured footsteps and turned to face him. He was a slender man in his mid to late thirties. He moved with a kind of lethal grace. "Ivan sends his..." Betsy snorted and, in as mocking of a voice as she could manage, said, "It'll work better with the safety off." The man's eyes flicked to the pistol in his hand. It didn't take him a fraction of a second to verify that the safety was off. That fraction of a second was all that Betsy required. "Where the fuck did she go?" the man asked shocked that she had disappeared. "I'm behind you," Betsy answered. He spun around to face her. The kick to his hand took him by surprise. The pistol flew out of his grasp and hit the wall of the nearby building with a sharp metallic clatter, before landing on the ground with a final thud. A small worm of fear worked its way into his stomach when he stared into the eyes of the grinning woman standing in front of him. He had seen that look before on other members of his unit just before battle. "Naughty, naughty," she said. He was more than happy to get physical. He had served in a Spetsnaz unit under the control of the Russian military intelligence service GRU. He was the Russian equivalent of an American Army Ranger. He was tough, knew how to fight, and could accept incredible punishment. His training didn't matter. From the moment that he made his first move, he knew that he was outclassed. His hand hadn't completed more than half of the distance to her when the bones of his forearm snapped and he felt the jagged pain shoot up his arm. It was repeated in the other arm while his mind was trying to comprehend what had happened to his first arm. A startled cry escaped from his lips. Then both knees were taken out from under him. The cracks as the joints failed echoed loudly in the night. The next thing he knew, he was falling. His head bounced off the pavement. He regained consciousness to discover that he was lying on his back with her seated on his chest. He tried to move, but his arms and legs were useless. He had the image from a British comedy in which a knight who had lost all of his limbs was taunting his opponent that he'd bite him to death. It had been funny. Unfortunately, he was now that knight and there was nothing funny about his situation. In a conversational tone of voice, Betsy said, "I could assume that you had a deprived childhood, but I personally think that is a bunch of nonsense. You are just a very bad man." "Don't kill me," the man pleaded. Betsy said, "I won't kill you. Where would be the challenge in that?" "No challenge at all," the man stuttered. He knew that she was playing with his head. He even thought he knew what she'd do next. The whole purpose of talking to him was to get information from him. She'd do the old 'I'm going to be nice to you' before transitioning over to the 'pain will make you talk' line. Tapping him softly on his nose, Betsy said, "I need you to do something for me." "What?" "I want you to tell Ivan that his son was a monster and needed to be killed." "No way," the man said. Betsy said, "You'll tell him that." "No, I won't." "I think you will. I imagine they'll want all of the details about how you failed to take care of one little girl. I'm pretty sure that if they think you're holding anything back, that your friends will use some very inventive means to get it out of you," Betsy said. "You're right," the man said. A shiver of terror ran down his back at the idea of what they'd do to him. He knew exactly what would happen to him. He'd done things to others who had failed in similar missions. Betsy said, "I also want to you let your friends know that anyone who comes after me will spend the rest of his life flat on his back unable to move or speak. I can assure you that they'll have a long and perfectly miserable life." "God help me." Betsy said, "You know that I could do that to you right now. A tap tap to the back of your head and lifelong paralysis. I could pull your tongue out, and with a quick little jab to the chin ... no more talking. If I really wanted to do a number on you, I'd bust both of your ear drums." The man looked at her as if resigned to that fate. He was still waiting for her to start grilling him for information. There wasn't much to tell. He had been hired by Ivan to kill her and he'd already told her that. "I guess you believe me," Betsy said. "I believe you." Betsy said, "I've always had this moral debate with myself. I've always wondered if bad men like you should be allowed to breed. I could totally ruin your ability to perform right now. What are your thoughts on the matter?" "Please don't." "You see, I think that bad men like you give birth to bad men like you. A little crushing of your testicles now would save the world from having to deal with another man like you." "My boy will grow up to be a doctor, engineer, or lawyer." "A lawyer?" "Yes." "I'm not sure if that's any good," Betsy said with a smile. Like her father, Betsy did enjoy the occasional lawyer joke. Unlike her father, she didn't do it around Native Americans. She did understand the attraction that such a past-time could hold. "I'll make sure he's a doctor or engineer," the man said frantically. Betsy said, "I guess in the slim chance that your children grow up to be good people, I should leave your testicles alone." "Thank you," the man said with a lot of relief in his voice. Betsy stood up. Looking down at the man, she said, "I'm going to finish my walk. I'm sure that someone will find you eventually." "You're not going to call the police?" the man asked. He didn't want to say that he wanted the police to come. Getting arrested now would definitely reduce the amount of time he spent in pain. He had no idea what would be preferable, getting arrested quickly or lying about what happened after lying there for a while. He knew that he could always say that he was mugged by a gang of angry blacks. The cops would believe that story. Everyone knew that black gangs were everywhere in America. No one would think twice when he said that he couldn't tell one black from another. They were just black skinned, with kinky black hair. The fact was, political correctness had never reached Russia. "No. I think you need some time to contemplate your future," Betsy said. Betsy walked away. After she was a block from the scene of the confrontation, she could hear him shouting for help. She wondered what Daddy Ed would say of her treatment of him. She hoped he'd be pleased that she had shown so much restraint. Momma Ling would have just killed him outright, and have been done with it. She knew that she had caused her assailant considerable pain, but pain wasn't the same as harm. She might even have done him a favor since no one would expect him to have completed his mission if he had gotten in such bad shape in the attempt. She mumbled, "Pain is a body's way of saying there's something wrong with it. Perhaps the pain I inflicted on him, is a way of letting him know that there's something wrong with him. Who knows, he might go in for some psychological counseling." She walked a little further thinking about the situation with Ivan. She was going to have to do something about that at some point in time. He would continue to send men until someone was successful in killing her. She didn't like the idea of that much. She said, "I guess I'll call Momma Ling and Momma Claire in the morning. They'll know what to do." Having come to a decision, she walked along enjoying the night air. After arriving at her condominium, she went straight to bed. Lying in bed, she said, "All in all, this was a great day." Less than a mile away, Nikolai Glasov was in the middle of the worst night of his life. His calls for help did eventually attract some attention. The police were called and arrived in good time. They called for an ambulance to transport him to the hospital, and then went about the process of determining what had happened to him. There were no doubts about the nature of his injuries. His forearms were bent in unnatural ways. His knees looked okay until one noticed that below his knees the legs were twisted off to the side with his feet pointed the wrong way. It almost looked like he had fallen from a building. Nikolai had expected the police to accept his story that he had been attacked by a gang of blacks. Unfortunately for him, that particular area didn't have a black gang, and they didn't believe his story for one second. It didn't help when he changed his story to dark skinned youths. Their treatment of him turned just a little more callous. When they discovered his pistol only a few feet from where he was lying on the ground, the questions starting getting even more interesting. Initially, he lied about it not being his. However, when they mentioned that it was now possible for forensics to match glove patterns with patterns taken off the grip of a pistol, he was stumped. He didn't know if it was true or not, but they sounded real convincing. He then admitted that it might have been his and that he hadn't realized that his attackers hadn't taken it with them. There were a few awkward questions about why he would be wearing gloves in Hawaii, the filed off serial numbers on the gun, and his lack of a carry permit. Their treatment got even harsher once they had pulled up his arrest record. Once he realized they didn't think he was a victim, but a perpetrator, he decided that it was time to demand a lawyer. The police stopped asking questions, but stood off to the side comparing notes. They were going to have one great story to hand off to the detectives. It was a relief when the ambulance finally showed up. He expected to be loaded into it immediately, but the paramedics had to stabilize his limbs and make sure he didn't have any other injuries. It was a good half hour before he was loaded onto gurney and transported to the hospital. ------- Betsy woke the next morning in a good mood. She ran her regular Parkour route to her favorite breakfast place, ate two breakfasts, and returned to her condo via a different Parkour route. She was continuously increasing the number of routes that she could run. She knew that some of the routes were virtually impossible for anyone except her. She could cut a path across the city that would drive a pursuer insane. Anyone who tried to follow her would reach a place where they would fail in a spectacularly impressive manner. Once she arrived back at her condo she recalled her decision of the previous night to ask her mothers for advice. She stood in the living room debating which mother to call. Unable to decide, she called the Carter home and asked for either of her mothers letting the staff grab the first one available. When Claire answered, Betsy said, "Hi, Momma Claire, this is Betsy." "Hi, Betsy. How are you doing?" "I'm doing great." Claire did not buy that answer for a second. She said, "I don't think you called asking for me or Ling if everything was going great. You'd have asked for anyone of your mothers. So what's up?" Knowing that her mothers knew her only too well, Betsy answered, "I was attacked last night by one of Ivan's evil minions." "An evil minion?" Claire asked with a chuckle. "Yes." "Is he alive?" "Yes. I left his broken body on the sidewalk." "Did you report it?" "Uh, no. Should I have?" "Yes, you should have, but I understand why you didn't. It's a pain in the ass dealing with the police after something like that." "Why should I bother reporting it? He's out of the game for life. No one is going to hire a broken evil minion." Claire laughed although she knew it was true. She had this mental image of the man shooting a machine gun while seated in a wheelchair. The recoil would send him flying backwards. She said, "He could say that you attacked him out of the blue and you'll be back defending yourself against a bunch of crooks." "I didn't think about that," Betsy said. "You'll have to report it. Call a lawyer and let him deal with the police. He can claim, on your behalf, that the last time you defended yourself that you were nearly railroaded into prison for life. I'm sure enough heads are still rolling there that they'll take that statement seriously." "Okay." Claire said, "You know what is going to happen next, don't you?" "Yes. Another evil minion will show up tomorrow or the next night to try to kill me. I kind of promised to leave that one paralyzed, deaf, and dumb." "Knowing you, you'll keep that promise," Claire said with a sigh. "Ling would. To tell the truth, so would I." "I know." Claire said, "You'll need someone watching your back for snipers." "I didn't think of that," Betsy said although that possibility had been one reason for making that call. "I'll be there sometime tomorrow. I don't want you to pick me up." "It would kind of ruin the surprise if they were to learn that you were here," Betsy said. "I'm glad you understand," Claire said. "You taught me that one," Betsy said. "Can I include Ling?" "Sure. I was going to suggest that. I bet she'd love to be part of this," Betsy said. "She'll be happy to hear that," Claire said knowing that Ling would be delighted to be included in this operation. Betsy said, "Maybe you two can come up with a good way to get Ivan off my back." "We'll discuss it. We might have to talk to Ed." "I guess," Betsy said not happy about bringing her father into it. "We all know that Ivan won't stop until you or he is dead. Ed understands that," Claire said. "I hope he understands that. He tends to not like it when force is used," Betsy said. That was one of the greatest limitations of modern law. Ivan could sit in prison and order her death over and over, until someone was successful. It was virtually impossible to prevent him from doing that. Betsy had no way to defend herself from his actions. Everyone and their dog could know he was doing it, but they couldn't stop him. He had a right to talk to a lawyer, and those conversations were privileged. He could have visitors and could use a key phrase to tell them what he wanted. In Siberian prisons, men would talk about the weather, literature, or movies while using some tell, such as a gesture or touching a specific object, to let the other person select out specific words that represented the real conversation. Even if the authorities were able to prove that he gave the order to kill her all they could do was to charge him with another crime. That wouldn't prevent him from giving the order another time. "So anything else interesting happen in your life lately?" "I went to a live performance of 'The Pirates of Penzance' last night. It was wonderful," Betsy said. The two women chatted about the theater and other matters, before Betsy had to call her lawyer. She knew dealing with reporting the attack would eat up most of her morning, and that she'd be late leaving for her home on the other island. She wanted to check on Charlie's progress, and rather resented the disruption in her life that the attacks represented. ------- Nikolai woke that afternoon in the hospital after having the bones in his arms set and put in casts. His knees were still shattered wrecks and would remain that way while doctors tried to figure out how to repair the damage to them. One of the doctors described the damage as though it appeared like someone had hit it with a sledgehammer. It was mid-afternoon when Luka Klopov arrived to find out what happened. Nikolai told him, word for word, everything Betsy had said. Luka listened to the story dismayed by what he was hearing. It was hard to believe that one of the Spetsnaz could be taken apart like that. He had held a gun on her and she had retaliated with a kick to his hand to disarm him. He had tried to hit her once, receiving one blow to each forearm that broke two bones with each blow, and a blow to each knee that would likely leave him in a wheelchair for life. Luka had laughed about the trick she had played on the man concerning the safety of his pistol being in the off position. He knew that he'd have fallen for that trick just as well. Who expected anyone, particularly a young woman, to use that tactic for a distraction? He was left wondering how she managed to get behind Nikolai in the very short time his eyes were diverted. He didn't like what she promised to do to the next man who went after her. As far as he was concerned, she had proven that she could back up that threat. She was a dangerous woman. She had killed Malcolm. She had totally dismantled Nikolai. Luka knew there would be men lined up to go after her. She'd represent a challenge that they wouldn't be able to resist. He was even interested, but he'd give others a chance to go first. He wanted to see just how good she was. There would be a natural progression that wouldn't end until one of two outcomes, she was dead or Ivan was dead. It would start with men going at her one at a time. Then they would have teams of two or three men try to take her down. After that, it would be a gang of men trying to overwhelm her to the point that a specialist could move in and eliminate her. There would be the occasional sniper team. He wondered how she would do against a sniper. He left the hospital to get a report to Ivan knowing that the man was going to be furious, particularly since Betsy did not show the least bit of remorse over killing his son. She had thrown down a gauntlet and Ivan wasn't going to ignore the challenge. A detective showed up in the hospital shortly after Luka had departed. He sat down in a chair next to the bed. He made a great show of looking around the room. He said, "Hello, Nikolai." "Hello, Detective Roberts. I want my lawyer present." "Oh, Nikolai! I'm disappointed in you. I came here to see how you were doing, and you're spouting crap about a lawyer. You'd think you had done something wrong." "I'm not answering any questions." "I'm not here to ask any questions." "Bullshit." "I just came here to tell you that I learned something very interesting about you, today." "What?" Nikolai asked suspiciously. "I learned that you are Spetsnaz. I didn't know that." "What of it?" Nikolai asked. "No one is going to believe that anyone in a fight against someone with your training, could have possibly used excessive force. I've actually heard that the only way to stop one of you guys, is to kill you." "Shit!" "You should see the videos about the Spetsnaz that are available on the internet. You guys are pretty bad ass." "Okay. I'm bad ass. So what?" "Well, when we charge you with attempted murder, you better not try the poor innocent harmless me defense. Your only recourse will be to cut a deal with the DA because we've got you dead to rights." "Why tell me this?" "Nikolai, you and I have known each other for years. I've busted you four or five times and you've walked each time. "Things have changed. There aren't any crooked cops to intimidate the witnesses. There isn't a crooked judge to save your ass with bogus rights violations. There's not a DA who is bought and paid for. I just thought you might want a heads up that this time you're going down." "Fuck you!" "I just can't imagine being stuck in a wheelchair, in prison." Unfortunately, Nikolai could imagine that. It wasn't a very pretty picture. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 7 "Hello," the man said when Betsy stepped into the instrument room on the tug. He was big as a mountain, with tattoos that ran the full length of his arms. His legs were the size of tree trunks. His hair was cut short, and he had a scar on his chin that gave him the appearance that he ate small babies for breakfast. He was holding a screwdriver in his hand, which was pointed in her general direction. "Who are you?" "I'm Paul." "Well, Paul, what are you doing on my boat?" "I work for Dr. Thibodeaux." "Ah," Betsy said realizing that Paul must be the football player Henry had mentioned. He was definitely built like a football player. "What are you working on?" Paul waved the screwdriver and said, "I'm installing a heat exchange unit in the electronics rack. We've got so much stuff packed in here that it will overheat if we turn everything on." "Is heat that big of a problem?" Betsy asked. "Well, you've got at least ten boxes on this one rack, and they use around four hundred watts each. That's the equivalent of having a four thousand watt space heater in this room. You've got two racks like that, so it's the same as having two space heaters. Considering that the temperature outside can be in the nineties at times, this room will be hotter than hell, and actually dangerous to your health. "As unpleasant as that sounds in terms of being in the room, the boxes at the top of the rack have it even worse. All of the heat from the boxes below will flow to them. They can get a hundred degrees warmer than the room. It won't be fireworks, but it might be more along the lines of a fire." "That does sound like a problem," Betsy said. "It won't be, once we get the full heat exchange system installed. It will pipe much of the heat to the outside. Until then, all of this pretty equipment will be about as useful as paperweights." "When will you get done?" "I'll be done in about twenty minutes. It's going to take a while to get the cooling system installed on the roof, though. We're waiting on the installation company to confirm their schedule. They've got to fly in from the mainland. It could be anywhere from a week to a month," Paul said. "That sucks." "That's the same thing Dr. Thibodeaux said." "I'm surprised he said anything. It takes too much energy to move his mouth that much," Betsy commented. Paul laughed as he replied, "He looks and acts lazy, but don't let that fool you. He works more than anyone I've ever met. He put together a fine collection of equipment here for you. We're talking top of the line stuff. He even redesigned the controller for the submersible, and then had the manufacturer make one." "I know all about Henry and what he's capable of doing," Betsy said. Captain Jack stuck his head into the room and said, "There you are. I've been looking for you." "That's odd. I was looking for you, but found him instead," Betsy said gesturing over at Paul with her thumb. "We've got the checklist to go over," Captain Jack said. The checklist was an itemized list of all modifications to the tugboat that were required to transform it from a tug to a research vessel. While a good percentage of the work had been done while it was in dry dock, there remained much to be done yet. This included extending sleeping quarters to accommodate researchers as well as crew, installation of the heat exchangers and other electronics, and the creation of a laboratory workroom. Betsy said, "Where do you want to do this?" "In the workroom," Captain Jack said. Betsy followed Captain Jack to the workroom. The notebook containing all of the changes was on a table along with detailed plans of the tugboat. The table was a folding table that was used only when in port as a temporary measure until the room was properly furnished. They sat down in the folding chairs across from each other. "You're fortunate that this boat was built before the fusion cell was invented. When they converted from diesel to fusion cell, it freed up a lot of space below deck. The diesel engine was replaced by an electric motor. The fuel tank space was filled with additional ballast. Since the boat's use has changed, we're able to remove some of that ballast to make space for the submersible without sacrificing the stability of the boat very much. "The first deck is now entirely crew quarters, with a kitchen. The second deck is being converted over to laboratory and relaxation space. The top deck is my domain, and you aren't touching it." "I know all that," Betsy said. She had wanted the laboratory on the first deck where it would be easy to take samples. However, Captain Jack had correctly pointed out that having the crew positioned so that they could get immediately to the deck from their quarters in the event of an emergency was far more important than having the research space easily accessible. When put in safety terms like that, Betsy found it impossible to argue. "The work on the first deck is nearly complete. They finished installation of the cabin walls yesterday. Every cabin is large enough for two beds, a table, and two closets. The space is tight. You know that old saying about 'not being able to swing a cat in the room without hitting a wall and seriously irritating the cat?'" "Yes." "Well, you can't even enter those rooms with a cat," Captain Jack said, earning a chuckle from Betsy. "We knew it was going to be tight," Betsy said. "I've kept one cabin large enough for me to live in, as this tugboat is now my home." Betsy said, "We agreed on that, earlier. Why are we covering old ground?" "It's not too late to make a few modifications," Captain Jack said. "Like what?" Betsy asked. "Like increasing the space in a cabin or making another cabin below deck." Betsy said, "Why would we do that? Captain Jack didn't know how to say it in a manner that wouldn't be taken offensively, so he laid it out bluntly. "You're rich. You are used to big hotels. You aren't going to be happy sleeping in a closet. I just don't want to hear any complaints about not having room in quarters. I'd rather make the changes now then sometime in the future." Betsy laughed. "Is that what this is about?" "It's a reasonable concern," Captain Jack said. "You don't know much about my family, do you?" "Not really. I know that you're among the richest people in the world." Betsy said, "Have you ever seen a Homeless Hotel?" "Yes." Betsy said, "Like all of my brothers and sisters, I was supposed to spend summers working at them when I was a teenager. The only problem was that I was a little too hyperactive to be let loose there. Instead, my parents sent me to work as a volunteer at a shark research facility in California. Although I didn't have to work summers at Homeless Hotels, my parents required me to stay at them when Happy Harry was around. "I've even chosen to stay in Homeless Hotels over regular hotels on many occasions in the past. You might say that it is a family tradition that we spend the night in one if we are in a town for an extended period of time. I've done exercises around the fires at night listening to stories told by some really remarkable people. I know the Angel of Chicago, the Duke and Duchess of Dallas, and Bottlecap in the Pittsburgh Homeless Hotel. I've slept in sections of sewer pipe, on the same wooden planks that they use as beds. I've even cleaned the sections of sewers after folks have been sick in them." "I wasn't aware of that," Captain Jack said surprised to learn that about her. "If you think that I'm a spoiled little rich bitch, you're wrong. If I had wanted to, I could have bought a retired Soviet cruiser instead of the Bloated Shark and fitted out the front half of it as my living quarters. I bought this tugboat because it fits our needs perfectly. "It is a research vessel for use around the Hawaiian Islands, not for spending months at a time on the ocean. We're going out, at most, for a week to ten days at a time. We can spend our evenings in the common area telling stories, singing songs, watching movies, or reading books. People can put up with tight quarters, particularly if all they are doing is sleeping in them. You don't have to worry about me making a fuss about space." Captain Jack said, "Others might not be that understanding of space shortages." "We will let them swim along side of the Bloated Shark until they get so tired they won't even notice where they're sleeping," Betsy said with a smile. "Okay," Captain Jack said somewhat hesitantly. He wasn't sure if she was serious about that threat. There were times when she said things like that and he had discovered later that she had been completely serious. "Is there anything else?" Captain Jack said, "Sure. We're working on the second deck. I want you to double check the plans to assure that everything is being done correctly." For the next two hours, Betsy and Captain Jack went over the hundreds of little details that had been identified. Creating a laboratory aboard a boat was much more work than in a building. A boat moved with the waves. It rocked, rolled, yawed, and pitched. Loose items could, and would fly, all over the place when the motions got rough enough. An unattended laptop could fall to the floor and break, when the boat was hit by an unexpected wave. The only thing that could be counted upon, was that there were going to be unexpected waves ... particularly, in a storm. Betsy went through each item one at a time. How much shelf space would be needed? How deep should the tables be? Would they have to work during storms? What if a submersible was in the water when a storm hit? It was mind numbing to try and address all of the situations that could arise. When they were finished, Betsy went outside. She leaned against the railing looking out over the harbor. Her mind turned to her personal, life and she immediately thought about Paul. Paul was definitely big and strong enough to put up with her occasional bursts of energy. They could probably even wrestle a little without there being too much of a chance of him getting injured. He wasn't that great looking, but he wasn't ugly. He had to be smart to be working for Henry. In a way, he was kind of an ideal man for her. She smiled at the idea of dating him. She headed towards the equipment room to attempt a little harmless flirting. The smile on her face disappeared upon seeing the woman standing beside Paul. "Who are you?" Betsy asked. "This is Sue. She's my girlfriend," Paul said. "Sue, this is Betsy. I guess you could say that this is her boat." Betsy looked at Paul. He was a mountain. She looked at Sue. She was a mouse. She looked at Paul trying to imagine him being with Sue. She couldn't imagine it. "Aren't you afraid of breaking her?" Betsy asked trying not to sound disappointed that he was already taken. "What?" Paul asked. "You're big; and she's ... like ... tiny," Betsy said. "And?" "Aren't you afraid of breaking her?" Betsy asked. "No," Paul said. Sue said, "He's the gentlest man I've ever met." "I'm sure he is," Betsy said. She couldn't help wonder how they wrestled and played. He could crush her just by sitting on her. She could see herself snapping her in half without much effort. Paul asked, "Did you need anything?" "I just stopped by to see how it was going," Betsy said trying to hide her disappointment. She was thinking that her first attempt at getting a boyfriend wasn't working out that well. In fact, it was a miserable failure. "It's going great. I've finished for the day. We were about to head out for dinner," Paul said. "Okay. I'm going now," Betsy said. "It was nice to met you," Sue said. "Same here," Betsy replied before beating a hasty retreat. A very short time later, Sue and Paul stepped out to the ladder. Sue spotted Betsy standing on the dock facing a man. The man was holding a gun on her. "Paul, I think that man is robbing her." Paul was about to rush down the stairs to rescue Betsy when there was a gunshot. A bullet ricocheted off the side of the boat a few feet from his head. He froze. Sue screamed while he stared in shock at the events unfolding below. Betsy had dodged the bullet and then kicked the gun out of his hand before her assailant had a chance to fire a second shot. The gun flew over his head and landed about thirty feet behind him. She launched herself, feet first, against the wall of the building next to where she was standing. She planted her feet on the building, launched herself and twisted around so that she landed on the ground behind him. He was still turning to face her when she hit him across the side of his neck with a sharp double tap that fractured the C-4 vertebra. While he was still falling, she slammed her cupped hands against his ears. He screamed in terror knowing what else was about to befall him. He had heard of what she had promised and he had no doubt that she was delivering it. She pulled out his tongue and then hit his jaw with a blow from below. She tossed the little bit of tongue in the water. Once he was on the ground, she rolled him over onto his stomach to keep him from choking on his own blood. From his position above the action, Paul was stunned by what he had witnessed. He didn't think the entire confrontation had lasted more than four seconds. Betsy was standing almost directly on the spot where she had been before the gunshot. Sue's scream had cut off about the point that Betsy had rolled the man onto his stomach. She asked, "Did she kill him?" "I don't know," Paul answered. Betsy stepped back and punched a first in the air as she shouted, "I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! I can dodge a bullet! I told her that I could, but did she believe me? Noooo!" Sue asked, "Did she really dodge the bullet?" "It sure looked like it to me." "Did you ever see anything like that?" "No." "Me neither." Betsy got out her cell phone and placed a call to her lawyer so that he could report the incident to the police. The bad guy wasn't going anywhere and he wasn't actually injured in a manner that was life threatening. Captain Jack had been up in the bridge and had a clear view of all that was happening. He had already called the police even before the shot was fired. Before anything had happened, he wished that he'd had a video of what was happening just to make sure that the bastard with the gun would go to jail for life. Afterward, he wished he had a video of what happened thinking it was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. Knowing that the police were on their way, Captain Jack headed down the stairs to get to where Betsy was. He wanted to find out if she was okay. He knew that he'd have to answer any questions the police might ask. He found Paul blocking his way. "Let's see if she's okay." Paul nodded and slowly headed down the stairs. Captain Jack followed him. Sue held back and then decided she didn't want to be alone there. She followed the two men down the stairs and onto the dock. Betsy was on the phone when they reached her. Rather than interrupt, they stood there listening. "I broke another evil minion, Momma Claire." They couldn't hear what the person on the other end of the phone was saying, but it was pretty obvious by Betsy's face that it must have been funny. Sue cracked a little smile upon hearing the bit about an evil minion. "Yes, I reported it. I called the lawyer right after it happened," Betsy said. There was a long moment of silence while Betsy listened to Claire. "Could you do one thing for me?" Betsy asked. After a moment of silence, she said, "Tell Momma Ling that I can dodge a bullet. She should have let me practice doing that when I was younger. He put a hole in my shirt sleeve." Captain Jack paled when Betsy held up her shirt sleeve. There was a nice little bullet hole though it. From the way she was holding up her arm, the hole was heart high. "He was aiming dead center of my chest at five feet," Betsy said. "I'd still like to practice it." Paul was staring at her in disbelief. She actually looked disappointed that the person on the other end of the call was arguing against dodging bullets. He looked at Sue and whispered, "Can you believe this?" "No," Sue answered staring at Betsy like she was some sort of life form from a distant planet. Stamping her foot, Betsy said, "We can use rubber bullets. Think about it." The sound of sirens filled the air. Captain Jack, Paul, and Sue all tensed up. Betsy looked down the street and frowned. "I better go. I hear the police coming," Betsy said. After closing her cell phone, Betsy looked at Paul and then at Sue. With an expression of honest curiosity on her face, she asked, "Aren't you afraid of breaking her?" "No," Paul said shaking his head. "I would be." Sue said, "If he were you; I would be afraid, too." "Oh," Betsy said with a frown. A whole herd of police cars arrived on the scene. With screeching tires, they parked in a manner that blocked almost all access to the dock. There were cars from every branch of law enforcement on the island. A harbor patrol boat even pulled up to the dock. "It looks like everyone is here," Betsy said. Police exited their cars looking a lot like hornets flying out of nest that had been disturbed. Most took up positions to control access to the area. A group headed towards Betsy. They found the gun before they found Betsy. An officer stood by it while the rest continued to head towards her. One officer stood over the man on the ground. The rest continued on to talk to her. The four were quickly separated and interviewed about their recollections of the incident. The stories were all the same. He fired at her, she dodged the bullet, she leaped onto the building, hit him in neck, slapped his ears, and then lowered him to the ground. No one knew when he had lost his tongue. When Betsy was asked what happened to his tongue, she had pointed to the water and suggested that a fish might have eaten it. There was a huge conference while the officers compared notes. Each time one of them reported that a witness saw Betsy dodge the bullet, all of them would turn to look at Betsy. She would wave at them and smile. A new face appeared on the scene, and spent a few minutes talking to the gathered policemen. He frowned and went over to the man still on the ground. The paramedics were putting a neck brace on him. "Hello, Detective Roberts," Betsy said. "Hello, Betsy. I see you had a little encounter with one of Ivan's men," he said. "I don't know who he works for, but he tried to shoot me," Betsy said. "Fortunately, I ducked." He reached over and tugged on her shirt sleeve. "Nice hole you got there." "I know. He ruined my shirt," Betsy said. "You know I'm going to have to take it into evidence," he said. Betsy said, "Okay." When she started pulling it off, he said, "We'll get it, later." "That's fine," Betsy said. Detective Roberts said, "I heard an interesting jail house rumor, yesterday." "I was in jail for a week and nobody told me a single rumor. Should my feelings be hurt?" Betsy asked. He had to turn away to get control over his facial expression. He was half tempted to tell her that her feelings should be hurt, but he resisted the temptation. He turned back to face her. "The rumor said that the next person who tried to kill you would end up paralyzed, deaf, and dumb." "That sounds more like a prophecy than a rumor," Betsy said. "It sounds like a promise that was delivered." "Interesting. I can see how it would seem that way," Betsy said. "I'm just wondering how many Russians we're going to find in this condition over the next few days, weeks, or months," Detective Roberts said. "That's not up to me, is it?" Betsy asked in a very serious voice. "I guess it isn't," Detective Roberts said with a sigh. "That's right." He said, "This one is going to draw all of the crazies who want to prove something by taking out the woman who took down two Spetsnaz." Captain Jack swore, "Jesus! They're cold blooded killers." "They were Spetsnaz?" asked Betsy. "Yes." Betsy looked a little disappointed as she answered the unasked question, saying, "I thought they were better than that." "I thought so, too," Detective Roberts said. It made him wonder how it could be that Betsy was so much better. He looked down at the ground for a second, considering the possibilities. There was only one that made much sense to him. The idea of it bothered him. He asked, "You wouldn't happen to be a Druid, would you?" "No, but I do serve the Two-Sided One," Betsy said. She rolled up her sleeve to show him the gold torque on her arm as she added, "That was placed there by the Two-Sided One. It won't come off." The three people from the boat all took a small step back. The Two-Sided One was the scariest of the Gods and Goddesses. Paul put an arm around Sue. He pulled her closer to him in a protective gesture. She looked up at him gratefully. "If you aren't a Druid, yet you serve the Two-Sided One, then what are you?" "I don't know," Betsy answered. "Oh, great! I've got a Druid, who isn't a Druid, getting chased by a Russian upstart mob of Spetsnaz. This is not going to be good." "I agree," Betsy said. "You need to do something to stop it." "Me? How can I stop it? The only way it can end is when you or Ivan dies. I'm not an assassin," Detective Roberts said. "My Daddy Ed had a suggestion. You might not want to hear it, though." "What is it?" Betsy said, "Call up your counterpart in Russia, and tell him what is going on here. Let him know that members of a Russian mob are trying to fuck with a servant of the Gods and Goddesses." "That would be a great idea if I knew who my counterpart in Russia is," Detective Roberts said. "I can't help you with that, although I bet a number of Russian gangsters know." "I'll make some calls." Betsy said, "Could I ask you a question?" "Sure." "Would you look at him and her for a second?" Betsy asked pointing to Paul and Sue. Detective Roberts examined the young couple. The guy was tough looking and not very good looking. She was a sweet little thing and quite cute. He didn't seen anything unusual in that pairing. "What?" "If you were built like him, wouldn't you be afraid of breaking her?" "No." "I would," Betsy said. "That doesn't surprise me. I imagine that if you and he were dating, he'd be afraid that you'd break him." Betsy said, "I didn't want to hear that." "It's the truth," Detective Roberts said. "It sure is," Paul said. "Can we go?" "Sure," Detective Roberts said. "Sue and Paul, would you like to go to dinner with me at the Big Steak Steakhouse? My treat." "I kind of eat a lot," Paul said thinking it was a reasonable way to decline the invitation. "No problem," Betsy said. "They've got a forty-eight ounce steak that is the best on the island." "I don't know," Paul said. Sue said, "We were on our way to eat before all of this happened." "If you want to, we can." "You've always wanted to try one of their steaks." Betsy said, "You can have two. That's what I'm getting." Sue looked from Betsy to Paul, and then said, "I'd like to see that." "Okay," Paul said. Fifteen minutes later, Betsy ordered, "I'll have two of the forty-eight ounce Porterhouse steaks cooked medium, one baked potato with butter and extra sour cream, one baked sweet potato with butter, sugar, and cinnamon, and two salads smothered with Thousand Island dressing ... four glasses of milk." Sue smiled and said, "He'll have the same as her. I'll have a salad with grilled shrimp." Betsy leaned over and said, "Order anything you want. If you can't finish it, I will." "That's what I wanted," Sue said. "Okay." The waiter left to submit their order to the chef. Betsy looked around the restaurant. It seemed to her that every table was filled with couples. She didn't understand it. "Sue, can I ask you a question?" Sue replied, "I'm not afraid of him breaking me." "I've got a different question." "Sure. Ask away," Sue said. "How did you land him?" "What?" "How did you land him?" "Why do you want to know that?" Sue asked. Betsy said, "I've never had a boyfriend and I'm curious about how to get one." Sue glanced towards the kitchen wondering when their food was going to be ready. She had a feeling it was going to be a long evening. "Just be you. The men who are attracted to your type will come to you," Sue said. "That shouldn't be so tough," Betsy said. She was thinking she hadn't ever acted like anyone else and hadn't been that lucky in attracting a man so far. There had to be some trick she didn't know. She figured that maybe a different approach in her questioning might provide some better answers. Betsy asked, "So how did you meet?" "We were in the same class and were assigned to work on a project together." "What were you wearing?" The questions came fast and furious. Sue was often left with her mouth opening and closing without saying anything. The young couple was ultimately saved by the arrival of their meal. Sue watched in fascination as Betsy and Paul savagely attacked their steaks. Betsy finished her steaks first and was studying the dessert menu by the time Paul finished eating. It was obvious that Paul had really pushed to finish the steaks, but there was a bit left on the second one. He had left all of the sides uneaten. Sue had eaten most of her salad and shrimp. It then dawned on Sue that less than two hours ago, Betsy had easily destroyed an armed man with her bare hands. She had then spent most of the time after that, trying to get dating advice from her. It was surreal. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 8 The crack of a high powered rifle firing was clearly heard above the din of evening traffic. A second later, there was another shot fired. The majority of people didn't even appear to notice the sounds. A handful of students stopped and looked around, before deciding that it had been nothing. Betsy sighed. "First the sniper, and then the spotter. Scratch two more evil minions," Betsy muttering her interpretation of the two shots. Rather than returning home to her condo, Betsy headed towards the beach. She felt like taking a little walk along the water. When she reached the beach, she stood there looking out at the water, wondering how much longer this war was going to last. So far there had been three one-on-one attacks, a two-on-one attack, and now a sniper team. She turned away from the ocean, feeling sad about what she had been forced to do so far. "Hey, Babe, do you surf?" "A little," Betsy answered. She turned to examine the young man standing next to her. He was deeply tanned with the long, lean build of a swimmer. He was wearing baggy shorts, a loose tee-shirt, and sandals. His sandy brown hair was sun bleached. He was gazing out at the ocean with a far away look in his eyes. Everything about his appearance screamed: 'surfer.' "The surf will be killer, early next week. There's a storm system developing that will push some really great waves this way," the guy said. "I heard that, too. I was wishing I had brought my board to the island," Betsy said. "You don't have it here?" the guy asked surprised by that little revelation. "It's at my parents house," Betsy said It was strange that she was living in Hawaii and hadn't even given a thought to surfing. The surf board she had bought when studying in California was back in Arizona, where there was absolutely no chance of using it. "Where do you live?" "I live on Kauai." "So you're just visiting here, today," the guy said. "I'm a student. I live here during the week, and go home on the weekends," Betsy answered. "I'd have a board at both places, if I were you." Betsy said, "That's not a bad idea. Where's a good place to pick up a board around here?" "You want mass produced or custom?" "Custom," Betsy said. "There's a guy just up the way who makes a damned good board. He made mine." "What's your name?" Betsy asked. "Dale. Yours?" "Betsy." "Nice to meet you, Betsy." "Nice to meet you, Dale. Let's see a guy about a surf board." She followed him up the beach and then a couple of blocks from the beach to a rather run down area. It was a low rent area with houses that were long past their prime. She could smell the place they were headed to before they even reached it. Dale stopped outside of a small garage attached to a house and listened to the compressor running inside the garage. "H's working on a board," Dale said. "I noticed," Betsy said looking around. There were about a dozen lawn chairs scattered around in front of the garage. A couple of tiki torches were set up to cast some light on the area. A trashcan that was half filled with empty beer and soda cans was next to the garage. It looked like the kind of place where a bunch of friends would hang out, talking. "I don't know what he's doing, but it's probably not a good idea to go inside," Dale said. "It smells like he's painting," Betsy said. Dale pointed to a chair and said, "I'm sure he'll be done in a few minutes. We might as well make ourselves comfortable. Would you like a beer?" "I'll take a soda if there is one," Betsy answered. Dale went over to an ice chest and rummaged around in it. He pulled out a drink and said, "It's not diet." "That's fine," Betsy said with a grin. She was sure that he wouldn't be able to imagine how many calories she could burn in a day. While a soda was basically calories with no nutritional benefits, they were a drop in a bucket compared to what she normally consumed in a day's time. He tossed the can of soda over to her. She caught the ice cold beverage thinking that whoever owned this place went to a lot of trouble to make sure that visitors could have an iced cold drink. Dale removed a beer from the cooler and then closed the lid securely. He opened the beer. It sprayed a little. He sat down on the chair next to hers. Holding up his beer, he said, "Cheers." "Cheers," Betsy said holding up her can. "Sanders makes pretty decent boards. He came back from California and bought this place. He's got a job with the state doing something with fish. He makes boards in the evening." Betsy wrinkled her face in thought for a second. She asked, "Is Sanders a tall lanky guy with brown hair?" "You know him?" Dale asked looking surprised. "I think he was the guy who helped me pick out a board when I was first learning how to surf," Betsy said. Dale said, "It sure is a small world." "It is, at that," Betsy said. "He'll be out in a couple minutes." "No problem," Betsy said. Her voice sounded unnaturally loud as the sound of the compressor stopped in the middle of her reply. A few moments later, the side door to the garage opened and Sanders stepped out. He couldn't see Betsy from where he stood. "Dale! Mom is going to kill us both if she sees you drinking another one of my beers." Dale grinned and said, "Chill out. She's at home, Sanders." "A whole four houses up the street." "It's not like I'm breaking the law." Sanders said, "You know what she says. You have to buy your own beer until you get a job that lets you move out of her house." "I've got a job." "Selling souvenirs to tourists isn't a real job." "Sure it is," Dale said. "Every time the surf is up, you close up shop and go surfing. You can't make a living that way." Amused, Betsy listened to the exchange. It kind of reminded her of the interaction between William and Eddie. Looking at the two men, it was obvious that they were brothers. "I brought you a customer." Sanders looked over at Betsy and smiled. "Betsy 'the Shark' Carter! Are you still swimming with sharks?" "You bet," Betsy answered. "What are you doing here on the islands?" Sanders asked. "Going to school," Betsy answered. Sanders said, "You're going to the school down the street?" "That's right." "I heard they've got a new research boat." "That's mine," Betsy said. "Sweet. I'll have to stop by and take a look at it." "Let me know when you're coming and I'll give you the grand tour," Betsy said. "I'll do that." Sanders went over to the ice chest and pulled out a cold beer. He opened it and took a long draw from the can, while watching Betsy. He said, "You sure seem a lot calmer, now.". "Yeah. It's a long story." "That's cool. You can tell me about it, sometime." "So, you're working for the state?" Betsy asked. "They've got me analyzing commercial fishing data," Sanders answered. "It's a boring job that pays for this place, and gives me flexible enough hours to get in a little surfing." "I'm sure you appreciate the flexible hours. I know how much you enjoy surfing," Betsy said. "I live to surf," Sanders said. "Which one of you boys dragged in the beach bunny?" a woman's voice asked from the street. "Hi, Mom," Dale said while hiding his beer can. Pointing a thumb in the direction of their mother, Betsy asked, "Did she just call me a beach bunny?" "Don't be offended. She calls all of the girls we know that," Dale said, sitting back in his chair now that his beer can was out of sight. The woman said, "That's because all the girls you know are beach bunnies." Sanders said, "Come on over and sit a spell, Mom. I want you to meet, Betsy 'the Shark' Carter." Dale said, "Betsy, this is our Mom. Everyone calls her, Cat, even though her name is Karen." "Why does everyone call her Cat?" Betsy asked. "It's a long story, Bubbles, and you won't be around long enough to hear it," Cat said. More than a little irritated, Betsy said, "Well, one night when all of us beach bunnies aren't out doing beach bunny things, you might tell me the story." Sanders said, "Be nice, ladies." Dale said, "She's here about buying a surf board." "Two. One for here and one for home," Betsy said. "You want two boards?" Sanders asked. "Yes," Betsy answered. "Do you even know how to surf?" Cat asked while rummaging around in the cooler for a beer. Sanders said, "I helped her get her first board in California. She's a pretty decent surfer." "Oh. You two have known each other for a while?" "Yes," Betsy answered. Cat popped the top on the can of beer and took a long swallow. She studied Betsy for a second, trying to decide if she should even bother getting to know her. Her sons were always bringing home horny young women who were visiting Hawaii on their one week vacation. There was no telling how many of them didn't take adequate precautions. She figured that she was probably a grandmother twenty times over by now. She asked, "How did you meet?" Sanders said, "The first time I met her was when a shark came up to the beach where I was surfing. This huge fin appeared in the water about three hundred yards from shore. Suddenly every surfer out there was paddling like hell for shore. That shark just kept coming and coming. "I think everyone of us in the water had visions of being the poor slob on the evening news describing how he got bit by a shark. Finally, the shark was in water that was knee deep. People were running around, screaming and shouting while pointing at the shark. Betsy pops up out of the water right next to it and pats the shark on the head. It turned around and swam off." "Bubbles was lucky she didn't get killed," Cat said. "Bubbles?" Betsy asked in a low growl. "What was the name of that shark?" Sanders asked. "That was Charlie. He was a nice little eleven foot Short-fin Mako. He was a magnificent specimen, about fourteen years old." Moving his chair back an inch, Dale said, "You named him, Charlie?" "You should have seen him feed. I was with him once when he ran into a school of fish. That was intense," Betsy answered. Sanders said, "You keep saying 'he was.' What happened to him?" Betsy said, "Some asshole caught him. I was visiting one of the piers, and found him hanging on a hook. I knew it was him by the scar on his side." "I'm sorry to hear that. You liked Charlie," Sanders said. "I was pretty down about it for a while. After all, I swam with him, off and on, for about six months," Betsy said. "You swam with a Mako shark for six months?" Cat asked. She was half tempted to get out her cell phone and look up the number of the local hospital. She was sure they had padded rooms there. There was something wrong with this girl. "There's no way. Makos are the most dangerous sharks in the water," Dale said. Waving a hand dismissively towards his brother, Sanders said, "There's a reason she's called Betsy 'the Shark' Carter. She was always swimming with sharks." "That's why I'm here. There are a number of Makos around the islands. It's like this is a rest stop on their travels across the Pacific. I figure I'll get some genetic samples and tag some of them. I'll see if they behave any differently, here, than on the California coast." "That's real interesting," Sanders said. Betsy took a sip of her soda. Cat noticed that she wasn't drinking beer. Most of the women that the boys brought home, would sit and drink beer until they passed out. She wasn't sure if the absence of beer was a good thing or not. She hoped that the lack of beer wasn't because Betsy was taking medications for mental problems. There was a screech of brakes from the street, the sound of a car backing up, and another screech of brakes as the car came to a halt at the curb. Everyone looked over at the source of the noise. Dale said, "Isn't that Neil?" "I wonder what he wants," Sanders said grinning at his mother. Dale said, "Let's see. Mom is here, and he stops here. When Mom is at home, he stops there. Hmm ... Mom, do you want to tell us something?" Primly, Cat said, "I'm a respectable widow." Neil walked up the driveway and stopped by the ice chest. After rummaging around in it for a minute, he pulled out a beer. He popped the top and took a long sip. Earning a disapproving look from Cat, Detective Roberts said, "Betsy Carter! I thought that was you sitting here." "Hello, Detective Roberts. Fancy meeting you here." "It's a small island." He sat in a chair next to Cat and took another sip of beer. He started to reach for Cat's hand; but, noticing the look from Dale, put his hand on the armrest of his chair. Cat asked, "Do you know each other?" "Yes. I was just thinking about her while driving home from work." "Is that a fact?" Betsy asked. Detective Roberts answered, "Yes. You've been on my mind quite a bit lately. By the way, you wouldn't happen to know anything about a Russian sniper and his spotter that were found dead about an hour ago?" "She was with me an hour ago," Dale said. "We haven't established the time of death yet," Detective Roberts said watching Betsy closely hoping to catch some kind of reaction from her. Cat asked, "How do you know they were Russians?" "We've had a problem with Russians turning up injured, maimed, and dead, lately." "How do you know they were snipers?" Betsy asked. "They were set up to shoot someone. Based on flawless logic, and considerable reasoning on the part of a particularly brilliant Hawaiian detective, it was found reasonable to assume that they were there to kill a certain young woman going to the local university," Detective Roberts answered. Dale said, "You're kidding. We've got Russian snipers in Hawaii?" "Yes. At least, we had them, until an hour or so ago." "This wouldn't happen to be because she's a member of the Carter Clan, would it?" Sanders asked earning a surprised look from Dale and Cat. "I think it is due to the fact that she killed the son of a local Russian gangster," Detective Roberts said. Cat, Dale, and Sanders turned to stare at Betsy. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "He drugged me and tried to rape me. In my drugged state, I said no a little more forcefully than was good for his health." "He deserved to die," Cat said. Snorting disdainfully, Sanders said, "He must have been a real idiot to try and do that to Betsy. Her mother and her are 'Grandmasters' in the martial arts." His mother looked at him and then over at Betsy. It appeared to her that Sanders knew an awful lot about Betsy. "He was an idiot," Detective Roberts said. "His father isn't any smarter. When I told him about Betsy's special friend, he told me to have sex with myself." "What friend?" Cat asked. "The Two-Sided One," Betsy said. "That's a good friend to have," Cat said sizing up Betsy for a future role as daughter-in-law. She was rich, smart, able to take care of herself, and friends with a God. Everyone one of those items was on her short list of characteristics she'd like in a daughter-in-law. The bit about swimming with sharks was a negative; but that could be overlooked, or perhaps treated with the proper medications. She looked at Dale, and then at Sanders, trying to figure out which one Betsy might pick. "Did you manage to contact your counterpart in Russia?" Betsy asked pointedly. "I talked to him, yesterday. He found the whole situation quite humorous." He was kicking himself for not locating and contacting his counterpart in Russia earlier. He might have been able to prevent two deaths and a couple of mangled bodies. He knew it was stupid not to act on advice given by a Druid however indirectly that advice had been routed. "He's got your sense of humor," Betsy said earning a dirty look from him. "He said it was so funny that he was going to tell everyone he knows what a dip-shit Ivan is," he said. "I didn't know that dip-shit was a Russian word," Betsy said. "Yes. The translator actually used the word dip-shit," he said earning a chuckle from Cat. Betsy said, "You said that he plans on telling that story to everyone. You don't think that includes some of his criminal contacts, do you?" "Undoubtedly," Detective Roberts said confident that Betsy knew exactly what would be the consequence of that. Ivan's superiors in Russia would be very unhappy to learn that Druids might get involved in their business once again. Every time they tried to establish a foothold in this country, they ended up running afoul of the Druids. They would get chased out of America. They all dreaded the day when the Druids brought the fight to Russia. Ivan was not going to survive their displeasure. Russian gangsters tended to punish transgressions in very extreme ways. They didn't stop their retaliation with just the guilty person, but would do in their family and, if necessary, their friends to make a point to everyone who survived. There would be some unhappy people here, too. Things got politically messy when there was a particularly gruesome death in a jail cell. People would want an explanation as to how something like that could happen. After all, everyone knows that anyone in jail, with the possible exception of the guards, was a nice person who wouldn't hurt a fly. Betsy said, "I bet people are laughing all over Russia." "I'm sure there are a few who aren't laughing." "I am sometimes surprised at how many people do not have a sense of humor," Betsy said shaking her head sadly. Cat nudged Sanders with her elbow and said, "I like her. She's not one of your beach bunnies." Sanders looked at his mother wondering what she was suggesting while Dale snickered having understood the message immediately. Neil covered his eyes. After having seen what Betsy could do to someone, he wasn't about to insult Betsy. It wasn't smart to juggle nitroglycerine. Neil said, "Don't tell me you called her a beach bunny?" "She did," Betsy said cheerfully. "She even called me, Bubbles." "Bad move," Neil said with a grimace. Trying to sound very high brow, Betsy said, "Don't worry, your girlfriend is safe. I don't go around beating up someone's mother, just because she's rude. It's just not done in polite society." "Thank God for small favors." Dale whooped loud enough to startle everyone. Pointing a finger at Neil, he said, "He didn't deny mother was his girlfriend!" "I noticed that, too," Sanders said. "Boys!" Cat said. Dale leaned forward and asked, "Hey, Dad! Can I borrow the car tonight?" Neil smiled at Dale and asked, "Is that your beer under the plant behind you?" Dale grimaced. "Dale! You know the rules. You have to buy your own beer," his mother said shaking a finger at him. "You didn't buy that beer. Neil didn't buy his beer. Why am I the only one who has to buy his own beer?" "I have job. Sanders has a job. Neil has a job. You have a hobby," his mother answered. "It's not a hobby! It's a business." Cat said, "There's a storm gathering offshore." Dale grinned and said, "I know. The waves are going to be killer next week. I can't wait to get out on them." "How many hours will your tourist trinket shop be open next week?" Cat asked pointedly. "I don't know. A couple of hours. It depends on the surf." "It's a hobby," Cat said. Dale said, "I sell stuff to tourists. I don't have to worry about repeat business." Betsy said, "I agree with your mother. It is a hobby if the only time your shop is open is when the surf is bad. If you treated it as a business, then you'd hire sufficient help to assure that the store is adequately staffed during all business hours." "Not you, too!" "I understand business. I have investments in over fifty companies in which I own anywhere from ten percent to ninety percent interest. If you were a manager of one of my companies, I'd fire your ass so fast that you wouldn't know what hit you. Unlike you, I am involved in every one of those businesses. "However, I'm not a slave to my investments. I have a staff that prepares weekly summary reports for each business. I manage my staff. I read their reports, and make my decisions. I communicate those decisions to my staff. They make sure that my desires are carried out." "I'd never be able to go surfing again, if I were to do all of that. You're talking about a full time job." "Not really. Don't forget, I'm also a full time student at the university." Cat leaned over to Sanders and asked, "Do you have any rope?" "Rope? What for?" "I'm going to tie her up. I don't want her to get away," Cat said. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 9 "Hi, Mom." "Hi, Betsy," Ling said. "What's up?" "Ivan is dead." "It was going to happen, sooner or later," Betsy said. "It looks like Russians are leaving Hawaii by the plane load," Ling said. "I'm sure that they all got tired of the sand and sun," Betsy said. Barely cracking a smile, Ling said, "The word is out that if anyone is even rude to you, that person and his or her entire family will be punished, permanently." "I can live with that," Betsy said. Ling looked at all of the people gathered around the table. She knew who most of them were, but was going to politely feign ignorance. Ling asked, "Aren't you going to introduce me?" "Sally and her boyfriend, Steve, are on that side of the table. Sanders is sitting next to me," Betsy said. "Everyone, this is my mother, Ling." "Sanders? You look familiar." "We've met before, Ma'am." "Now I remember. You're the surfer." "Yes, Ma'am." "What are you doing here in Hawaii?" "I work for the state, analyzing commercial fishing data," Sanders answered. "So you count fish?" Ling asked. "Mother!" "You might say that, Ma'am." Sally leaned over to Steve and said, "I wonder when it is going to be our turn to get grilled." "I don't know," Steve said, looking worried. Sanders gestured to the empty seat beside him and, surprising everyone, asked, "Would you like to join us for dinner?" "That would be lovely. Claire will be here in a few minutes. Do you remember her?" "I remember Claire very well," Sanders said. Ling sat down and then asked, "So do you still surf?" "As often as I can." "I heard that the storm that's developed off the coast is going to bring some big waves," Ling said. "It should be great surfing next week," Sanders said. Ling said, "I'll bet. Betsy's board is still in Arizona. We should probably ship it out here for her to use." "I'd appreciate that. It would make a great backup," Betsy said. "You got a new board?" Ling asked. "Sanders is making a couple of them for me," Betsy said. Surprised, Ling turned to Sanders and then said, "I didn't know you did that." "I did it a little as a hobby before going to college in California. I picked it back up when I came home. I'm starting to get a pretty good reputation in the area for the quality of my boards," Sanders said. "Nice," Ling said. Claire came over to the table, looking as elegant as usual. She nodded to Ling who gestured to the seat next to Sally. She sat down. She said, "Hello, everyone, I'm Claire. I'm one of Betsy's mothers." "Sally and her boyfriend, Steve, are on your side of the table. Sanders is sitting next to me," Betsy said. Sanders said, "I think you know Ling." Claire cracked a smile and said, "Hello, Sanders. Are you still surfing?" "Yes, Ma'am." Claire said, "He's still a polite young man, isn't he Ling?" "Yes, he is," Ling said. "That's only because the two of you terrify me," Sanders said. Ling burst out laughing. Claire looked at him, amused. Sally and Steve were in full agreement with Sanders. There was something lethal that lurked below the surface in each of the two women. Betsy frowned. "Sally, I understand that you took Betsy to her first live performance," Claire said shifting the conversation away from Sanders. "Yes, Ma'am. That was a wonderful evening," Sally said. Claire said, "She told me all about it. I enjoy Gilbert and Sullivan a lot. Your choice of performance was probably the best choice for her first experience." "It's a very funny musical," Sally said. "Yes, it is. I remember the first time I saw it. I thoroughly enjoyed it," Claire said. Ling said, "I understand that Betsy is training you and Steve." "Yes, Ma'am," Sally said. Steve said, "William recommended that we train with her rather than Gary." "Gary's style would definitely be wrong for Sally. His approach is too physical for her. I'm not sure about you," Ling said. "After training with Betsy for a while, I know that her style has a lot more finesse to it than Gary's. She has an economy of movement and grace that is quite impressive. I want to learn that," Steve said. Ling studied Steve for a second. It wasn't the kind of insight that she expected from most students studying the martial arts. Too many dojos emphasized fighting with a take no prisoners kind of mindset, while a few focused on inner discipline and the spiritual. To find a student who saw and valued the economy of movement and grace, was rare. She said, "I'm impressed that you noticed that." "Thank you, Ma'am." Ling said, "Betsy, all of your friends are very polite." "That's because we're terrified of you," Sanders said looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Ling frowned. She had thought he was joking, earlier. She now realized that he had been serious. Fully aware that Ling's feelings were hurt, Betsy said, "That's only because they don't know you, Mom." "I suppose," Ling said softly. Wanting to lessen the tension, Betsy asked, "Will you be coming to the house tomorrow with me?" "Are we invited?" Ling asked. "Yes, you are invited." "Thanks, we'd love to," Ling said. Ling smiled at Betsy. Claire watched the interaction between the two women, knowing how important this invitation was to Ling. After the big fight, Betsy had told Ling to stay away from her house unless invited. "Will your three friends be joining us at your house?" Claire asked. "We hadn't discussed that," Betsy said glancing quickly at Sanders seated next to her. Claire said, "It would be such a lovely opportunity to get to know each of you a little better." Steve and Sally exchanged looks negotiating an answer. After a sequence of raised eyebrows, pursed lips, widened eyes, and the slightest of head nods, they came to a decision. It looked like they had been a couple for a long time. Sally said, "I'd love to go." "Same here," Steve said, hoping they weren't making a mistake. All eyes turned to Sanders. He felt like an ant under a magnifying glass hoping that the sun wasn't out. He had no idea how to answer. He'd only become reacquainted with Betsy two days ago. Even this dinner was unplanned. He had been visiting the boat, it had gotten late, and Betsy had given an open invitation to dinner and he was the only one who accepted. Not wanting to accept or reject the offer outright, he said, "I was thinking of working a little on Betsy's new boards, but it's not critical." Ling put a hand on his and, with a slight pleading tone to her voice, said, "Please." "Sure," he said. "I guess I can go." "Great," Ling said. For the next two hours, Ling and Claire dominated the conversation. It wasn't that they talked all that much about themselves, but that they asked questions of everyone. To everyone at the table, it was more in the manner of an interrogation than a leisurely dinner conversation. Unfortunately, Sanders caught the brunt of most of their questions. After everyone had finished eating, Claire made a quick little gesture with her right hand. Ling nodded her head. Betsy had caught the gesture, but couldn't figure out what it meant. She frowned. Ling said, "If you don't mind, Claire and I have to take care of a few things." "Okay," Betsy said. While rising from the table, Claire asked, "What time will you be at the airport?" "About ten or so," Betsy answered. "We'll see you there," Ling said standing up. Once they were gone, Sally said, "Your moms are kind of intense." "I know, but they are also very caring. When they adopt you as part of the extended family, you'll see for yourself just how nice they can be," Betsy said. "I'm sure they can be nice," Sanders said regretting that he had agreed to go with them the next day. Betsy called for the check only to be told that her mothers had already paid it. ------- Everyone showed up at the hangar at the appropriate time. They boarded and flew to the island. The landing was perfect. The only downside was that there was a little rain falling at the time. At least there hadn't been high winds or major wind shears to worry about. The drive to the house was smooth and quickly accomplished despite the softly falling rain. The guests were soon ensconced in their rooms with Ling and Claire sharing one room, Sally and Steve sharing another, and Sanders staying alone. After taking Sanders on the obligatory tour of the house, the interaction between Sanders and Betsy became somewhat awkward. In a way, he was more Ling's guest than Betsy's. After all, the invitation to visit for the weekend had originated with Ling. Betsy was nervous because she wasn't prepared to spend time alone with him. He felt like he had been pressured to come. They each made excuses to separate – Betsy claimed a need to exercise and he claimed a need to check up on some work that he hadn't finished the previous day. Checking up on Betsy, Gary stopped at the exercise room. She was pedaling like mad on the stationary bike. From the expression on her face, it was obvious that she was lost in thought. He had a pretty good idea what was bothering her. "What's the matter, Betsy?" Gary asked while taking a seat on one of the weight benches. "I don't know," Betsy answered. "It's him, isn't it?" "Who?" "Sanders." Betsy asked, "Why would you think that he's on my mind?" "If I understand the situation correctly, you're not comfortable with having him here." "That's not right," Betsy said protesting a little too forcefully. "Let's see. You're a single young woman and he's an available young man. You knew him in the past and now you have a chance to get reacquainted. Your opportunity to get to know each other on what might be called a casual double date last night was ruined by the arrival of your mothers," Gary said watching her reaction to his words. "Yes." "Then they invited him here. All of a sudden you're the hostess, he's a young man of interest, but you don't know how much interest you have in him or if he's even interested in you. There are a lot of people here and it's raining outside, so you don't have much of a chance of spending enough time alone with him for each of you to explore your feelings towards each other." "Are you reading my mind?" Betsy asked. "No." "What do I do?" Betsy asked. Gary said, "The spare key to the Hugger is hanging on a hook in the kitchen. Since you don't drive, I'm sure that he would be a gentleman and take you to the store." "What store?" Betsy asked. "Does he like beer?" "Yes," Betsy answered. Gary said, "It turns out that we're out of beer." "Are we?" Betsy asked knowing that almost all of the staff occasionally knocked one back. "Have you seen any beer?" "Well ... no, I haven't looked for any," Betsy said. Gary grinned and then said, "There you go. As far as you know, we're out of beer." "I guess we're out of beer." Gary said, "While he's doing the gentlemanly thing of driving you to the store, you might take the opportunity to apologize for the awkward circumstances of his invitation. Let him know that you appreciate him coming over, and that you would have extended an invitation to him, but that your mother beat you to it." "What then?" Betsy asked. Gary laughed. "I'm sure the conversation will take care of itself, after that." "Thanks, Gary," Betsy said while dismounting from the stationary bike. "You're welcome." Betsy found Sanders and he happily agreed to drive her to the store. They went into the kitchen to grab the key and found almost everyone seated around the table. Betsy said, "We're going to the store. We'll be right back." Thinking this would be an excellent opportunity to get to know Sanders better, Ling asked, "Would you like some company?" Before Betsy had a chance to frame a reply, Gary entered the kitchen and said, "Ah! Ling. I was looking for you." "You were?" Ling asked. "Yes. I'd like to go over some of the security measures we're implementing around here with you and Claire. We're looking at upgrading some of the defensive capabilities." "Sure. When would you like to do that?" Ling asked. "How about now?" Gary said. "I suppose we could," Ling said. "Great," Gary said. Ling looked over at Betsy. "I'm sorry. I should probably stay here." "That's okay," Betsy said. She went over Gary and hugged him. She kissed his cheek before whispering, "Thank you." "Let's go," Betsy said. She took Sanders by the hand and led him out of the kitchen. Every one watched them leave. Gary grabbed a cup of coffee. He sat down at the table and casually leaned back. He took a sip of of his hot beverage and then exhaled loudly. Ling asked, "Well?" "Well, what?" "Aren't you going to show Claire and me your security arrangements?" "No," Gary said. "You just asked me to go over them," Ling said puzzled by his behavior. "Are you dense?" Gary asked pointedly. Everyone in the room stared at him wondering if he had gone crazy. His question was a lot like yanking on a tiger's tail and then sticking his head in its' mouth. Even Sally and Steve sat back as if to keep out this one. "No," Ling answered in a chilly voice. "You sure are acting like it." "What?" "Didn't you get the hint that Betsy was trying to have a little time alone with Sanders?" "Why? They're not dating," Ling said. "That's right. And they won't ever get a chance to date if a bunch of people keep getting in their way," Gary said pointedly while looking around the room at everyone. "Oh!" Everyone, with the exception of Sally, looked a little surprised at the assertion that Betsy might be interested in Sanders. Smiling, Sally winked at Gary. He acknowledged her with a slight nod of his head. It was an hour before the couple returned from the store. The rain had stopped and the sky was clearing up. It was turning into a beautiful afternoon. Betsy and Sanders entered the kitchen to put away the beer. Ling and Claire were conspicuously absent while the staff were busy at work. Before Betsy knew what happened, she had been separated from Sanders. Gary had grabbed the bag containing the beers and directed Sanders and Steve out the back door for a round. Without having a chance to even protest, Sanders found he was sitting on the back patio with a beer in his hand wondering how he had gotten there. Betsy was in her room with Sally. Seated in a lawn chair, Gary said, "All of the estrogen in that house can be hazardous to a guys health." Steve chuckled. Sanders said, "I bet." "Before you know it, you'll be eating quiche and talking fashion," Gary said. "How do you manage?" Steve asked. "I shoot my gun a lot and then hide in my room practicing my belches," Gary said earning a laugh from Steve. In her bedroom, Betsy and Sally were lying on their stomachs across Betsy's bed. They each had their heads propped up with their hands. Betsy kept bending her leg so that her foot was rising from the bed to the air and back again. Sally asked, "So how did it go?" "What?" As if it was the most obvious thing in the world, Sally said, "Your trip to the store with Sanders." "It was a little awkward at first, but then I apologized for the way Ling put him on the spot with the invitation," Betsy said. "That mess last night was really awkward," Sally said while rolling her eyes. "Tell me about it," Betsy said. "You and Steve looked like you were both ready to head for the hills. Poor Sanders was sitting there next to Ling looking desperate. It was like someone was threatening to take a chainsaw to his surfboard." Sally laughed. "That's a good way of putting it." "Then we talked a little," Betsy said. They had actually talked a lot. It was amazing how many things they had in common. He loved the water as much as Betsy. To him, surfing wasn't a past time, but a lifestyle that he lived. It was also the kind of lifestyle that appealed to Betsy, with the exception that she just enjoyed being in the water. Something that Betsy had only recently discovered about herself was that she enjoyed sitting around and talking with people. She had seen that Sanders had taken that was a given in the way he lived. He just assumed that once it started getting too late to surf or work outside, that people would turn up at his house, grab a beer, and start talking. His friends were the type that would nurse a beer or two for an entire evening, leaving without being the least bit tipsy. There were a few differences. The amount of money each had was one difference, but his attitude towards money was not that far removed from how Betsy viewed it. He made far more money than he spent. He spent his money to do things he enjoyed and he wasn't out to impress others. He could have afforded a bigger house in a better neighborhood, but he liked being within walking distance of the beach. He had plans for the future. He figured he would put in his years working for the state, make his surf boards, surf, and raise a family. When he retired, he'd transition from making surf boards as a hobby to making them his business. He expected to shut down the business for a couple of weeks at a time so that he could visit some exotic location where the surf was good. "What did you talk about?" "All kinds of stuff," Betsy said. "Did you kiss?" Sally asked. "No." "Why not?" Sally asked. Betsy said, "It's a little early for that, isn't it?" "I don't know," Sally said. "You didn't exactly rush into that," Betsy said. "I wanted to," Sally said. Betsy was silent for a moment. "I don't know what I want." "You want him to make mad passionate love to you, you're terrified that he'll do it, and you fear that you won't be any good at it," Sally said. "Yeah," Betsy said. "Of course, you can't tell if he's even interested in you," Sally said. "Right." Sally said, "It seems like everything is conspiring to make it difficult to get to know him." "My mothers definitely aren't helping." Ling and Claire sat on the beach watching the waves roll in. The periods of silence while the ocean appeared to be gathering its strength, the slowly developing rush as the wave started to break, and then loud crash when the wave collapsed made a nice background for deep thoughts. Ling sighed. Claire laid back to look up at the sky. "My baby is growing up." Claire said, "Your baby is fully grown." "I just want to protect her," Ling said. "She's under the protection of the Gods and Goddesses now," Claire said. Ling snorted. "Why is it, that on the one to ten scale of warm and fuzzy, I only feel about a ... oh ... a two?" "You're wrong to feel that way." "Why? A fat lot of good their protection did John, Happy Harry, and Oscar." Claire knew that the circumstances of each of those deaths was different. John was a sacrifice to provide a new conduit between humans and the Gods and Goddesses, Happy Harry was a proper exit for an old man who had helped so many, and Oscar was a sacrifice to end the religious wars. Of course, Ling was personally devastated by the death of her husband, John, and one of her few true friends, Happy Harry. Claire said, "I saw Betsy dodge that bullet." "You've told me that before," Ling said. "I'll tell you again and again until you believe me. She dodged that bullet. I saw it with my own eyes. She moved so fast that I couldn't see her. I'm not talking Betsy fast, I'm talking God and Goddess enhanced fast." "My baby is growing up," Ling said with a sigh. "She still needs you." "No, she doesn't." "Who took out the snipers?" "Okay, so she still needs me." Claire looked over at Ling and said, "She's smart enough to call us when she needs us." "That's better than William," Ling said. "William doesn't need us." "That's true." That was a truth that hurt Ling more than anything. William didn't need anyone except Lucy. It was hard being a mother to a child who didn't need anything from his parents. "What do you think of Sanders?" Ling said, "I've always like him. Back in California, he was one of the few people who didn't care at all about Betsy's money. He even managed to deal with her energy without batting an eye." "Do you think they'll get serious?" "I don't know," Ling said. "I just hope that she doesn't get hurt." Claire looked back up at the sky. "It sure is hard being a mother, isn't it?" "Yes," Ling said. ------- The evening turned out to be pleasant. Gary, Steve, and Sanders stood over the barbecue grill cooking steaks for dinner. Everyone ate outside, and then sat around the table after dinner casually talking. Ling and Claire didn't say much, which appeared to improve the flow of conversation. Steve asked, "What kind of artwork are you going to do on Betsy's surfboard?" "I was thinking of going with a plain board, to tell the truth. I had thought about an abstract shark, but figured that would be a little hokey," Sanders answered. "I kind of agree," Betsy said although she was somewhat intrigued by the idea of a surfboard with a shark motif. She could see herself riding on a board that looked like the back of a shark. "How plain?" Sally asked. "I was thinking a solid color with a stripe down the center. Betsy should pick out the colors," Sanders answered. "That's pretty plain," Sally said looking over at Betsy. She felt Betsy was the kind of person who would have gone for a balance between plain and elaborate. A solid color with a stripe was just a little too tame for her. At the same time, she wouldn't want a bright color that stood out too much. She could see Betsy choosing a board with a solid color, but it would need to have a small picture of a shark on it. "I guess I'd go with two colors of blue – a light blue board and a dark blue stripe," Betsy said. "Light blue with a dark blue stripe, it will be," Sanders said. "Good," Betsy said. Sally noticed that the enthusiasm just wasn't in Betsy's voice. She dismissed her concerns when the conversation turned to a different topic. By the end of the evening, the case of beer disappeared. This was understandable since there were nine people drinking beer. Even Ling and Claire had taken a beer. The staff began to disperse and head to bed for the night. That basically signaled the end of the evening. Peter and Sally went for a walk along the beach. Sanders, unaware that Betsy was hoping he'd stay there with her for a while, excused himself and went to bed. After saying goodnight to Betsy, Ling and Claire headed off to bed, also. Alone, Betsy sat out on the patio lost in thought. Sanders visit was going well, but it could have been going better. Unfortunately, there were too many people around and few opportunities for them to be alone with each other. She wasn't an expert, but it seemed to her that Sanders wasn't putting much of an effort to be alone with her. He could have hung back and taken her on a walk like Steve had done for Sally. She glanced up and noticed Sally and Steve embracing each other, during a slight pause in their romantic walk towards the beach. The palm trees blocked the light from the quarter moon, leaving a patchwork of light and shadows along the path. The young couple would talk a little, kiss a bit, and stare lovingly into each other's eyes before taking another dozen steps along the path to the beach. Betsy wiped a tear from her eye. She envied their relationship. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 10 The middle aged man ran across the parking lot, glancing fearfully over his shoulder for signs of pursuit. He tripped over a concrete parking lot divider, flying face first towards the pavement. While attempting to catch his fall, he let loose of his briefcase. It skittered across the pavement. Ignoring his cuts and scrapes, he scrambled forward to catch his briefcase. His suit was torn and dirty as a result of his fall. Betsy had detoured from her parkour run across the roof of the building. She had jumped to ground, using the roof of a truck that was parked near the building as a stepping stone. She had been running one of her parkour routes and witnessed the man's flight and subsequent spill. Her foot stopped the briefcase. He grabbed at the briefcase only then noticing that it was under her foot. "Help me," he said. "I need a place to hide." "Who is chasing you?" "Two men. I don't know who they are. I saw them kill my boss and now they're after me," the man said while looking around fearfully. "Go hide between the two cars over there," Betsy said pointing to some cars parked nearby. He looked at her, and she barked, "Hide! Now!" As soon as the man was hidden, two men ran into the parking lot. They paused, looked around, and then headed for Betsy. One of them reached out to grab her arm. She redirected his movement so that he hit himself in the face with his palm. He stepped back and shook his head like he was trying to see if something had come loose, inside. "God damn it," he said upon discovering he had a bloody nose. The other man asked, "Did you see a man come running through here?" The man with the bloody nose fiddled around, and pulled out a handkerchief. He dabbed it at his nose, slowly turning it red with blood. "It doesn't matter if I did or not," Betsy answered. "Why?" the questioner asked surprised by her answer. "I'm not going to tell you what I did or didn't see. It's not polite for a strange man to try to grab a young woman in the middle of a parking lot. I don't talk to rude men," Betsy said primly with a vacuous expression on her face The man who had tried to grab her said, "Listen, bitch. You're going to tell us which way he went or you'll live to regret it." "I've had remarkably few regrets in my life. I suppose now is a good time to get another," Betsy said with a smile. "I ought to smack you into next week." The other man had been looking around for any sign of their prey. Not finding any, he said, "Forget her. He's gone." The man who had tried to grab her, said, "One day you and I will have a long talk. You won't like it." "I guess that means you're a boring conversationalist, too. Rude and boring, what a lousy combination. No wonder you're grumpy," Betsy said. The man looked like he was ready to hit her. Betsy smiled, and gave him the finger. "Forget the bitch. We've got a bigger problem to worry about," the one man said grabbing the other man by the arm. She watched the two men leave with the one man pulling the other away. They kept turning around to look at her. She waited until they were out of sight. "Stay there," Betsy said. "I've got some calls to make. I know people who can help you." "Okay," the man said. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number. When the other party answered, Betsy said, "Hello, Detective Roberts." "Don't tell me you mangled, maimed, or killed another Russian." "Okay, I won't tell you that," Betsy said smiling. There was a low groan. "Did you mangle, maim, or kill another Russian?" "No." "What do you want?" "I need to talk with you," Betsy said. "I can't. I'm rather busy," he said. "I take it you're on your way to investigate a murder?" There was a moment of silence while he considered her statement. She knew someone had been murdered. There were only three explanations. From his perspective, none of them were any good. Knowing his luck, she had killed the man. He picked the most likely one and asked, "Did you kill him?" "No." Deciding that she had witnessed it, he said, "I'm on my way to the crime scene. I'll talk to you when I'm done with that." Betsy said, "Okay. You go play Mr. Important Detective while I will play poor little scared college girl. You go look at a dead body, and I'll hide the witness to the murder you're investigating." "You're hiding a witness to the murder," Detector Roberts said in a voice that was half disbelief and half acceptance. "Ah. You figured it out. You really are a remarkable detective, Mr. Clouseau," Betsy said. "Where are you?" Betsy rubbed the torc on her arm and then answered, "I'll meet you at the Bloated Shark in two hours." She ended the call. She looked around the parking lot. She called over to where the man was hiding, "Stay where you are. I'm sure they're still looking for you. They've probably gone off to get a car and will drive around hoping to spot you running." "Okay," the man said. A dark sedan drove past the parking lot at a slow speed. She could see four men in it looking around in search of someone. Two of them were the men who had bothered her in the parking lot. She couldn't see the license plate on the car. "Sometimes people are so damned predictable," Betsy muttered. Betsy opened her cell phone and made a speed-dial call. "Candice, this is Betsy. Get the special room ready." Seeing her on the telephone, the man driving floored it and the car sped off. She put away the cell phone and then walked over to the cars parked nearby. "You can get up now. We'll go in the building behind me, cut through it to the engineering building, and visit with a friend of mine for a bit. A detective will meet up with us later and you can tell him what happened," Betsy said. "Are you sure it is safe?" Betsy rubbed the torque on her arm before she answered, "Quite sure." While they made their way into the building, she said, "I'm Betsy. Who are you?" "Tony Thomas." "Nice to meet you Tony." "I'm sorry to have gotten you mixed up in this," Tony said. Betsy said, "Don't worry about it. This is something I'm supposed to be doing." "What's that mean?" "Don't worry about it," Betsy said dismissively. Betsy led Tony through the labyrinth that was the engineering building. Some people recognized her, and moved out of her way. Others stared at the man because of his torn suit. She stopped in front of an office. "Here we are." "There's no sign on the door." "The man inside doesn't want to be disturbed," Betsy said. "If he has a visitor, then he might have to rouse himself enough to engage in a conversation." "What?" Tony asked. Henry rolled his head and opened an eye, to look at the couple as they entered his office. He said, "I think I liked it better when you were full of energy." "You just fantasized about me doing native dances, topless," Betsy said. "Nah. I appreciated the contrast. You made feel even lazier," Henry replied. "That makes sense in a lazy crazy sort of way," Betsy said with a half grin. "Who's the guy in the mangled suit?" "Tony, this is Henry. Henry, this is Tony." "Why are you here?" "I need a place to hide him for a couple of hours," Betsy said. "So you thought of me." Betsy replied, "Knowing how many visitors you get, I knew that no one would disturb us." Henry's fingers flew over the keyboard. The coffeemaker started brewing a cup of coffee. "How's the sandwich maker working out?" Betsy asked. "It sucks. It broke after the third grilled cheese sandwich. It's easier to send Paul out to bring back real meals," Henry said. "Are you paralyzed?" Tony asked. "No. Just lazy." "I know who you are. You're Henry Thibodeaux." "That's right." "We hired you to work on the FG gun." "Oh, you're Tony Thomas?" "That's right," Tony said. "How's the project going?" Henry asked. "One of the mechanical engineers solved the silencer problem last week. Basically, it's done." "How'd you suppress that much noise?" Henry asked with a raise eyebrow. Tony got very excited and said, "It was actually a lot easier than I thought possible. The whole barrel was made into a silencer." Betsy rolled her eyes and said, "While you two are comparing the sizes of your oscilloscopes, I'm going to finish my run." "Have fun," Henry said. "Work up a sweat so that I can say that I've seen my share of exercise for the day." "Very funny," Betsy said. Two hours later, a yellow checkered taxi pulled up by the dock next to the Bloated Shark. Betsy paid the fare before they got out of it. Tony had taken one look at the back of the tug and said, "I hate to say this, but the name of this boat is really disgusting. 'Bloated Shark' makes me think of a dead and stinking shark, rotting under a hot sun." "It's a big slow boat that moves through the water like a bloated shark," Betsy said. "I'd change the name if I were you." "I like the name." Tony followed her to the second deck where they entered the crew entertainment room. There was a large screen television attached to one wall, with chairs facing it. There was also a table with bench seats at the end of the room opposite the television. "They're making progress," Betsy said ignoring the two men who were waiting for her. "Hello, Miss Carter." "Hi, Detective Roberts. You don't look happy to see me." "It just seems that injured, maimed, and dead people show up whenever I'm around you." "I don't start things, I just end them," Betsy said. "Hello, Betsy." "Hi, David. How are things in the FBI?" "Lots of bad guys to chase down," David answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "I take you're here on Druid business," Betsy said. Detective Roberts had been aware that the man with him was FBI, but he hadn't known he was a Druid. He looked over at David knowing that this case just got a thousand times more complicated. Druids weren't exactly popular among the rich and powerful on the island at the moment. Things would get very excited around the station if a Druid showed up. He swore, "Oh, shit!" "The lead engineer on the FG gun project was murdered this afternoon," David said. "So what's so important about that, that it brings an FBI agent in?" Detective Roberts asked. "It's a highly classified project. When you have a lead on a project of that importance get murdered, you tend to think of espionage." "You're a little quick to jump to conclusions. We won't know a motive until we get more information about the circumstances of murder," Detective Roberts said. "He was there," Betsy said pointing a thumb at Tony. Tony held up the briefcase he was carrying and said, "I've got Taylor's briefcase." "Let's see what's inside," David said. While David went through the contents of the briefcase, Detective Roberts interviewed Betsy and Tony to get details about the murder, including descriptions of the individuals involved. It was a relatively simple story. Taylor and Tony had gone to lunch. Taylor had excused himself from the table to talk to a man. He came back to the table upset about something. After they finished their meal, they left the restaurant. For some reason, Taylor had given Tony his briefcase to carry. On reaching Taylor's car they were confronted by two men. When guns were pulled, Tony backed away. When they shot Taylor, Tony took off. Several blocks later, he ran into Betsy in the parking lot. Detective Roberts, upon hearing the details of Betsy's involvement, said, "You were just hoping he'd take a swing at you, weren't you?" "Not really," Betsy said. Nodding in David's direction, Betsy said, "Taking care of those men is his job. Mine is to hide Tony until this mess is over." David perked up and glanced at the torc on her arm. He asked, "Are you supposed to be a guardian angel?" "I guess,"Betsy said. "I haven't gotten much guidance from you know who." "Interesting." Detective Roberts said, "So what happens now?" David said, "We do our jobs. You'll work on the murder case. I'll work on the espionage case. Betsy will hide our witness." "Where will you hide him?" Detective Roberts asked. "That's my business," Betsy answered. Tony asked, "What about my family?" "Don't worry. We'll get them," Betsy said. ------- Later that night, a car driving without headlights wheeled into a hangar at an airport. It came to an abrupt stop with tires screeching. The side of the car was battered. Wheels got out from the driver's seat and, with her first held up in the air above her head, shouted, "And another one bites dust!" Gary got out of the car and said, "I said 'lose them.'" "I did lose them, and it only took me five seconds to do it," Wheels said proudly. "You didn't lose them. You forced them into that 'Jersey barrier, '" Gary growled. "They were following us and then they weren't. What more do you expect from me?" Wheels asked ready to have a stare down with him across the roof of the car. A woman stumbled out of the back door of the car. She stood there white faced staring daggers at Wheels. Two kids followed her out of the car. One kid looked excited and the other looked green. The woman shouted, "Are you crazy, woman? There were kids in the car!" "They weren't in danger," Wheels said dismissively. "You collided with that car at sixty miles an hour," the woman said. "That's a textbook maneuver. I'm trained professional," Wheels said. The woman stuttered. She was so mad that she couldn't even talk. Taking the woman by the arm, Gary said, "We need to get you on the plane." The kids spotted their father and ran up to the jet excited at the chance to be the first to tell him about their adventure in getting there. It started with their mother telling them to pack a suitcase since they were going on an unexpected vacation with their father. Of course, it wasn't that easy. The kids packed their suitcases; and then she repacked them, actually putting clothes in them that time. They started to suspect that things were not normal when Gary showed up at their backdoor. Their mother was on the phone at the time, with their father. She was listening and then examining Gary as if to compare him to a description. This was very cloak-and-daggerish, just like in a movie. It didn't take them long to spot Gary's pistol, and that added a lot to their level of excitement. Then they waited on the couch with their mother, for the car that was to take them to the airport. Gary had closed the curtains of the living room window and then kept peeking through a little opening to look out at the street. Gary had said that he was waiting for their taxi to arrive. Their mother was obviously tense and kept herself between Gary and the kids. Their mother nearly jumped when Gary told them their ride was there. He told each of them to grab a suitcase and then made sure that each kid could handle the one they had picked up. The oldest had tried for the heaviest suitcase, but Gary took it out of his hands. He led them out of the house, pausing at the front door to look around. The kids were surprised when they stepped out of the house to find a Crown Victoria Police Interceptor in the driveway parked so that it faced the street. It was painted black – not a shiny black, but an evil looking flat black that appeared to suck the light out of its surroundings. It was making a low whir of caged power sitting there in idle. Even the kids knew this was not a taxi. Things really got exciting when the woman driving the car casually mentioned that a car was parked down the street watching the house. The car followed them when they pulled out of the driveway. The kids had tried to turn around to watch the car that was following them, but a sharp command from the woman to keep their seat belts on had put an end to that. It wasn't until they reached the highway that things really got exciting. The woman stepped on the accelerator, and it felt like the car was launching itself into space. Suddenly, they were in a car chase just like the ones in the movies. It came to a quick end when the woman suddenly changed lanes, and slammed on the brakes. She then floored it when the car following them was beside them, and forced the car into a Jersey barrier. While the kids were busy telling about their adventure, their mother was holding onto Tony for dear life. Making two trips, Gary was busy carrying the luggage to the plane where the charter crew loaded them into the storage compartment. It didn't take long for everything to get stowed. Betsy said, "Listen up, everyone." Once she had everyone's attention, she said, "You're going to fly into Spokane Washington. Wheels has a car there and will drive you to a safe house." "I'm not letting my kids get into a car with her," Tony's wife declared. Betsy said, "The men in the car that chased you are part of a group that killed Tony's boss. They murdered him in cold blood and would have killed Tony if Tony hadn't run away. Let me tell you what would have happened, if we weren't helping you. If you had stayed in the house, the bad guys would have broken in and taken you away. If you had been driving to get here, they'd have gotten you before you'd driven to the end of your street. If Wheels hadn't been driving, you'd have been in their hands by now." "Well, I never..." "That's right. You've never had to drive a car in a way to protect innocent people from becoming victims of mean cruel people. Wheels has the necessary training to protect her passengers, and the experience of having done it in the past. Wheels is the best bodyguard driver in the world. She kept those murderers from getting their hands on you and your kids." Tony said, "Honey, these people know what they're doing." "Stacy will be going with you. She's a professional body guard and she will be armed. She's licensed to carry in every state of the union and in twelve other countries. She will keep you safe if you listen to her," Betsy said. Betsy turned and, while shaking a finger at the two boys, she said, "Boys. You will listen to her, and do everything she says. Do you understand me?" Wide eyed, both boys nodded their heads. Betsy smiled at them and then said, "Good. Now get on the plane and take care of yourselves. You'll be home before you know it." Once the family was aboard, Gary said, "I'll take the car to the junk yard. It'll be crushed by morning." "Good," Betsy said. "Get back to the main house as soon as you can. I don't like having something like this going on without security there." "I'll be there in four hours," Gary said. "Will you be safe?" "Of course," Betsy said as if to suggest otherwise would be an insult. "Hey, I can't help it that I worry about you," Gary said. Although he wasn't her bodyguard, it didn't stop a lifetime of habit from manifesting on occasion. This was one of those occasions. "Between you and my mothers, I'm surrounded by 'mother hens, '" Betsy said disgust. The pair had to interrupt their conversation while the jet slowly made its way out of the hangar. The noise was too load to hear each other even at the short distance between them. Once it was quiet enough to talk, Gary asked, "What will you be doing?" Betsy said, "I'm going to Sanders' house. He's got the barbecue grill fired up, and everyone is coming over." "How are things going with him?" Betsy looked at him and then asked, "Are you planning on have one of those father-boyfriend talks with him?" "Who me?" Gary asked with a grin. "Yes, you." "No. I'll leave that up to Ling," Gary said. Betsy laughed. "Maybe it would be better if you did it!" Gary said, "I'm not worried about him trying to force you into doing something that you don't want to do. I'm worried that you'll let your emotions get in the way of your better judgment." "What do you mean?" Betsy asked. "It's just that you and he may have different views of where your relationship is going. He may just view you like a friend while your intentions are a little more involved." "Oh," Betsy said. She had never even considered that possibility. The suggestion that Sanders wasn't interested in being her boyfriend was like getting hit in the face with a two-by-four. She didn't know what to say. "I just want you to take your time so that you don't get hurt," Gary said gently. "Do you really think he's not interested in me?" "I don't know. It's too early to tell," Gary said. "I'm going to have to think about that," Betsy said. Gary said, "While you're thinking about it, go to his place and eat barbecue and talk to all of his friends. Have a good time and enjoy yourself." "Sure," Betsy said. Gary watched her leave in the limousine that had brought her to the hangar. He muttered, "She's so damned innocent!" ------- Betsy grabbed a soda from the ice chest and sat down between Cat and Sanders. She popped open the can and took a drink. Having noticed how Betsy had arrived, Cat asked, "Do you always travel around by limousine?" "No. I just had to run an errand that required transportation and my driver was busy. Usually, I just walk or run where I need to go." "You don't have a car of your own?" "I don't know how to drive," Betsy answered. She had been meaning to get a learners permit, but life had been rather complicated lately. That was one of the things that kept getting delayed. "Why not?" Cat asked. "It's a long story." "I have time for a long story." "Speaking of long stories, you said that you'd tell me how come everyone calls you Cat rather than Karen." Cat laughed. "It was because of my late husband, Roy. It all started after we had been surfing all day with the old gang of ours. Roy and I were still dating at the time. There was a group of us who were sitting around watching the sun go down when Roy announced that I was a scaredie-cat. I think it was Neil who asked why. "Roy goes off into this long explanation about how I didn't fall off the board once that day. The only explanation that he could come up with was that I was afraid of getting wet. He declared that the only reason I was a good surfer was that I was a scaredie-cat. "In that old gang of ours, his comments doomed me to be known for years as Scaredie-Cat. After a while, everyone just shortened it to Cat." "That wasn't such a long story," Betsy said. Cat laughed and then said, "Most of the beach bunnies the boys bring home would have fallen asleep twice in the telling." "This beach bunny has a longer attention span than that," Betsy said. "I apologize for that. You're the first girl either boy brought home that wasn't a beach bunny or such an airhead that Bubbles was a fitting nickname," Cat said. "Apology accepted," Betsy said. Cat glanced out towards the street with a worried expression on her face. "I wish Neil would get here." "He's busy working on a murder case with the FBI," Betsy said. "How do you know that?" Cat asked curious how it was that Betsy knew that. Betsy said, "I saw him, earlier today." Dale winked at Betsy and asked, "Does Mom have to worry about you stealing away her boyfriend?" "Dale, I'm going to kill you," Cat said. "Maybe," Betsy said. "Mom sounds a little worried, to me," Dale said. Cat looked over at Dale, and noticed the can of beer in his hand. Changing the topic away from her love life, she asked, "What did I tell you about drinking Sanders' beer?" "I bought the beer." "That's right, he brought over a couple cases of beer tonight," Sanders said. "Do you mean he paid for this can of beer?" Cat asked holding up her can. "I did." "Boys! You're going to have to carry me home tonight. I'm gonna drink Dale's beer until I can't walk," Cat announced earning a laugh from everyone there. Betsy spent most of the evening talking with Cat. She learned how Cat and Roy had dated until she had gotten pregnant. They had married and raised the two boys spending as much time as possible surfing. Roy drove a tourist bus and she worked as a bartender in the bar of a hotel. They never had much, but they had each other, a small house, the boys, and surfing. From Cat's perspective, it was a perfect life. ------- Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 11 It was approaching lunchtime when Betsy stepped into Sally's darkened laboratory. The only sources of light were the fish tanks, and the base of the microscope. It was enough light to see by, once the eyes became adjusted to the low level; but that always took a moment, upon entering. The soft burble of the aquariums running provided a background noise that one noticed initially upon arriving in the room, but which faded from awareness after a few minutes. The effect of the darkness and soft noises, combined to give the room a feeling of calm tranquility. It was much like that found in an old church, rather than the dark and forbidding feel one might expect. It was a room well suited for the young woman who worked in it. A large lab bench occupied the center of the room. Sally was bent over a microscope examining the tissue taken from one of her fish. There was an open research notebook on the table next to the precision instrument. A pen lay across the page. "Ah, there you are," Sally muttered while her hand moved to the base of the microscope. The click of a digital photograph being taken sounded loud in the quiet of the room. An image showed up on the screen of the laptop computer on her desk. She reached out without looking and grabbed the pen. With the barest of glances at the lab notebook, she made an entry documenting the picture that had been taken. Betsy walked over to the desk to examine the picture. Her eyes picked out a few details from it, but she knew that Sally would see a lot more in the picture than she would. There was another click from behind, and a new picture showed up on the screen. This was at a greater magnification and more details were observable. Sally looked up from her work and said, "It's lunchtime already?" "Yes," Betsy said listlessly. "I guess I was so into my work that the time just flew by. I had no idea that it was getting that late," Sally said. "Take your time. I'm not really hungry," Betsy said going over to one of the fish tanks to watch the fish swim around. Sally froze and turned to study Betsy. Not once in the entire time she had know Betsy, had the young woman ever professed to not being hungry. "What's the matter?" "Nothing." "There's definitely something the matter. Spill it," Sally said. Betsy said, "I spent the past couple of evenings over at Sanders' house." "That's great," Sally said. "I spent most of time talking with his mother," Betsy said. "That doesn't sound so great." Betsy said, "I think she's more interested in marrying me, than Sanders is." "She swings that way?" Sally asked, rather surprised that a woman with two sons was actually a lesbian. "No, silly. She's dating Neil Roberts," Betsy said. Sally thought about it for a moment before realizing what Betsy was saying. She slumped in her chair, knowing that Betsy had to be pretty down. She knew that Betsy had been hoping that Sanders was the one for her. "You're saying he's not interested in you." "That's right," Betsy said. "Did he say anything to you?" "It's more like what he hasn't said to me," Betsy said. "What do you mean?" "He's never asked me out on a date." Sally felt there was one little flaw in that statement. Betsy was spending nearly every evening over at his house at his invitation. The fact that he was inviting her over had to mean something. She said, "He invites you over to his place every night." "Me ... and everyone else." There was always a crowd at Sanders' place. It wasn't a rowdy crowd and no one actually got drunk. They weren't even very loud although occasionally someone might shout something to someone else. The neighbors didn't seem to mind. In fact, a good number of people who dropped by, were the neighbors. People came, then left after spending a half an hour to an hour visiting with Sanders. Some showed up with beer that they left behind, after having one of the cold ones from the ice chest. Others grabbed a beer from the ice chest and chatted until they finished drinking it. No one stayed long, just enough to be sociable. There was even a path worn in the carpet inside the house, leading from the door to the bathroom. People even joked about it as Betsy had discovered when she had needed to visit the facilities on one of her first visits. Sally said, "At least you get a chance to talk with him, don't you?" "Not really," Betsy said. "How can you not talk to him, if you're over there every night?" Sally asked incredulously. Betsy answered, "I spend all of my time there seated between him and his mother. For every hour that I talk to his mother, I spend five minutes talking with him. He's always talking with the other people who drop by. It seems like fifty people drop in, every night." "I don't know what to say," Sally said. "There's not much to say," Betsy said, "Let's go to lunch." "Where do you want to go?" Sally asked getting out of her chair. "I don't care. I'm not really very hungry," Betsy said. "You've really got it bad, don't you?" "I don't know what you mean," Betsy said. "Be that way," Sally said. Knowing she would get a rise out of Betsy, she added, "Since you don't care where we eat, how about fish tacos?" "Don't be revolting! Fish tacos? How dare they call that fish dish a taco? That's like saying a cherry blintz is an enchilada," Betsy said with her face twisted in disgust. The one thing that Betsy missed more than anything from Arizona was Mexican food. She would have killed to have one enchilada dinner at Maria's. Just thinking about it, she could taste the frijoles, the tacos, the rice, and the cheese enchiladas. "No tacos?" "No tacos," Betsy said. "How about soup and sandwiches?" "I guess that would be okay," Betsy said. "Give me a minute to put away my samples," Sally said. "Sure," Betsy replied knowing that Sally would be busy for several minutes. Sally took the sample from the microscope and placed the glass slide into a box designed specifically for holding samples of that size. The box was placed into a freezer atop the plastic box that held the fish from which the sample had been taken. Freezing the sample would prevent the tissue from decomposing. This would allow her to revisit the sample should she find a need for it in the future. She went over to the laptop and made sure the pictures she had taken were saved and backed up. That afternoon would be spent marking up copies of the pictures with notes identifying interesting features that she had observed. It was all part of the disciplined life of a biologist – the care and feeding of the subjects, the management and protection of the samples, the recording and archiving of data, the analysis of data, and the painful process of interpreting the results to form a cohesive theory. Finally Sally slipped off her white lab coat, and hung it on a coat stand by the door. "I'm ready." "Let's go," Betsy said. The women left the lab. They walked side by side out of the building. Sally noticed that Betsy wasn't moving as quickly as usual. Betsy said, "I'm kind of jealous. You're already collecting data and I'm still putting my laboratory together." It seemed to Betsy that a lot of her life was in stasis. It had taken a lot of time to purchase the tugboat, restore it to an operational state, and then turn it into a floating laboratory. They were still installing equipment and it would be another month before it was ready for use. That would put her at the beginning of her research. She would still have to spend time collecting data, which in her case would mean tagging sharks, taking samples from each one, and then tracking their movement. "You'll be out on your boat before you know it," Sally said. Betsy said, "I know. It's just that I feel like I'm not progressing in anything I want to accomplish." In addition to not having a boyfriend and not having completed her lab, progress on fixing her home to her satisfaction had come to a standstill. The work on the security center/office, at home, hadn't even been started. Gary, Stacy, Charlie, and the architect were gridlocked on what the building should look like. Gary and Stacy were only interested in the security features of the building, while Charlie was focused on providing a professional business environment. The architect was struggling to achieve an esthetic balance with the landscape, the existing structure on the property, and the functional purpose of the building. She was half tempted to fire the architect who didn't seem to understand that a security center needed to be secure. He kept giving them plans with glass exteriors to take advantage of the views and to reflect the architecture of her home. He felt like a few structurally strong interior spaces made the building secure enough. Gary was so frustrated that he was halfway tempted to take the architect to a training session where attackers learned how to go through walls rather than doors. "Sure you are," Sally said. "Where am I making progress?" Betsy asked. The question stumped Sally for a moment while she tried to think of some area where things were going well. "Your businesses are doing well," Sally said. "That's true," Betsy said. The motel had been partially restored. It was now at a point where it could accept paying guests. The lobby had been refurbished so that it wasn't an outright embarrassment. Six of the guest rooms were in condition to be rented. The landscaping company had done a pretty good job of removing the weeds and putting down sod. Flowers would have to wait until the construction was finished. They were waiting to repave the parking lot until after the rest of the work was completed. With regard to the true purpose of the motel, Candice had done a good job of implementing the plans Stacy had created for the safe rooms. Tony Thomas and his family were currently living there with Stacy in the room next door. The only problem with the safe rooms that had cropped up was a lack of things to keep young boys from getting bored. Stacy was busy trying to rectify that situation. Candice's living quarters had been fixed up nicely although she had not yet decorated it with much more than the barest of furnishings. It was a source of pride on her part that she was going to pay for all of the furniture out of her paycheck rather than let Betsy front the money. Betsy understood that. The water filtration company was in the process of delivering a system to the aquarium and had a tentative order for a second one. A lot of people in the business were waiting to see how well it performed before committing to the new technology. Betsy had known that would be the case so she wasn't bothered by the lack of orders. Jake was busy meeting with the leadership of a town in Honduras about the possible use of their filtration system for the local water. He had read in the newspaper of a number of deaths in the area that had been a result of people drinking contaminated water. There was a very good possibility that this call could open the door to the selling the filtration system to small towns around the world. Everyone was excited about the future. Knowing there was one thing that could cheer up Betsy, Sally said, "If you want, we can go to another performance." "That would be nice," Betsy said starting to sound cheerful. "Maybe we can go to a symphony." "Let's do it. We'll see what's available and get tickets to whatever we like best," Sally said. "That's a great idea," Betsy said. The little luncheonette had a number of brochures for the arts and the local entertainment paper. They spent the lunch going over available performances. There were performances at all levels of polish – local amateur theaters, nationally recognized artists who were making bar appearances, university productions, and full professional performances. They could watch plays, operas, jazz, and rock bands. Then there were the 'art' films being shown in high brow specialty cinemas, and on campus. By the time they finished lunch, it had been decided that they would go to a local jazz club to listen to a performance in a women in jazz series. Neither knew what to expect, but they were going to approach it as an adventure. The decision to go to a live performance had cheered Betsy significantly. It was to the point where she had basically forgotten the source of her earlier discontent. She was in a good mood when she jogged over to Sander's house for an evening visit. Turning onto the street where Sanders lived, she spotted Cat waving to her. She jogged over and slowed to a walk for the last few steps. "Hi, Betsy. How are you doing?" Cat asked. "Okay," Betsy answered. Cat gestured to the house behind her and said, "Would you like to have a cup of tea?" "Tea? You're not drinking beer, tonight?" Betsy asked. "I drink beer with the guys; but I enjoy a nice cup of hot tea, occasionally," Cat replied. Betsy said, "I like tea." The two women went into the house. Cat had a nice wood box filled with a large selection of teas that she had recently received as a present. They discussed the various flavors and each selected one to try. They treated it almost as if they were trying to pick out just the right piece of chocolate to try in a box of mixed chocolates. Betsy picked the White Ginger Pear while Cat went with the Flora. It wasn't long before the two women had a cup of hot tea in front of them. Betsy tasted hers and said, "This is a delightful tea. I would have expected the ginger to overpower everything else, but it provides just a delicate hint of ginger." "I'm rather pleased with this one. I would never have thought of combining hibiscus, cinnamon, and licorice," Cat said. Betsy took another sip of her tea trying to decide if a little sugar would improve it or ruin it. The flavors were so well balanced that she decided the sugar would lessen it. After an awkward moment, Betsy asked, "What did you and Roy do when you were dating?" "Well, we didn't really date in a conventional sense. Roy, Neil, Danny, Dale, Sue, and I grew up in this neighborhood, together. We started surfing together about the time we could carry our surfboards to the beach. We were a gang of six surfers, and we did everything together. "When we got to dating age, Roy and I paired up without really thinking about it. Dale and Sue became an item. Neil and Danny were great at picking up beach bunnies from the mainland. Usually, it ended up with eight of us sitting around on the beach in the evening talking and basically hanging around. Of course, there were high school dances. "Roy and I would go to school events as a couple. I don't think it ever dawned on either of us to go with someone else. We were pretty conventional in a lot of ways. I mean, we fooled around like a lot of kids did, but we were more surfing buddies than boyfriend and girlfriend. "Dale and Sue would show up usually about the time things were coming to an end. They used school events as a way to sneak off alone and have sex. Sue was pregnant by her senior year. They married right after graduation and they kind of dropped out of the gang at that point. They really changed their life a lot. Both of them gave up surfing, got jobs, went to school at night, and ultimately moved away. "Neil and Danny always showed up stag to school events. People would have talked about them, but they were getting laid by more women than anyone else in the school. Neil eventually married one of the beach bunnies upon graduating college. Danny is still chasing skirts at the big hotels. He's the same age as I am, but he looks a hundred years old. "With Neil off in college and Danny prowling around the big hotels, Roy and I were just kind of left there with each other. We went on as before, surfing and hanging out at the beach until one day I got preggers with Sanders. Roy popped the question, I said yes, and we married." Betsy said, "It kind of sounds like there wasn't much passion there." Cat replied, "Roy wasn't a particularly romantic kind of guy, and I'm not particularly passionate. We fitted well together, and had a great life as a couple. Don't get me wrong, I loved Roy and he loved me. We just meshed well together, in a more sedate way." "So I guess just hanging around is how the men in your family deal with girlfriends?" Cat took a long sip of her tea trying to figure out how to answer that one. There just wasn't a good way to say what needed to be said. "Sanders and Dale, are a lot like Neil and Danny were. They like playing with the beach bunnies," Cat said. "Oh," Betsy said. "I'm not a beach bunny." "I figured that out," Cat said. "So has Sanders. To be quite honest, I think you confuse him." "What?" Betsy screeched. "You confuse him," Cat said. "Why? How? What do you mean?" "Sanders and Dale are basically good guys. They don't do drugs, they don't drink to excess, they aren't greedy, and they have never really broken the law." "Never really broken the law? What does that mean?" Betsy asked. Cat chuckled and said, "Like a lot of kids, they occasionally stole a beer or two from us. Well, sometimes more than a beer or two. Anyway, they got picked up drunk on the beach one night, and arrested. Roy and I punished them, but we didn't go overboard. To tell the truth, we had done the same thing when we were their age, but no one arrested us. They just took us home, where our parents grounded us from surfing for a week. Attitudes were different in our day and no one made a big deal out of a couple of teenagers getting drunk. "Then we caught them smoking pot. Roy and I came down on them like a ton of bricks. I thought Roy was going to kill them. He got out a hand saw, and cut every one of their surfboards into small little chunks. You've never heard such wailing in your life as came from those two boys when they saw their surfboards in the front lawn in pieces. Roy just kept yelling at them, 'There's no surfing in prison. There's no surfing in prison.' They got message loud and clear. It took them six months to get new boards. "To tell the truth, it was the only time I've seen Dale work his ass off, for money. They did everything they could to get enough money to get new surfboards. As soon as they got their new boards, they just went back to being the two most laid back guys in the world." "That's not too bad," Betsy said. She could imagine how Dale and Sanders reacted to having their surfboards destroyed. A death sentence would have been easier. At least they would have dreamed of surfing in heaven. Betsy said, "You said that I confuse Sanders." Cat said, "He says that you are a natural surfer, but that it's just a pastime, to you. That just doesn't sit right with him. For him, you either are a surfer, or you are a hobbyist. A 'surfer' aims to improve the experience of surfing each time they paddle out. They live for the next wave. A hobbyist goes out, surfs a little, and goes home without ever getting any better at it. You aren't a 'surfer, ' and you're too good to be a hobbyist. That confuses him." "There's more to life than surfing." "Not to my boys," Cat said. "So I just spoke heresy?" Cat answered, "Yes, you did. That's why you and Sanders will never be more than 'just friends.' He'll surf with you, and visit with you, but you aren't going to ever fit in his life." "I didn't want to hear that," Betsy said. "You know. It's a shame, because Sanders would be a great guy for you. You're young, exotically attractive, smart, and rich. You're the kind of girl that unscrupulous guys will try to bed and wed just to get at your money. Sanders would like you because you're you. He finds you exotically attractive and smart. Your being rich wouldn't mean a thing to him. Money doesn't mean a thing to him," Cat said. "What does mean something to him?" "Surfing," Cat said. Betsy said, "That sounds kind of shallow." "I never said my boys were particularly deep," Cat said with a laugh. Betsy said, "I guess I ought to thank you for being so frank with me." "You think you're disappointed? You should be in my shoes! I'm tired of seeing them drag home beach bunnies. I'm afraid they're going to end up like Danny. Middle aged, surfing, and chasing skirts without a bit of meaning in their lives," Cat said. "You really seem down on beach bunnies," Betsy said. "Neil married a beach bunny. Believe it or not, Neil became a cop for the very simple reason that it paid fairly well, was respected, and that new cops get the worst hours. He was going to be working the night shift. Everyone hates the night shift. However, to Neil, it meant he would be able to surf during the day. "At first, his wife liked the idea of being a surfer babe, and hanging around the beach all day. Then after about six months, she got tired of it. She decided that she wanted to be a mommy. Neil was happy with the idea of being a daddy. Before you knew it, she had a bun in the oven. "Well, mommies from the Midwest want nice houses in neighborhoods with good schools; and SUVs, to ferry the kids around in. They aren't happy with a beat up economy car, sporting a surfboard rack on the roof. They want to be respectable members of society, not beach bums. "That wasn't Neil. He wanted his kids to grow up like he did. He felt like this neighborhood was perfectly fine for raising a kid. It is close to the beach, and it's filled with lots of laid back people. We had a great childhood and he figured he'd provide the opportunity for that kind of life to his kids. "His wife quickly turned into a real bitch, once she had the kid. We'd hear her screaming at him halfway down the block. It was horrible. Roy and I felt sorry for Neil. Sometimes it would get to be too much for him, and he'd drop by the house for beer on his days off. Next thing you'd know, she'd be over here yelling at him to come home. Where we had once been great people in her eyes, Roy and I had suddenly become scum. "He tried to keep her happy. They moved to a better neighborhood, but it wasn't good enough. She wanted him to go after promotions that would get him off of the night shift. Despite the fact that he was perfectly happy working nights, he went after the promotions. He got them too. He ended up working days. "Before long, Neil was visiting the beach one weekend a month and without his surfboard, at that. She didn't think that an important person should act like a beach bum. Neil would stand on the beach, stare at the water, and dream of teaching his son how to surf. "He was miserable. She was miserable. For all I know, the kid was miserable. Things kept getting worse and worse. He couldn't do anything right. He wanted another kid, but she wasn't going to have one until he was able to support the family in the manner she thought appropriate. "One day he came home from work, and she was gone. She had returned to the Midwest, and had taken the kid with her. He was devastated. She filed for divorce in Ohio and raped him royally in the settlement. He didn't recover financially until after his parents died and left him their old home. He sold the monstrosity that she had wanted, and moved back here." Betsy said, "That's a horrible story." "That's why I have little patience for all of the beach bunnies the boys bring home. I want them to have a better life than that." Betsy asked, "So what is the story between you and Neil? You seem to be a little more than 'just friends.'" Cat said, "When Roy died, I was devastated. Neil arranged for all of our surfing friends to go out on the boards, as a memorial service for him. Everyone on all of the islands who were hardcore surfers turned out. We even had folks come in from California and Florida. "It was the worst kind of day for surfing, but it was perfect for a memorial service. There was no real surf at all. We paddled out and then spread Roy's ashes in the water. There must have been hundreds of us out there. I was crying, the boys were crying, Neil was crying ... hell ... everyone was crying. "A bunch of folks all came back to the house. We sat around drinking beer and telling stories about Roy. He was one of the best surfers on the island, and everyone knew it despite the fact that he never entered any kind of surfing contest. He would paddle out, read the waves, and pick the best one time after time. Then he'd ride it in like he was master of the ocean. You should have seen him. "When it started getting dark, everyone except Neil left. He was worried about me. After talking for a bit about the memorial service, we walked to the beach and sat down in the spot we used to stay at, when we were kids. "That's when he and I talked in a good heart-to-heart fashion. We all grew up together. All of the boys got interested in Sue and me when our breasts started sprouting. He admitted that he'd had a crush on me. He never said a word about it, because I was already hooked up with Roy. "I sometimes think that he married Bubbles just to have someone in his life. He settled for her, since he couldn't have the girl he wanted. He's never come out and said that, but I kind of believe it's true." "That's real love story," Betsy said. "We talked about the old days and the fun times we used to have. Roy was the first of the old gang to die and it hit all of us hard. When you're young, you think you're immortal. When you get older, your grandparents die and then your parents die, but you still think that you have a lot of time left to do things. Then someone your age dies, and suddenly you realize that you don't have that much time. "I think Neil and I both realized we didn't want to spend the rest of our lives, alone. In a way, we're comfortable with each other. That's not a bad thing. It's what I had with Roy. It's what he wanted with Bubbles. "He's going to retire in a year or two. We're going to pack up our boards, hit some of the best surfing locations in the world, and enjoy the time we have left. To me, that's a great future to look forward to." Betsy said, "I wish you luck." "Thanks," Cat said. The two woman finished off the little bit of tea that was left in their cups. It had turned cold, but neither one noticed. Each was lost in her own thoughts. Betsy said, "I guess I should swing by and say hello to Sanders." "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Cat said. "Why?" "I'd rather not say." Betsy insisted, "Why?" "He and Dale have two beach bunnies at the house. The women were half toasted by the time I left there in disgust. They're probably in bed with them, by now." Even though Cat had been gently telling her that Sanders wouldn't ever be boyfriend material, Betsy fought back the tears. It was one thing to learn that he wasn't all that interested in her; it was another thing entirely, to learn that he was busy getting his rocks off with some tourist from the Midwest. She rose and said, "I'd better go." "Betsy?" "What?" "I'm sorry." "Me too," Betsy said. "Would you like some advice?" "Sure." "When the surf is good, grab your surfboard, and ride a few waves. Stop by Sanders place afterward and toss back a brew. He would be a good friend for you to have. He'll introduce to a great group of people. They won't be the movers and shakers of Hawaiian society, but they're good honest people who can enrich your life." Betsy said, "I'll keep that in mind. I just need a little time." "Sure," Cat said sadly. Betsy left the house and started running towards her condo. She must have been running into the wind, because her eyes kept tearing up. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 12 Betsy stood atop the building looking down at the people below. Several people were looking up at her, thinking that she was going to jump. She smiled, backed up a few steps, and then ran forward and off of the roof. She spread her arms and legs wide while gravity made its presence known. The people below screamed thinking they were about to see her splatter on the sidewalk. She was only on a four story building, so it wouldn't have been that great of a splatter, but people aren't rational about those kinds of things. A few people turned their heads, afraid of what they were going to see. Others stared numbly, afraid of what they were going to see. In mid-flight, she grabbed the flag pole, wrapped one arm and one leg around it, and slid down the pole to the ground below. She released the pole and continued on with her run, leaving a crowd of stunned people behind. She vaulted over a bench and ran on, as if there hadn't been an obstacle in the way. Ever since she had discovered Parkour, Betsy had loved it. There was something magical about moving through the environment at one with it. There was a sense of satisfaction at flowing over an obstacle that would have stopped almost everyone else. There was a sense of liberation from knowing how to land from a great height without injury while turning the motion into a roll that led to a full run. For her it was as though her inner well of energy found a perfect release that blended her incredible stamina and her martial arts, with balance and grace. She could run atop buildings, on the ground, along rails, and fly through the air. Her fingers could find the smallest cracks, and with her upper body strength, she could pull herself up walls with unimaginable speed. Of course, her sense of delight in the freedom of movement that she felt, wasn't shared by everyone. Administrators who observed her free-fall antics and reckless disregard for walls and other barriers, could only imagine lawsuits. Every time one of them witnessed her scamper up a wall past their window, they imagined the consequences of an injury. More than one of them woke up at night suffering from nightmares. Betsy landed in front of the building that had been her ultimate destination. She slowed to a walk, and entered the building on her way to Professor Parrish's office. She was almost to the door when a woman said, "Are you Betsy Carter?" "Yes," Betsy answered. "This is for you. 'You have been served, '" the woman said while holding out a brown envelope for Betsy to take. Curious, Betsy took it. Sure enough, her name was on the envelope. She asked, "What is this?" "That is a cease and desist order." "A what?" "A cease and desist order," the woman answered. "What am I supposed to cease and desist doing?" Betsy asked. "You are to stop running around campus," the woman answered. "You're kidding?" Betsy asked opening the envelope. "No. You are not to move faster than a brisk walk while on campus. You are banned from climbing walls, leaping from buildings, jumping over things, and running," the woman said. "Can you do that?" Betsy asked trying to read the papers while they were inside the envelope. "We can, and we have," the woman answered. "Who are you?" The woman answered, "I'm Stella Bergen, an attorney for the university." "Are you a good lawyer?" "Yes." "I know a great lawyer," Betsy said. "I'm sure you do," Stella said. "Do you know the difference between a good lawyer and a great lawyer?" Betsy asked looking up from the stack of papers she had pulled from the envelope. "No," Stella answered, hoping that she wasn't going to tell that old joke. "A good lawyer knows the law, and a great lawyer knows the judge," Betsy said laughing. Not sure if she was joking or not, Stella asked, "Is that supposed to be a joke?" "Yes. My dad told that joke to one of the tribal lawyers. Like you, he didn't think it was funny either," Betsy said. "Your father's propensity for baiting Native American lawyers is well known," Stella said dryly. It didn't take long for a Druid who routinely told lawyer jokes to lawyers, to get a reputation within legal circles. Native American lawyers had descended upon the legal system with sufficient competence to have gained a well deserved reputation as being extremely vicious in legal fights where Native American interests were at risk. The joke among them was that the only thing that scared them, was getting locked in a room with Ed Biggers for a day. Even then, they said that he probably wouldn't have run out of lawyer jokes, and would try to keep them there for a second day. "He'll be glad to hear that," Betsy said disappointed that Stella didn't even crack a smile. She muttered, "I swear, lawyers have no sense of humor." She leafed through the papers and glanced over the various provisions within them. The list of things she wasn't allowed to do was pretty extensive. There were official looking signatures in all of the right places. She couldn't believe a judge would actually sign something like that. Shaking her head, she said, "It really does say here that I'm not allowed to climb walls, leap from buildings, jump over things, run, get on the roof of a building, or otherwise engage in activities that might be considered dangerous." "That's just what I told you," Stella said. Upset, Betsy said, "That's no good at all." "What do you mean?" "How am I supposed to burn off energy?" Betsy asked. "You should go to the gym like a normal person," Stella said. "I don't like the gym on campus. All of the guys stare at my butt. Can I ride a bicycle?" "Will you keep both wheels on the ground and go at a reasonable pace?" "Probably not," Betsy answered absently while reading the rest of the papers. "Then you can't ride a bicycle." Thinking that she would have to fight this, Betsy said, "I'm going to have to think about this." "There's nothing to think about. Just stop running around," Stella said. "Why are you doing this?" "To avoid a lawsuit," Stella answered. Betsy said, "I get it. If I'm running and trip, then I can't sue you." "That's right." "How about if I'm walking and trip?" Betsy asked. "It depends on what you're doing when you're walking," Stella answered afraid that she was about to get drawn into a game of twenty questions, while Betsy searched for loopholes. "How about if I'm chewing gum?" Betsy asked. "Don't chew gum," Stella said realizing that she should have seen that one coming. "Can I climb a ladder to change a light bulb?" "No. You're supposed to call maintenance." "So if I trip in the dark, while waiting for the guy from maintenance to change the light bulb, then I can sue?" Betsy asked. Feeling a headache coming on, Stella rubbed her head. She said, "I now understand why the Native American lawyers fear your father." Betsy held up the sheets of paper and waved them around. She declared, "Well, Stella, you can try to legislate absolute safety, but that doesn't make the world a safe place. The world is inherently dangerous. There are lions, tigers, and bears out there. There are cracks in the sidewalks, meteors from the sky, cars that go out of control, and lightening bolts that strike people. Every day, people trip and fall while walking. It happens and you can't prevent it by giving everyone who walks a cease and desist order. The world doesn't work that way. For me to engage in Parkour poses no greater danger to me than walking down the hall in your high heels poses for you. I could even argue that it poses less danger for me." "Be that as it may, you have been asked to cease and desist from dangerous activities," Stella said. "This sucks," Betsy said. "I'll be going back to my office," Stella said. "One last question." "What?" Stella asked letting her irritation show in her voice. "How did you get chosen for this task?" "I'm the newest attorney on staff." Betsy said, "It's tough being the low man on the totem pole, isn't it?" "Low woman." "Oh, you're one of those," Betsy said dismissively. "One of those what?" "One of those folk who thinks that sayings that are a hundred years old have to be changed to be gender neutral." "Yes, I'm one of those." Betsy said, "Then you should have said 'low man or woman' to be more correct. Even better, let's not leave the hermaphrodites out. That would make it, low man and/or woman." "Don't be ridiculous," Stella said. "Hey, I serve the Two-Sided One. It's not ridiculous," Betsy said. "I'm leaving." "Bye ... Have a nice day ... Safe journey ... Don't trip in your high heels," Betsy shouted after her. Walking angrily, Stella rounded the corner and tripped on her high heels. Angered at tripping, she walked back to her office doing her best to keep her weight off of her twisted ankle. "Betsy." Betsy turned around to find Professor Parrish standing behind her. "What?" "I trust you to swim with sharks without getting injured. I've seen you in the midst of a feeding frenzy with sharks. I don't trust others in a similar situation to fare as well as you." "Of course not," Betsy said. "I trust you to be able to leap off a building, grab a flag pole, and land running," Professor Parrish said. "You saw that?" "Yes, I did. It was quite an impressive maneuver." "Thank you." "The point is that anyone else who tries that stunt without proper training will end up with broken legs, at the least." "Probably. Anyone who does that without proper training is an idiot." "I agree one hundred percent with you. They would be an idiot." "So what's the problem?" "The problem is that the idiots have you as a role model, making them think that they can do it. So they will do it, and they will break their legs while doing it. Then they will sue the school," Professor Parrish said. "Oh," Betsy said. "Exactly. Oh." Betsy said, "That's not fair. Parkour is just part of me." "We have signs up all over campus stating that skateboarding and rollerblading are prohibited. Those signs are not there to prevent people who know how to do that from doing it, but to prevent people who push themselves well beyond their competence level from doing it here. To tell the truth, if they didn't have those signs up, I'd be rollerblading from the parking lot to my office." "I get it. Why didn't she put it like that?" "Because she's an administrative bureaucrat. They think that dictating a policy, and citing the authority who established the policy, is sufficient explanation for why the policy exists. You are supposed to obey without questioning it. It's a strange mindset that one has to get used to dealing with, if you're to succeed in organizations of any size." "I'll be a good girl," Betsy said glancing back down at the papers in her hand. "Good. Now come into my office, and we'll talk about how things are progressing with your research," Professor Parrish said. Following behind him, Betsy said, "That's easy. It's going nowhere." "Why do you say that?" "It will be a month or more before they are done putting the laboratory on the boat together," Betsy answered. "That's pretty good progress. I expected it to take longer," Professor Parrish said. To take a derelict tugboat and get it fully functional and outfitted as a laboratory in less than a year was pretty quick progress. If she hadn't brought in some extra people to work on it, it would still be sitting in dry dock. In scraping the bottom of the boat, she had done the work of five people. "It's taking forever. If you haven't noticed, I'm not the most patient person in the world." "How about your laboratory on campus?" "That's done," Betsy said. "I made a deal with Professor Wood to have a corner of his lab and use of his sequencer in exchange for a new data analysis system." "That's smart." "Thank you," Betsy said. "I've read your research plan. It seems a little ambitious to me, but I think you can do it in reasonable time." "I think so, too." "What do you have to do for the next month?" he asked. "I go by the boat and check on the progress of the work every day," Betsy answered. "There's really nothing else keeping you here, is there?" he asked. The fact was that a number of people were complaining about her hovering over them, in an attempt to get them to hurry. She was starting to get on people's nerves. Even when they did think of some task, to give her something to do, she was done so quickly that it didn't really give them a chance to get much work done. "Not really," Betsy said. "I would like you to take a break, because once the tugboat is finished, you're probably going to be busy full time for the next two or three years. Why don't you go some place where you can burn off some of your energy?" "I guess I could do that," Betsy said knowing that he was making the suggestion because he was too polite to say that she was getting underfoot, and making everyone crazy. "Okay. I'll see you in a month?" "Sure," Betsy said with a frown. She had no clue what she would do for a month. She guessed she would visit Sally and talk to her about it. Maybe her friend would have a good idea of what she could do. Walking at a sedate rate, she headed over to were Sally would be working. She muttered, "Here I am, plodding along like a good girl." By the time she reached Sally's lab, she was in a pretty foul mood. The walk had taken her four times as long as a Parkour route, and had done nothing to relieve her building need to move. Sally was at her computer marking up a photograph. She was using a photo editing tool to draw circles around interesting portions of the photograph illustrating some aspect of her research. It was time consuming and required significant concentration on her part. Six months from now, she would be able to look at the photograph and know exactly what was important about it. "What's up?" Sally asked. "I've been ordered to cease and desist," Betsy said. "Cease and desist doing what?" "Parkour." Sally said, "That's horrible! I know how much you enjoy that." "What can I say?" "I guess there's not much you can say." Betsy said, "Professor Parrish wants me out of everyone's hair for a month. He says I'm to take a vacation." Sally's brow wrinkled upon hearing that. She felt sorry for Betsy. It seemed to her like everyone was treating her friend like an unwanted guest. It wasn't true, but it had that feel about it. "What were you thinking of doing?" "I don't know." "How about visiting your family?" Sally said. Sally was sure it would be best if Betsy wasn't alone for a whole month. She hadn't been doing too well in her search for a boyfriend and getting told by others to leave for a while had to hurt. A visit with her family would put her back in comfortable surroundings. "Uh, I don't know." "Mexican food," Sally said with a grin. "Umm ... I hadn't thought about that," Betsy said with her mouth watering at just the idea of sitting down to an enchilada dinner. "Maybe you can take Alice with you." "Why?" Betsy asked puzzled by the suggestion. "She could learn to fix a couple of your favorite dishes from folks who know how to prepare them," Sally said. "That's a great idea!" Sally grinned at her friend and said, "Sometimes I do have one ... every now and then." Betsy laughed. "Would you like to come along?" "I would love to go with you, but I can't. I have fish to take care of," Sally said gesturing to the fish tanks that filled the room. "I guess I knew that," Betsy said. It was safe to say that Betsy was a little disappointed, but she knew that Sally had responsibilities to her research. One couldn't duck a month of data collection activities out of a year long protocol, and still have credible research results. Searching for another positive sales point, Sally said, "I know you really respect your brother, William. Maybe you can spend a little time with him." "That's not a bad idea," Betsy said. She did have a few questions that he might be able to answer for her. There had been the suggestion from the Two-Sided One, that William could explain things to her that no one else could. Maybe she had put off talking to William for too long. She still was unclear as to what her service entailed. "Maybe you can even take a bit of time to learn how to drive," Sally said. "I didn't think of that," Betsy said. That was another thing that kept getting put off. With a little time, and a lot of desert in which to practice, she figured that she could learn to drive. She would have to get a learners permit, but she didn't think it really mattered in what state she learned to drive. She'd have to ask Wheels about that ... then she remembered that Wheels was still in Vancouver. "What was the name of that pilot of the plane that crashed?" "Ben?" "Yes. Maybe you can see what's going on with him, while you're gone." "I should probably do that," Betsy said. It was likely that Ben was depressed by the investigation. He had sounded pretty confident that they would try to blame him for the crash. She felt a little guilty about not checking up on him more frequently. Investigations like that could be pretty wearing on a person. "Don't you have something going on with the police and FBI?" "I've done my bit on that one," Betsy said. "Maybe you can check up on how things are going," Sally suggested. "I could do that," Betsy said. Tony and his family were still living in the hotel. She imagined they were getting pretty tired of it all. She should probably check in with David and Detective Roberts to see how the cases were developing. That was a little something she could do before leaving town. "I'm beginning to wonder if a month is long enough," Sally said. The more of Betsy's time they could fill up, the less time she would have to brood over her recent spell of bad luck. The failure to entice Sanders into being a boyfriend still stung a little, particularly with the knowledge that he'd had a young woman over the evening she had intended to talk to him about their relationship. His actions had answered all of her questions. At least his mother had saved her from the embarrassment of seeing it for herself. Sally had spent a long evening consoling Betsy. The worst part of it all was the expectation on Betsy's part that once she slowed down to a normal speed that the men would start courting her. As Cat had said, she was young, smart, exotically pretty, and rich. That should have attracted men like flies. Even Sally was a little confused as to why the men weren't lined up around the block. "I'm sure that a month is more than enough time to do all of that," Betsy said confidently. "You're probably right," Sally said. Betsy said, "I guess I'd better call Charlie to make arrangements for a flight tonight." "If you're going to be gone for a whole month, you have to clear up things here, before you leave," Sally said. "Like what?" "Like telling Professor Parrish, Captain Jack, and Henry where you're going. They may know that you're going to be gone, but that doesn't mean they know that you will be on the mainland," Sally answered. "I didn't think of that. I probably ought to let David and Detective Roberts know that as well." "That would probably be a good idea," Sally said. "I should probably clean out the kitchen, particularly since Alice won't be here to tidy things up. I'd hate to come back to a house smelling of spoiled food." "A month is a long time to be gone," Sally said nodding her head in agreement. Betsy said, "I probably ought to get to it." Sally rose and went over to Betsy. Giving her a hug, she said, "Take care of yourself." "I always do." "I know, but I can't help but worry about you," Sally said. After Betsy left, Sally stared at the door. She said, "You're a physically strong woman and very confident of your abilities, Betsy Carter, but I've never met someone so emotionally vulnerable. I pity you, and yet I envy you. You've got a tough life." Outside, Betsy was on her cell phone making a call. "Hello, Detective Roberts." "Why is it that I always get this horrible feeling in my stomach, when I see your name on my caller ID?" Detective Roberts asked. "I don't know. Maybe you have a weak constitution," Betsy said. "I don't think that's the answer," Detective Roberts replied. "What do you want?" "I called to tell you that I was not going to be around for a month," Betsy said. "Thank God for good news!" Detective Roberts said. His comment hurt her feelings and she said, "Hey! That's not nice!" "I'm sorry. It's just that bad things tend to happen when you're around," Detective Roberts said. "I can't help that," Betsy said. Detective Roberts said, "I know, but don't forget that I'm still working on that last murder case you dropped in my lap." "That's why I was calling you. Will you call me when it is solved?" "Yes. I'll want to talk to the folks you've stashed away," Detective Roberts said. "Thanks," Betsy said. "Have fun for the next month," Detective Roberts said. "If you have a chance, you might make your trip last two months." "Good bye," Betsy said closing the connection. She stared at the phone and said, "It's like everyone is happy to see me go." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 13 The contrast between the lush Hawaiian tropical paradise and the harsh dry Arizona desert is not only visually striking, but is a shock to all of the senses. The rich sounds of birds, the odor of plants growing wildly, and the feel of humidity in the air is so different from the silence, the dull smell of sand, and the desiccating dryness. It is a wonder that both places can exist on the same world. Making the transition from Hawaii to Arizona was softened by the long flight between the two places. The sterile artificial environment of the interior of an airplane lessens how jarring the contrast can be. It gives the mind the chance to get used to the intermediate environment that effectively isolates the two places. Betsy sat in the rear seat of the limousine that was taking her from the airport to William's home. She stared out the window, watching the scenery roll past. It seemed to her that each and every plant stood out and was exposed to more intense scrutiny, by its isolation and rarity. She wondered if there was a metaphor for her life, here. Was she the lone cactus growing apart from everyone else in a desert environment, while others were plants living crowded together in a lush jungle? It was kind of a depressing thought. The limousine turned onto the road that led to William's home. There were still a few miles to go until it reached the gate that gave access to his property. She would have preferred to get out of the car and run the last bit of the journey, but that wasn't a good idea. The security around the property was tighter than around most military installations. It was a shame that it was necessary. The miles rolled past with her mood getting ever darker, and it hadn't been all that good at the beginning. Alice's thoughts were running in a parallel direction with Betsy's. Although it wasn't her first experience with being in a desert area, the contrast with Hawaii was still a little overwhelming. Alice said, "It sure is different than the island, isn't it?" "Yes, it is," Betsy said. "Are you looking forward to seeing your brother?" Alice asked. "I guess," Betsy said sounding somewhat ambivalent about the prospect. She loved her brother and his wife, but at the same time, she was becoming envious of their relationship with each other. They were the perfect couple, living their lives for the express purpose of making the other happy. Their love for each other was obvious in even the smallest things they did together. William was, in many ways, more unique than Betsy. He saw the future. That was a frightening kind of difference from the rest of humanity. In a strange way, it made him the ruler of the world. He could take actions that would determine the future for everyone. It was a huge responsibility that he took quite seriously. Most of those who knew of his gift, feared him. Many of those, feared him enough to want him dead. It forced him to live the life of a hermit, surrounded by people he could trust to keep him isolated from those who meant him ill. One could worry that it would make him a hard bitter person, but she knew of no one who cared for all of humanity more than he. William was probably the only one in the world who truly stood a chance a winning in a martial arts contest with Betsy. It was impossible to overcome someone who could predict the outcome of a fight and take the one action that would assure him of winning. The act that favored winning over losing could be as subtle as drinking a glass of water, two hours before the fight even begins. "You don't sound all that excited," Alice said. Betsy said, "I guess I'm just a little envious of his relationship with Lucy." "They are quite close," Alice said. "I'll never find anyone to love me like she loves him," Betsy said. "You never know," Alice said. Betsy said, "My whole family knows how to love. I just never thought about how difficult it is to find someone to love." "You'll find someone," Alice said. Betsy spotted a warning sign against trespassing hanging on the fence and said, "This is the beginning of his property." "There's a lot of land, here," Alice said. "His place is rather large. It's around forty square miles," Betsy said knowing that would impress Alice. The fact was that Betsy wasn't sure how large her brother's place was now. William had taken to purchasing every piece of property that came up for sale anywhere near where he lived. Some land he gave to the tribe, to increase the size of the reservation. The rest he kept as a buffer from others. Alice was suitably impressed. Betsy leaned forward and said, "Driver. There will be an office building up ahead on the right. Pull into the parking lot there." "Yes, Ma'am." "Your brother lives in an office building?" Alice asked. "No. That's one of his security checkpoints. We'll pick up an escort that will take us to his place," Betsy answered. "We need escort?" "Yes. He takes security very seriously." Alice said, "I'd hate to live like that." "One day we might have to take similar security measures," Betsy said with a sigh. Alice might have reacted to that statement, but everyone in Betsy's house was security conscious. She had seen the kinds of things that Gary was doing to secure Betsy's house. Sam was spending a lot of time in the garage building remote controlled machine guns that could better protect the house from attackers. They had installed metal shutters that could drop down to prevent ingress through the large glass windows of the house. "That's a shame," Alice said. Betsy said, "That's life." The limousine, creating a small cloud of reddish brown dust, pulled into the parking lot in front of a white modular office building. A man, wearing blue jeans, a blue work-shirt, boots, and cowboy hat, came out of the building to meet them. He went over to the driver's window and knocked on it. The driver lowered the window about a quarter of the way down. "Are your passengers here to visit the Carter Spread?" "Yes." "I need to see your driver's license, as well as some kind of id for everyone in the car," the man said. "What for?" "It's a security precaution." Betsy rolled down her window and said, "Call my brother, and let him know I'm here." "Sorry, Ms. Carter. I didn't know you were coming, today," the man said. "Bullshit, Rock. There's no way he would forget to tell you," Betsy said smelling something fishy. "I need the information on the driver and Alice," Rock answered. Seeing the expression on Betsy's face, he explained, "He's an unknown and we need to add her to the friends list." The driver said, "I don't want to give you my driver's license." Betsy frowned. She looked over at Alice, then at the driver, and finally at Rock. There was something wrong about the situation. The driver was acting reticent about handing over his id and Rock wasn't being honest with her. In fact, he looked a little nervous as if expecting real trouble. When the driver leaned forward as if to fiddle with something on the dashboard, she decided that she didn't trust his actions. She reached forward, put a hand on the back of the his neck, and then squeezed just hard enough to cause a little pain. "Don't move," she warned. Feeling the slight pressure on his neck, the driver said, "Yes, Ma'am." "I've got him," Betsy said to Rock. Rock tried to open the door of the limousine. The door was locked. He looked over at Betsy, with his eyes flicking towards the door. "Moving very slowly, I want you to unlock the doors. I can and will break your neck if you move too quickly," she said. "Yes, Ma'am," he replied after she applied a little more pressure to his neck. There were clicks as the electric door locks slid into the unlocked position. Rock opened the door of the limousine, and put handcuffs on the driver. Once Rock had the man under control, Betsy released her hold on the driver's neck. Rock roughly pulled the man out of the car and then searched him for a weapon. "What's up?" Betsy asked opening her car door to better talk with Rock. "William said that there was an unpleasant surprise in the trunk of the limousine," Rock answered. Alice looked concerned at the news there was a surprise in the trunk. She tried to imagine what it might be, and her thoughts took a rather explosive turn. She bailed out of the limousine and backed away. "What now?" Betsy asked rubbing her hands excitedly. "You and Alice will go into the building while I check out what is in the car," Rock said. A little disappointed at not being included in the search of the trunk, Betsy got out of the car. She looked down at the driver unsurprised to see that he was glaring at her and Rock. It was when he would glance away that she could see on his face that he knew he was in serious trouble and was looking for a way to get away. "I think that digging around in the trunk might be very dangerous unless you know what is inside," Betsy said. "That's why I get paid the big bucks around here," Rock said. She said, "Before you open the trunk, I'd like to get a little information out of him." Rock looked at Betsy, and thought about what she had done to the first of the Russians who had tried to kill her. He said, "If I remember correctly, you did a 'Humpty Dumpty' on the last guy you questioned." "It wasn't that bad. I'm mean, but he was still alive for them to put him back together. One of these days he might even walk again," Betsy said. She looked at the driver who wasn't looking all that happy about being the subject of the conversation. He didn't look like he was all that willing to talk, either. She decided that it was time for her to turn up the pressure on him. She reached down, felt his elbow, and then said, "This guy must drink his milk. He has great bones – good and solid. I think they'll make a great snapping sound when I break them." "The last guy was Spetsnaz. This one won't be nearly as difficult to damage," Rock said. "I really thought Spetsnaz were a lot tougher than that. Besides, I don't see it as damaging them. I see it more like forcing them into retirement," Betsy said looking at the driver who was staring at her in horror. "Your mother has told me about that," Rock said with a smile. "Did you know that there are basically two ways to break bones?" Betsy asked in a conversational voice. "There are hundreds of ways to break bones," Rock argued wondering where she was going with this. "No. There are basically two ways to do it. You can hit the bone hard and fast to break it, or you can increase the pressure on the bone until it just snaps. The first way, you get a sharp pain. However, if you do it the second way, you build up the pain slowly and then when the bone finally snaps the pain is excruciating," Betsy said. Wide-eyed, Alice asked, "How do you know that?" "I experimented on that Spetsnaz guy," Betsy said playing a little with the mind of the driver. "My Lord," Alice said looking horrified. Alice wasn't the only one horrified by the idea. The driver whimpered. However, Rock knew exactly what Betsy was doing. Rock asked, "What will I find if I open the trunk?" "An extra suitcase," the driver answered. "What's in the suitcase?" Rock asked. The driver glanced over at Betsy. The young woman had a slightly feral expression on her face reminiscent of a predator about to pounce upon its prey. She licked her lips. It looked as if she was about lose all sense of civility. "A GPS triggered bomb. It was set to go off when luggage was brought inside the house," the driver answered. "Any booby traps?" "No." Betsy faked a frown and asked, "Does this mean I don't get to break him?" "We've got a lot of questions to get answered yet," Rock said with a smile. "I'm sure that he'll be less co-operative over time." "That's good," Betsy said. "I'd really like to see the difference that the two ways of breaking a bone produces during interrogation," Rock said. "Are you sure, it's not booby trapped?" Betsy asked. "I'm positive," the driver answered defiantly. Betsy said, "I don't believe you. I think that when Rock opens up the suitcase that it will explode." "I'm positive," the driver answered. Betsy jabbed him with a finger at a nerve bundle in his left arm that was associated with the sensation of touch. Surprised, he screamed out in pain. The sensation was a lot like having struck his funny bone. Even once the immediate sharp pain passed, his whole hand continued to feel like it was burning. "I think it's booby trapped," Betsy said. "Make it stop hurting," the driver said. "No. You'll tell us the truth or more of your body will be feeling the same way. You've got ten seconds to tell me about it," Betsy said. "It hurts." "It will hurt more. When it stops hurting, I start breaking bones." The driver rubbed the hand that was burning. Betsy jabbed another point on his arm. Once again the pain was horrendous. His entire forearm and hand was now tingling and burning. He protested, "That wasn't ten seconds." "You're living on 'Betsy time', now," Rock said apologetically. "It'll explode if you open it," he said. "How about if we move it?" Betsy asked. "It's safe to move," the driver said angrily. "I don't believe you," Betsy said. "It's in the back of the car where it can shift around. You don't want it exploding before you deliver it. The idea was that you'd get there, carry the luggage into the house, and then it would explode once you were inside the house. Even if you never reached the place programmed into it, it would explode when you opened it. It won't explode just by carrying it." Betsy said, "Damn. His answer actually makes sense." "It does," Rock agreed. "Now stop it from hurting," the driver said. Betsy said, "We've got a lot more questions to ask of you, my friend. So far, I've only damaged sensory nerves. I've still got motor control nerves. When I hit one of those you'll experience paralysis, weakness, and uncontrollable twitching of the associated body parts. Do you want to know the really cool thing?" "I don't think so," the driver said wide-eyed. "I do," Rock said with a grin. Alice said, "I think I'm going to be sick." "None of that will interfere with the pain you'll feel when I start breaking your bones," Betsy said. She knew that he was thinking pain would be additive, but it wouldn't be. The human brain can't deal with more than one source of pain at a time. The old joke about a punch on the nose making you forget about your broken finger, will actually work ... for a short period of time. A nerve cell couldn't report pain for long, and the intensity of what he was feeling would start to fade over time. By going from one site to another, all she would be doing, would be creating a new site of pain for the mind to concentrate on. The brain would choose the worst pain to focus upon, though. Everything after this point would be refreshing the intensity of pain felt, and rather substantially increasing it. She was pretty sure he didn't know that. The driver said, "I'll tell you everything I know." "Start talking," Betsy said. The driver started. He named names that meant nothing to Betsy, but that Rock recognized. Rock took over the questioning, and more details emerged. Betsy and Alice stepped back a bit so that they could talk. Uncomfortable with Betsy's actions, Alice said, "You were pretty vicious with him." "Not at all," Betsy said dismissive of her concerns. "He's in pain." "Sure he feels pain, but there was no real damage to his body other than bruised nerves. They'll be fine in a day or so. Most of what he's feeling is in his head." "Really?" "It's like hitting your 'funny-bone'." "Oh." "Thanks for acting so horrified. It helped convince him to talk," Betsy said cheerfully. "Where did you learn to do that?" Alice asked, not wanting to admit that she hadn't been acting. "Momma Ling taught me all about pressure points and how to strike them to cause different effects. It's really quite an art. Most martial artists learn about them, but they don't bother to learn all of the subtleties of using pressure points. They are more interested in the self-defense aspects of temporarily disabling an opponent. There's more to it than that. If you throw in a little psychological warfare, then you've got a really effective interrogation technique," Betsy said. "You're kind of scary," Alice said. "I don't know about that. I just don't like the idea of being in an elevator when a bomb goes off. That would tend to ruin our day," Betsy said. She added, "Don't forget. He was trying to kill us." "That's true," Alice said thankful in a way for the reminder. Betsy said, "Someone was trying to send William a message and I don't like the idea of being the painful part of that message." "Are you going after them?" Alice asked. "No, that's William's fight, not mine," Betsy answered. Rock came over and said, "I'll need you to check the suitcases in the trunk, and point out the one that isn't yours." "Sure," Betsy said. Realizing ... perhaps for the first time ... that without William's warning she would likely have missed the threat, and would have been killed, Alice said, "I guess I'll be careful to check how many suitcases there are, from now on." "Living safely, when so many want to kill you, is about noticing the little details," Betsy said. "And trusting your instincts," Rock added. "That's probably the most important thing, and the hardest to do," Betsy said. "I agree," Rock said. It was almost an hour later that Betsy and Alice were delivered to the front door of William's home. Rock had initially insisted upon Betsy being taken to the house while he finished dealing with the situation, but she demanded to stay until the bomb had been neutralized. In this case, it was a nice little bang in the desert with the Tribal police watching. Even Alice enjoyed watching the explosion. The two women were met at the door by Barbara who took them to their rooms. Alice followed Barbara, looking around at the surroundings like a tourist. It was hard for her to believe that this was actually someone's home rather than a five star hotel. The profusion of plants, the panoramic view, and the luxurious furnishings were rather overwhelming. Compared to this place, Betsy's house was a little summer cottage. On the way to the rooms, Barbara turned to Betsy and said, "Betsy, I know that you usually head off to the pool, but William is waiting for you in the library. He would appreciate it if you'd visit him there, before going to the pool." "Okay," Betsy said despite the fact that after the time spent outside, she really felt a desire to get in the water and cool off. Barbara turned to Alice and said, "I've made arrangements for you to stay at the Carter Clan Household for two weeks. You'll get cooking lessons at Maria's Cantina." "Okay," Alice said not fully aware of what was being offered. "Oh! Wow! Maria's Cantina? They have the best Mexican food in the country!" Betsy said excitedly. "They make the best Mexican food around?" Alice asked doubtfully. "Yes," Betsy said. "I'm pleased and honored to be given the chance to learn from them," Alice said. Turning to Barbara, she asked, "How did you manage to arrange it?" Barbara smiled and said, "It pays to be friends with certain people." "It sure does," Betsy said. "We'll be having 'Mexican Food Saturday Nights' at Casa Del Betsy in the near future." It was a short while later when Betsy entered the library. She waved to Rudy, the librarian, upon entering the large room. She looked around before spotting William seated at a table and staring at a pile of sticks. "Hey, William. Are trying to divine the future from a pile of sticks?" William looked up and smiled at his sister. Gesturing to the seat across from him, he said, "Have a seat." Betsy plopped down in the chair and looked at the sticks. "What's so interesting there?" "Are you familiar with the game of 'pick-up-sticks'?" "No," Betsy answered. Board games and any other kids' games not requiring constant motion, were impossible for her to play when she was younger. She couldn't stand to sit still long enough for a full game. She knew that William was well aware of that. William said, "It is a simple game. One takes a number of sticks, drops them into a pile, and then players take turns removing sticks from the pile. Each stick has a color which counts for a number of points. You only score the points if you remove the stick without disturbing the rest of the pile. The goal is to get the greatest number of points." "That's pretty easy," Betsy said. "Let's play a game," William said smiling. Betsy frowned upon seeing his smile. She figured there was some trick that wasn't immediately obvious to her. She said, "I'm not sure about that. You always won when I tried to play a game like this." "You always win when we race," William countered. Knowing that was true, Betsy said, "Okay." "You can go first," William said. "No, you go first," Betsy said thinking he was going to let her go first to assure that he won the game. William replied, "Okay." He reached out and grasped a stick in the middle of the pile. While carefully withdrawing the stick, he said, "This game is a lot more complex than you might think. The best move isn't necessarily the obvious one. Often, the best move requires the greatest skill and lightest touch to execute. "In order to assure winning this game, one has to plan the removal of almost all of the sticks. When I remove one, it weakens the pile. You select one to meet your goals. I fail to remove one to further weaken the pile. You fail to remove one because the pile is too unstable. Your failure exposes a high point-count stick for me. I remove it from the pile. You are left with a low point-count stick. The game goes on and on. "The interesting thing is, that if I tell you why I've taken a particular stick, you'll learn my strategy and can use it against me. You'll blow a move to undermine the stability of the pile, so that when I go to take a high value stick, I will fail. You can turn the game around, and beat me." William held up the stick he had removed. He gestured at the pile. Betsy took a stick off the top of the pile without much difficulty. She gestured back at him. Selecting another stick, William said, "Steering the future is a lot like playing this game. You have to see a lot of options. You have to make your choices concerning the moves to make, while anticipating the moves others will make. You have to find the sequence of events that will give you the outcome you want. "The more of the future you can see, the further out you have to plan. The more you see, the more options you have to consider. Sometimes two moves lead to the same intermediate outcome, but the long term outcomes are radically different." William held up the stick he had removed. He gestured at the pile. Betsy took a stick off the top of the pile without much difficulty. She gestured back at him. William said, "It's particularly difficult when you are a God or Goddess. You see so much of the future that selecting the best course is nearly impossible. Your strength is so great that it is difficult to employ the light touch that is necessary to achieve the desired end." Betsy stared at William realizing that he was answering her question about what the Two-Sided One had meant, when he/she explained that he/she couldn't tell her why the Gods and Goddesses had chosen her, rather than acting directly. He held up his stick and said, "Your turn." Betsy quickly removed a stick and replied, "Your turn." William, still holding the stick he had taken on the previous turn, used it to separate out a stick which had appeared to be under a bunch of other sticks. "Sometimes, rather than going in with fingers that are too fat, you use a tool to make the moves that require the deft touch. That is what the God and Goddess do when a truly deft hand is required. They call upon a Druid. The Druids are their tools." He held up the stick he had just removed and said, "Your turn." Betsy took a stick and the whole pile shifted. Disgusted, she dropped the stick off to the side. She said, "Your turn." William placed a stick so that it rested against one end of a stick in the pile. He said, "Would you hold this steady?" "Sure," Betsy said taking the stick he was holding. He used a second stick to lift and rotate a different stick out of the pile. Betsy watched amazed that it didn't disturb the pile. She realized that the stick she was holding had stabilized the pile sufficiently to remove the stick. He said, "Sometimes, there is a need to use a very specialized tool in order to make a very high value move. You are such a tool." "What do you mean?" Betsy asked. "You will not be used to go in and move things around. Your purpose is to be there, to stabilize things, so that the whole situation does not spin out of control. You are a point of sanctuary to those who would be pushed aside in an action. It makes you, not a Druid or a Bard, but something else," William said. "What else is there?" "I don't know the name for your role," William said. "You don't?" "I think that you, as the first person to hold that role, will be the one to decide upon the name for it." "So if I say that I'm a Bottlefart, that's what the whole world would call me?" Betsy asked, and swore she heard someone laughing at her from nowhere. "Yes. Although I would suggest a better name than 'Bottlefart, '" William said with a small grin. He looked up at the ceiling and said, "It wasn't that funny." "You're right. I definitely wouldn't want to go through life being called a Bottlefart." In a much more serious tone of voice, William said, "There is a power in names. Druid means oak-knower. 'Oak' was a symbol of power and strength. 'Knower' pointed to wisdom. In essence, a Druid was a person knowledgeable about power and strength. They were the people wise in the way of the oak." "I guess I knew that," Betsy said. "When you choose the name for your role, it is important to choose wisely," William said. "Thanks," Betsy said, knowing that William had effectively ended his lecture. "Your turn," William said. Betsy looked at the pile of sticks and said, "I'd rather swim." William laughed and replied, "Me, too." While heading towards the pool, Betsy asked, "So why couldn't the Two-Sided One tell me what you just told me?" "Because the telling changes the listener. There was a time and place for you to be told. That time is now, and that place is here," William answered. "You give me a headache," Betsy said shaking her head. "I see that you've come to agree with Momma Ling's assessment of me," William said jokingly. "Definitely." Betsy took a few steps more and then said, "I'm still bound by the two rules?" "Definitely. Perhaps more so than most," William said. "You will discover that you are the anvil upon which the strong shatter, and the weak are strengthened. You are the rock upon which the wave breaks, and behind which lies a calm pool. You will stand on the border that separates the violent from the peaceful. You're a sanctuary that delivers retribution. Yet, that only scratches the surface of your service. "It's that duality of our service to the Two-Sided One, that makes us feared the most. I'm a man living in the now, who also lives in the future. Humans lie, but Daddy Ed cannot tell a lie. You epitomize that duality." "That sounds kind of scary." "It is." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 14 Betsy had jogged past the building a hundred times in the past, but had never gone inside. This particular morning, she noticed Lucy walking towards the entrance. She changed the direction of her run, and headed towards the door. "Lucy!" Lucy stopped while opening the door. Betsy had slowed to a walk. Lucy looked over at her sister-in-law wondering what she wanted. In a way, it was hard getting used to watching Betsy walking rather than running. She held the door open, and waited patiently for her sister-in-law to reach her. "Can I look around?" Betsy asked. "Sure," Lucy said. "So, I finally get to see inside the mystery building," Betsy said. "It's just a server farm," Lucy said. Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Betsy asked, "A server farm? This whole building is nothing but a server farm?" "That's basically right," Lucy said. "I don't believe it," Betsy said. "You've got some sort of mad scientist lab in here." Lucy laughed at the characterization, although the description as a mad scientist lab was more accurate than Betsy could guess. She waved a hand towards the open door and said, "See for yourself." Lucy gave Betsy instructions on how to get to the server room on the lowest floor of the facility. She had a quick errand to perform since she had some work to do on one of the upper levels and didn't want to deal with Betsy while doing it. She promised to meet up with Betsy after a few minutes. It was a substantial building with four floors below ground level. It wasn't fancy, but one could tell that a lot of money went into its construction. Betsy followed Lucy's directions, although she did take the opportunity to wander through the facility. After she stepped off the elevator, she paused to look around at the utilitarian decor. This was clearly a building constructed to meet a single purpose. On her way to the server room, she peered into the various rooms along the way. There were a couple of office spaces, but it was obvious by the contents that most of the rooms were for storage of replacement parts and boxes of computers. She strode into the large room and then came to a complete stop when she reached the center of the room. She turned around slowly to take in the amazing sight. She was completely surrounded by racks of computers. There were green lights and red lights flashing all over the place. After her discussion with Paul about equipment generating heat, she was amazed at how cold the room was. She figured they must have a monster air conditioner stashed away somewhere. She cupped her hands around her mouth like a megaphone and shouted, "Hello." Disappointed, she said, "No echo." Lucy walked into the room, grinning, and said, "I thought I heard someone yelling in here." "I was just trying to make an echo." "There's too much stuff in here for an echo." "It sure is a big room, with lots of computers," Betsy said. Despite the fact that this facility had been built close to five years earlier, this was the first time Betsy had ever been inside it. She was very impressed. Mentally, Betsy was trying to calculate how much the equipment in that room cost. The number was impressive, even to her. "This is one of four floors," Lucy said. "That's a lot of computers," Betsy said not wanting to even estimate how many computers there were in the room. "Yes, it is. There's more computing power in this facility than exists everywhere else in the country combined," Lucy said. Her eyes ran over the racks of machine, caressing them with her glance. She had created this building as a present for William only to discover that it was actually a temple dedicated to her. It was the culmination of a lifetime of work pursued for the sole purpose of allowing her access to his world. Just the idea of how hard he had worked to make it happen still choked her up at times. "What are you doing? Keeping track of the national debt?" "Not really," Lucy said with a slight grin. The machines hosted William's programs based on the model he had developed to predict the future. Several hours ago, several possible futures had suddenly disappeared from the simulation results. William said that it was correlated to an arrest that was made in Hawaii the previous evening, but Lucy wanted to make sure that none of the machines had failed. "It's impressive," Betsy said knowing that there weren't really words to describe just how mind-blowing this facility was. Wanting to boast a little about what they were doing, Lucy said, "Every time Dan's company comes out with a more powerful computer, we start upgrading this room and the three rooms above us. We spend a fortune on computers. In fact, we are the largest single consumer of computers in the world." "I can't imagine that," Betsy said suitably impressed. "We installed a couple computers on the Bloated Shark and it cost us a fortune." "We just got our first shipment of Thor 2000s. I can give you a hundred Raptor 9000s when we finish swapping them out." "I've got two Raptor 1000s on the tug. I thought we were pretty hot stuff," Betsy said. She was stunned by the computing power that Lucy was talking about throwing away. A Raptor 9000 had three orders of magnitude more computing power than a Raptor 1000. The clock speed was a thousand times faster and supported ten times the memory. She didn't know the comparison in performance between a Thor 2000 and a Raptor 9000, but she was willing to bet it was at least an order of magnitude. She had understood that the Thor series had transitioned over to optical computing from old fashioned silicon chips. "Well, we are computing intensive here," Lucy said. "I didn't know they had released the Thor series," Betsy said. Lucy said, "The Thor 1000 series will be released for general sale soon. They couldn't put them on the market until they filled our order for them. After all, we paid for their development." "You said you were getting Thor 2000s." "That's right. We're two generations ahead of everyone else," Lucy said. "A quarter of our machines are Raptor 9000s, a quarter are Raptor 10000s, a quarter are Thor 1000s, and a quarter are Thor 1500s. We've just started replacing the Raptor 9000s with Thor 2000s." "What are you computing?" Betsy asked finding the need for that kind of computing power staggering. "I can't tell you," Lucy said. Noticing that Lucy was uncomfortable with the question, Betsy asked, "How much are you spending on computers every year?" "About half a billion dollars," Lucy answered. "We underwrote the development costs of the Thor series and built the production facility just to get a price break." "Maybe I should invest in Daddy Dan's company," Betsy said flippantly. "You already are invested in it. I believe that William used some of your money to build the production facility," Lucy said. "Good," Betsy said unconcerned that he was using her money to further his own projects. William's ability to see the future translated into exceptional returns on investment. He was more than capable of generating a half billion dollars of income every year. Considering that he could allocate a billion dollars for investment purposes, it only required that he pick five stocks a year with a ten percent return in investment to make that kind of money. There were always a handful of companies that provided that kind of performance. Lucy had given him control over a major portion of her money from the day that her rebreather investment had started paying dividends. There were times when her cash flow was a little low, but those times were few and far between. Her current worth was somewhere between a hundred million and a quarter billion dollars. It did fluctuate by as much as ten percent at times, but she wasn't worried about it. Betsy said, "Well, I'm impressed with what you've done here." "Thank you," Lucy said. "I guess I should resume my little run before Bill gets here," Betsy said. Bill was the latest man to marry into the Carter Clan. His joining the Carter Clan returned the family to a gender balance. It had also re-invigorated the family. Ed ran a successful geological consulting company, Leroy was still doing research in CDW, and Dan was head of a large computer company. Kelly was basically retired. Ling and Claire still consulted occasionally on security problems although they focused primarily upon protecting the Carter Clan. Linda was still publishing books. Bill was in the process of starting a company. The family joined behind him to support him in his efforts. Betsy knew that with the entire Clan supporting him, that Bill was going to succeed. She wanted to be part of that success. Lucy asked, "Why did you want Bill to come over?" "I want to talk to him about opening a plant in Hawaii," Betsy said. Bill had set up a company to recycle waste. For every ton of waste delivered to one of his plants, his process for separating waste managed to convert all but about two pounds on average into raw materials for manufacturing. Heavy metals were extracted, plastics were ground into usable pellets, regular metals were separated and purified, paper was extracted to produce new paper, organic materials were turned into jet fuel and synthetic oils for use as lubrication, glass was melted into simple glass bricks, and electronic parts were broken down into base elements. It was energy intensive, but required less energy overall than mining and purification. There were no toxins produced or contamination byproducts. "That's kind of small scale for him," Lucy said. "You don't understand. Hawaii has a real need for it," Betsy said. "I don't think he'll be interested at the moment," Lucy said. "He's finishing up the New York City plant and he's started work on the Southern California plant. Those are pretty big projects." "Hawaii is a chain of islands. There's no real place to put trash without impacting the entire ecology of an island. Without an effective waste solution, Hawaii is going to be in real trouble one of these days," Betsy said. "I can see that," Lucy said. "I don't think the problem is a lack on interest on his part, it's a matter having the resources available to build it." Dismissing that concern, Betsy said, "I can help with that." "You better check with William first," Lucy said knowing that Betsy was prone to overestimating what William was capable of doing. "I'll do that," Betsy said, recognizing good advice when she heard it. It took her an hour to locate William. He was waiting for her in the conference room on the second floor where the business functions of the house were located. She plopped down in a chair across from him. Without introducing the topic of conversation, she asked, "Well?" "Your monetary situation is a little tight at the moment. In just the past year, you've bought a house, a condo, invested in a business, and purchased a hotel," William answered knowing why she was there to talk with him. "And?" "You're only going to be able to put about five to ten million in Bill's project," William said. Although she had a lot more money than that, she was going to have to keep sufficient capital on hand to maintain her current investment results. It would be a while before some of her current investments started to pay off, but when they did she'd be rolling in money. The water processing company would generate billions all by itself, but that was far in the future. "That's not enough," Betsy said with a frown. William laughed at the expression on her face. He knew that she had no idea of just how much money that was going to be in the near future. Provoked by his laugh, Betsy glared at him. He said, "The economy is going to go bust pretty soon. You're going to remain one of the wealthiest people in the world. That five to ten million you're going to be investing now is going to be worth a lot more than you think possible." "The economy is going to be that bad?" Betsy asked. William nodded his head. He glanced at the door and said, "Bill is going to be a very wealthy man soon." "I've read all of his business projections. He's latched onto a gold mine," Betsy said. "You're the one who is going to make him that rich." "That's nice to know. What am I going to do?" Betsy said wondering what William knew that he wasn't going to tell her. "You're going to be Betsy, that's all." She wasn't happy to hear that. She was tired of being Betsy. She didn't know what she wanted to be, but she felt there was something about her nature that was keeping her from finding love. "I'll just be Betsy," she said with a sigh. "Sally is moving in with her boyfriend. I suggest that you move into her apartment and sell your condo," William said, ignoring the sigh. "Why should I sell the condo?" Betsy asked. She didn't want to sell it. She actually liked the place a lot. It was in a good location, had a great view, and was decorated exactly like she wanted. There were a lot of good memories of evening chats with Sally over ice cream. "The housing market is going to take another hit. This one is going to be really bad," William said. "You'll want the cash in hand, preferably in the form of gold, when the market collapses to make the appropriate investments." "You can tell me that?" Betsy asked surprised that William was sharing the future with her. "Yes, particularly since it deals with your service," William answered. "You're going to need to invest in some properties like the one in Vancouver." "You mean that I'm going to need more safe houses," Betsy said. "Yes." "Why?" "Economic turmoil brings a lot of changes, and most of them are unpleasant. In the near future, a lot of evil people are going to become desperate. That's never a good thing," William said. He didn't want to tell her that she was going to have to sign them over to a corporation that he was setting up for the Druids. As bad as times were going to get, the Druids were going to need places to stash people who were in trouble. He was well aware that Betsy's service wasn't to rescue people, but to make the conditions right for the other Druids to do their jobs. Getting worried, Betsy asked, "Just how bad is this economic collapse going to be?" "Take the list of the thousand richest people in the world; by the time the dust clears, only a quarter of them will remain on that list. There won't be any billionaires left in the world," William said. "That's bad," Betsy said. She gave a low whistle and said, "That's real bad." "Yes, it is." "Where do I fit in this?" "The violence is going to be incredible. There will be riots in the street. Robberies and murders are going to become commonplace. Kidnapping is going to become one of the most profitable activities available to a lot of criminals," William said. Betsy said, "I don't really want to know this." "What you want to know and what you need to know are two different things. I'm telling you things that you need to know," William said softly. "If you say so," Betsy said with a frown. "Only one percent of your money is currently in the stock market. You own shares in privately owned companies and not generally traded stocks. Your wealth is about as protected as it can be." He wasn't going to tell her that the majority of those businesses would ultimately fail. Although they were going to fail, their existence was important in directing the world along the best possible path for the future. He had shared the loss among all of the investments to make sure that no one was hurt more than anyone else. He didn't want to be forced into a position where he would have to explain to everyone that he was more concerned about the future of the world than their personal wealth. "What's this going to do to the water purification company that I just invested in?" Betsy asked. "Food and water are necessities," William said flatly. He wasn't going to mention that dietary habits, world-wide, were going to have to change. Localities would become much more dependent on what was grown locally. The costs of shipping summer produce across the equator for winter consumption on the other side of the equator was going to be prohibitive for most consumers. "That's true," Betsy said knowing that no matter how bad the economy became that people would still need to eat and drink water. William said, "I'll talk with you some more later when the time is right." "Okay," Betsy said knowing that he wouldn't say another word about the future no matter how much she begged him. She said, "I'll take a nap before Bill gets here." Bill arrived at Williams' house a little after lunch. He looked tired from his flight from New York. There were bags under his eyes and his skin had a dull gray pallor. Even his movements had a tired lethargic manner to them. He had a right to be tired. His plane had landed nearby, earlier that morning, as a minor detour on his way to Los Angeles. The only reason he had stopped, was to visit his husbands and wives. He had hoped to get a day of rest, but Betsy's insistent begging had put an end to that hope. He met her in the gym where she was pedaling a stationary bike. Her legs were moving faster than he thought humanly possible. Watching her only reminded him of how tired he was. "You look horrible," Betsy said cheerfully. "Thanks," Bill said dryly. He made his way over to a bench and sat down. Betsy, still pedaling, watched him carefully for a minute. He was her newest Dad, and that made their relationship a little strained. The line family concept of the Carter Clan, meant that the family might continue, but the children would be left behind. One day, she could wake up and not know anyone in the family. She hoped that day was far in the future. Betsy said, "Do you know what your problem is?" "I've got a lot of problems," Bill said tiredly. It was the truth. He did have a lot of problems. He had construction schedules that were falling behind on both coasts. He had inspection nightmares trying to get things signed off while petty bureaucrats had to strut their stuff to show him who was boss. He had companies demanding assured supplies of raw materials produced in his facilities with no way to guarantee consistent deliveries. The output of his facilities would depend upon what people were throwing away. He had no control over that, although he suspected that big numbers and statistics would average the results into a uniform production. "Do you know what your biggest problem is?" "No," Bill said. "You think too big," Betsy said. "What do you mean?" Bill asked surprised by her statement. Betsy said, "Your biggest problem is that you think too big. You have to start thinking smaller and more modular." "I'm not following," Bill said. Betsy said, "You are building gigantic facilities that do everything. You have huge buildings intended to consume the full amount of waste produced every day in the two largest and most densely populated metropolitan areas in the United States. You want to take bulk unsorted trash in one end and produce usable materials out the other end." "Of course, I'm solving the whole recycling problem," Bill said. Many people viewed dealing with trash as a recycling issue. Bill used those words since it was what others understood, but it was an inaccurate picture of what he was really doing. He viewed what his facilities would be doing as engaging in a mining activity. Trash was actually an ore that was rich in a lot of materials. As ore, it was much richer than just about anything that could be mined from the ground. He often felt that if others viewed it in that light, that they would commit millions of dollars to extract the metals, plastics, and organic materials in it. After all, some companies spent that kind of money on processing low grade ore with much less end product per ton of ore. "It's stupid the way you're going about it," Betsy said with a snort. "Why?" Bill asked. He knew that it was exceptionally easy to underestimate Betsy's intelligence. Her strong physical presence made it easy to overlook that a very fine mind was encased in that active body. It was hard ... particularly when she was bouncing around ... to remember that her father was a Nobel Prize winner, that she breezed through school, and was a successful business woman. Not many young people in their teens recognized a winning product while it was still in the prototype phase, or saw the potential market for it. "It's a whole lot easier to solve a little bit here and a little bit there. You don't have to solve everything in one place," Betsy said. "Tell me more," Bill said wondering if he had gotten trapped into thinking about his problem in one way. Betsy said, "Have one site that gets the organic stuff out and processes it. It sends everything else on to another place to be sorted. That other place doesn't have to worry about organic materials. It pulls out the paper or the plastic. What it can't deal with gets sent to a third site that gets out the next thing. By this time, you've reduced the mass of waste a significant amount. You keep cascading the process with three sites feeding the site that implements the next process step in the chain," Betsy said. "How's that help me?" Bill asked. He had taken the approach of a single processing site because of the ad hoc nature of recycling projects of the past. People were not always that diligent in separating out the various categories of trash. Picking up three different kinds of trash at each house only increased waste management costs. All of those efforts didn't prevent landfills from getting bloated with disposable diapers, plastic bottles, and waste paper. "You get a dozen or two groups that can churn out the small units that process the simplest stuff. They can go hog wild with building them. You get a smaller group to build the other units. They don't have to work so fast since one of their units can handle the output from several of the units in the previous steps," Betsy said. "But..." "No buts about it," Betsy said. "It isn't set up that way," Bill said. "That's your problem," Betsy said. She didn't add anything more, knowing that it was up to him to work through some of the details. It wasn't easy convincing someone that they were going about something the hard way. She was convinced that he could reorganize some of the process steps to make a better overall solution. "It would be a bit of work," Bill said frowning. "Get on the ball, and start trying to figure it out," Betsy said. "I'm not sure about the costs," Bill said. "You don't have to cover all of the costs. License parts of your process to others to build and maintain. Make them deal with the issue of financing projects. You use blowers to separate paper from other items. Anyone can build that part of it. It's not rocket science. There's no reason that you have to be totally involved in that part of the recycling project. So put it on someone else's back." "I'll admit that almost all of the process steps are simple until you get to the electronics," Bill said. There were some complications in even the simplest process steps, such as removing the heavy metals from some of the basic waste products. A lot of products still used lead, mercury, and arsenic in them. Wood treated to resist insects and weather often had arsenic in it. "You've got conveyor belts moving stuff from one step in the process to the next. Replace a section of the conveyor belt with a truck, for crying out loud. Haul the electronics to a specialized plant." "It'll take some time." "Why waste any more time? There's a whole planet of trash waiting to be recycled. I want a partial solution under construction in Hawaii in a year." "In a year?" Bill asked incredulously. "Yes." "You're not very patient are you?" "No one has ever accused me of being patient," Betsy said pointedly. "That's true," Bill said with a chuckle. "Am I going to have to beat you up to get you off your ass?" Betsy asked with a wink to let him know that she was kidding. "You're so much like your mother," Bill said wryly. "Thanks," Betsy said. "That wasn't a compliment." "I'll tell my mother that," Betsy said with a laugh. They sat there for a minute while Betsy continued to pedal the bicycle. Bill was taking apart and putting together the total recycling process in his mind. He had the process down to little units that could be moved here and there in the full process chain. What Betsy had proposed was not that radical of a concept. He realized that he had been approaching it in a manner that would put all of the products of the facilities under his control. He didn't have to do it that way. She was right that others could deal with some of the burdens of financing construction and operation, along with worrying about sales of the products. He would still make money through licensing the process. "You may be right. I may have been thinking about it all wrong." "I told you so," Betsy said speeding up her pedaling a bit. The change in her pace caught Bill's attention. Curious, he looked down at the speedometer. It was pegged out. He had never heard of anyone pegging out the speedometer on a stationary bike before. Staring at the speedometer, he asked, "How fast are you pedaling?" "The upper limit on the speedometer is only forty miles an hour. I figure I'm doing about fifty." Bill looked a little closer at the stationary cycle. "There's no gearing." "I know," Betsy said. "Can you go faster?" Bill asked. Betsy said, "Sure. Watch this." Her legs disappeared into a blur. The bike started rattling and shaking. The rear wheel started making a horrible sound. A tendril of smoke appeared. "Stop! It's going to catch on fire," Bill shouted. Betsy came to a complete stop almost instantaneously. She looked down at the rear wheel axle. It was generating a small thread of smoke. Unconcerned, she said, "It's not that bad. That's just the lubricant getting overheated. I've burned up a few of these in my time." "I can't imagine being able to do that," Bill said shaking his head. "I know," Betsy said with a sigh. Bill said, "What's the matter, Betsy? You sound kind of down." "I'm just kind of tired," she replied with a negligent shrug of her shoulders. "If I were to pedal a bike like that, I'd be dead, not 'just kind of tired, '" Bill said with a laugh. "I'm not tired in that way. I'm just tired of being me," Betsy said. "Why on earth would you be tired of being you?" "Bill, you're the newest and youngest spouse in the Carter Clan. In fact, you're not that much older than me." "That's true." "You weren't around when I was growing up, so I'm sure that you have a rather unbiased opinion about me. At least, you don't have the kind of emotional connection to me like the rest of the family," Betsy said floundering a little for words. "I care about you a lot," Bill said. "What's wrong with me?" Bill was puzzled by the question. He answered, "I don't know what you mean. There's nothing wrong with you." "Why is no one interested in me?" Betsy asked. "Not interested in you? I disagree with that. I think you're one of the most fascinating people I know," Bill said. "Boys aren't interested in me. They don't find me fascinating," Betsy said. Bill said, "You're upset that you don't have a boyfriend?" "I just want a boyfriend." "Is that all?" Bill asked. "That's a lot," Betsy said. She knew that no one could understand her feelings. The exception was Sally, but she had a boyfriend now and her days and nights of loneliness were fading memories. For all of the talk about money that day, she knew that it meant very little compared to being loved. Bill downplayed it's importance. "It's not really that much." Betsy looked at Bill. She asked, "What do you think of Ed?" "He's one of the greatest men in the world," Bill answered. "What do you think of Claire?" "She's an amazing woman." Betsy said, "Your eyes light up when you think of them. I'd like someone to react that way when they think of me." "There will be a young man who looks like that when he talks about you." "I don't think so," Betsy said. "You just have to be patient," Bill said. "Nobody has ever accused me of being patient," Betsy said. Bill nodded his head and replied, "That's true." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 15 "Get up! You are going to be late for work if you don't get up." Groggy, and in pain, Kyle slowly worked up to where he was able to sit on the side of his bed. His head was pounding. The shrill voice of his wife was driving nails into his brain. It wasn't that her voice was actually that shrill, but that the after effects of alcohol warped all sound into something horrible. He managed to reply, "Shut up. Where's my coffee?" Shifting nervously from one leg to the other, his wife said, "If you keep drinking like this, you're going to lose your job." "Coffee! Damn it, woman! I need coffee." He said he needed coffee, but what he really wanted was a drink to take the edge off his hangover. It seemed like all of his mornings were becoming like this. He rubbed his face trying to chase away the sleep, but he was tired and no amount of rubbing would change that. Kyle was a wholesale salesman of paper products. He'd been out late last night entertaining a customer. It was a little before three when he arrived home. It was now seven in the morning and the alcohol in his system hadn't had a chance to dissipate. After a small burp that brought up some stomach acid, Kyle made his way to the bathroom. After his morning constitutional, he took a much needed shower. He stood for ten minutes under the hot water trying to wash away some of the toxins that had built up in his body. Occasionally, he would open his mouth and allow it to fill with water before swishing the liquid in his mouth in an attempt to get rid of the foul taste. A hot cup of coffee was waiting for him on the counter next to the sink. He took a large sip of the hot caffeinated beverage and looked in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and had dark bags under them. He needed to wake up a bit more. He opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of NoSleep. He took a couple pills thinking that he needed to find something a bit stronger one of these days. He shaved and brushed his teeth. A good salesman had to look sharp. Lately, that was getting harder and harder to achieve. His waist had expanded a bit, but he was well over six feet at two hundred and fifty pounds. That much weight didn't necessarily make him fat. In his football days, he weighed a little more than that, but back then it was all muscle. He deluded himself into thinking that all of that muscle had kind of shifted and moved around on his body. His wife came into the bathroom and grabbed his empty coffee cup. It was time for a refill. She knew his habits and did her best to anticipate his needs before he got angry. The energy pills were starting to kick in. They tended to make him edgy and nervous. He pulled out a pair of boxer shorts and socks from his chest or drawers. He sat on the unmade bed and started dressing. He went to the closet and grabbed a plain white shirt. He put the shirt on, buttoning it up without thought. He pulled out a pair of dress slacks. He put them on noticing that they were starting to get a little tight around the waist. He bellowed, "God Damn it, woman! What did you do? My pants are getting tight." "You need to lose a little weight," his wife said upon returning with the refilled cup of coffee. "Bullshit I'm the same weight I was in college," Kyle said. He grabbed his shoes and returned to sit on the edge of the bed. He put his shoes on thinking that it was past time to get them shined. He felt that being a good salesman was about projecting a successful image. He shouted, "You need to shine my shoes tonight." "You need to stop drinking so much and staying out so late." Irritated at the suggestion he was drinking too much and staying out too late, he sat there and looked at her. She looked old for her age. Her nightgown and bathrobe were plain; not sexy at all. She had gained a little weight and didn't stand up straight. Compared to the strippers last night, she was positively ugly. "You look like shit. There was a time you were the prettiest girl on campus." His wife didn't bother to answer. She knew that if she did rise to the bait, that he'd start rambling on about getting surgery to increase her bust size and shots to give her duck lips like some sort of stripper. She didn't want to look like a stripper. After putting on his tie, he looked around for the sport jacket he had worn the previous night. It was still crumpled on the floor where he had dropped it when getting undressed. There was a shoe print on it from when he had stepped on it. "God Damn it! You need to clean my clothes. How am I supposed to look nice if I don't have anything clean to wear?" "You've got a clean sport coat in the closet," his wife answered. He grabbed a sport coat and put it on. It didn't fit well. It was loose around the shoulders and tight around the waist. "You've got to change how you're washing my clothes. Everything is shrinking." "You need to lose weight." "Would you quit your damned nagging?" He stomped out of the house and drove off without saying goodbye to his wife. He kept muttering about how she had turned into a nag and was letting herself go. He felt that it was going to be time for him to trade up to someone younger and prettier before much longer. While stopped at a traffic light, he reached under the car seat and pulled out a near empty fifth of Vodka. One quick slug and he immediately started to feel better. He screwed the top back on and put it back under the seat before the light changed. He stopped at a breakfast place and ordered the 'Breakfast Super Special.' It was three eggs, sausage, bacon, and a short stack of pancakes topped with fruit compote. It was his standard breakfast. He took his time eating it, not caring that he would be late for work. He'd just have to tell his boss that he was out late the night before, entertaining clients. It was a good excuse, since it was the truth. He was late arriving at the office. He made his way over to his desk to grab his coffee mug. The two other salesmen in the office had just looked at him and shook their heads. It was obvious they didn't think much of him. He glared at them not really caring about their opinions. Back in his football days, he ate little guys like them for lunch. He filled his coffee cup and returned to his desk. He stared at his desktop thinking that with a little more effort that he'd get the hotel chain to sign on the dotted line for all of its paper products. They'd had a pretty good night, the night before. His boss stuck his head into the room and shouted, "Kyle! In my office! Now!" "I'm sorry I'm late. I was entertaining customers last night." "I said, 'in my office, now!'" Kyle rose and followed his boss into the office. He dragged his feet in a minor protest at being treated so poorly. Considering that he was about to land a good sized contract, he felt that he should have been treated better than that. Once Kyle reached the office, his boss exploded, "What in the hell happened last night?" "What are you talking about?" "I got a call this morning from Harry Johnston, demanding that I fire you," his boss shouted. "Why would he do that?" Kyle asked confused by his boss's claim. His boss' face was purple. "He claims that you had one of his buyers raped." "Are you kidding me?" Kyle asked. "No!" "That's bullshit." His boss took a deep breath trying to control his temper. He asked, "Did you stop at a strip club, when you were supposed to be driving them back to a hotel?" "The evening was young. I figured I'd loosen them up with a little partying at the Pink Pussycat." "Did you physically pull Howard into a strip club?" "His mouth was saying no, but you know that his cock was saying yes. He's a guy. Every guy likes visiting strip joints." "Did you hold him down, while a stripper performed a lap dance on him?" "I wasn't holding him down. I put an arm around him, and was letting him know that he was lucky to have Kat taking care of him." "You outweigh him by at least eighty pounds." "So what?" "You were holding him down." "No, I wasn't." "Did he object to getting a lap dance?" "It was a money thing. I paid for it." "Did he get angry?" Kyle answered, "It was just an act. He didn't want anyone to think that he was enjoying it too much. Kat went all out on him. She stuck her titties in his mouth and was rubbing on him like you wouldn't believe. I'm pretty sure he came in his pants." "You're fired!" "You can't fire me! I was just doing my job!" Kyle said. "You're job is to sell paper products, not pay strippers to sexually molest someone against his will. You're fired!" "I'll sue you," Kyle said. "Sue me? You're going to sue me? You'll be lucky, if Howard doesn't press charges!" his boss said. "This is bullshit!" "Clean your desk and get the fuck out of here!" Kyle grabbed a box, went to his desk, and packed up the few personal items stored there. It didn't take him more than three minutes. He dumped the coffee that was in his coffee cup onto the floor and then walked out of the office carrying his box. Once he was in his car, he took another swig of vodka. He drove off to a bar that he knew opened early. It was a little hole in the wall place. It served mostly alcoholics, who had nothing better to do during the day than drink. The top shelf liquors were bottom shelf liquors at most bars. The clients attracted there, weren't all that particular about the quality of the drinks. They were more concerned with getting the greatest quantity of alcohol, for the lowest price possible. Kyle spent a couple hours drinking vodka martinis. At least he wasn't slamming them back one right after the other. He spent a lot of time telling the bartender that Howard was a chicken shit, if he was upset about having a world class lap dance. He talked about how he was going to sue his boss, for firing him. He talked about a lot of things. The bartender didn't care – his job was to serve drinks. By lunchtime, Kyle was feeling no pain. He stumbled out to his car thinking that he'd head over to one of the local strip joints for lunch. He'd taken a number of clients there and was on pretty good relations with a number of the dancers. They'd know what to do to cheer him up. They had a private room and the dancers were more than willing to cross the line that separated the legal from the illegal for the right kind of money. With thoughts of the pleasures he was about to experience going through his mind, he was driving down the street when he spotted his wife going into a bakery/sandwich shop. He slowed down to make sure it was her. A middle aged guy was holding the door open for her. The guy bowed and gestured for her to enter. She smiled back at the man, and said something to him. "That fucking bitch is screwing around on me!" Kyle slammed on the brakes. Once the car was stopped, he opened the door and got out leaving the door open. The car slowly rolled away and headed down the hill, while Kyle crossed the street for the restaurant. It had crashed into a parked car by the time he actually made it to the door of the place. After setting his tray on the table, Carl rubbed his hands in anticipation of enjoying his favorite lunchtime meal at this place. He had a salad and a bowl of cheese soup. What was special about this meal was that the soup was served in a bread bowl. They had the best bread in the country at this place. Carl looked up from his meal to see a middle aged man checking out his food. Carl asked, "Can I help you?" Looking a little embarrassed, the man asked, "What kind of soup is that?" "It's the cheese soup." "Does it have broccoli or cauliflower in it?" "No. It's a plain cheese soup, but very good," Carl answered. "It does look good," the man said. "Get it with the bread bowl. It costs a little extra, but the bread really completes it." "Thanks, I will." The man got in line behind an attractive younger woman. He was studying the menu knowing that he was going to get the soup, but trying to decide on what to get to go with it. Carl smiled at the sight of the man struggling to make up his mind. He remembered his first time there and trying to decide what to get. Everything on the menu sounded good. In fact, everything he had tried there had been pretty good. Carl watched a very large man walked up to the middle aged guy. Kyle tapped the older man on the shoulder. When he turned around, the large man sucker punched him square in the middle of his face. The victim, taken completely by surprise, hit the floor. There was blood flowing from his nose. Not satisfied by the damage he had done, Kyle kicked the man in the stomach. Shocked by the sudden violence, Carl rose from his chair. He was convinced the big guy was going to kill the older man. He felt he had to do something to stop him. Kyle's wife turned upon hearing the commotion behind her, to see what was happening. She screamed when she saw Kyle kick the man. That was a mistake on her part, since it caused Kyle to turn his attention to her. He backhanded his wife, sending her spinning to the floor. He shouted, "You cheating whore!" Nothing infuriated Carl more than seeing a woman getting struck by a man. There was no way that he'd allow the guy to hit her a second time. He stepped over her prostrate form and stood between her and Kyle. Looking up at the big man, he knew that he had just made a major mistake. Kyle was five inches taller, and outweighed him by a hundred pounds. Mentally, Carl prepared to get a beating like he hadn't gotten since high school. Holding up his hands, Carl shouted, "Stop it!" "That fucking slut is history!" Kyle shouted convinced that Carl was another of her boyfriends. "Oh, shit!" Kyle hit him. Carl staggered back, but remained on his feet. Even he was surprised that he hadn't gone down. Blood was flowing from his nose and his eyes watered to the point where he couldn't see anything clearly. All he could hear was a woman screaming behind him. All he could feel was his whole face throbbing. All he could taste was blood in his mouth. "Stop it!" Carl shouted although it sounded more like he was saying 'dop it.' Surprised that the little guy was still standing, Kyle hit Carl again. This time Carl went down and went down hard. He could just barely see Kyle about to hit him a third time. A fist headed towards his face. For a split second, his vision appeared to blur when a white cloud appeared in front of his eyes. He closed his eyes figuring he was about to meet his maker. However, the blow, which landed on his shoulder rather than his face, did not hurt nearly as much as he thought it would. Kyle screamed when the jagged ends of his arm bones tore through the skin and muscle of his forearm. He looked to his right in time to see a foot heading towards his face. That was the last thing he was able to remember. Carl opened his eyes wondering what was about to happen to him. He peered through an eye that was swelling shut. Much to his surprise, a woman was leaning over him. He was seeing a fuzzy double image of her. For a second he thought he saw wings. "Oh, God! I'm dead." "You're going to be okay," Betsy said trying to calm him down. Carl reached a hand up towards Betsy and said, "I'm ready to go to heaven with you." Betsy looked around for help. She said, "We better get him to a hospital." When Betsy stood up, Carl reached out to her and pleaded, "Angel, don't leave me behind!" Carl's eyes crossed, and then his head rolled to the side. He was out cold. Confused, Betsy said, "I think he's got brain damage." The elderly woman who was assisting Kyle's wife, who was sobbing, had heard the entire exchange between Betsy and Carl. The elderly woman said, "Honey, he thinks you're an angel." "He's definitely got brain damage," Betsy said with a frown. The elderly woman chuckled. It was such a cliché, but often there was a bit of truth to clichés. She imagined that he was half out of it, and was thinking he was actually dead. The young woman was attractive, in an exotic way. In his confused state of mind, she probably looked a lot like an angel to him. Betsy's face wrinkled. "Wait a minute! Are you saying he's trying to pick me up?" "I don't think so," the elderly woman said while putting a hand on Betsy's shoulder. "It sounded to me like he was actually begging you to take him to heaven." "I don't know what to think of that," Betsy said. Amazed at what she had seen, the elderly woman looked over at Kyle. She had watched Betsy travel from her seat at a corner table over to the counter. Betsy had taken a direct route, which meant that she had crossed the room going from table top to table top. She hadn't seen what Betsy did to Kyle, but it had to have been pretty spectacular. The bones were sticking out of his forearm and his face was a bloody mess. "You sure did a number on that big guy." "I didn't have much time for finesse. I was too far away," Betsy said. The next twenty minutes were spent dealing with the police and paramedics. Three ambulances carried off the four patients. After having answered hundreds of questions, Betsy was finally released. She looked over at the table where Carl had been seated, and spotted his laptop. She picked it up thinking that she would return it to him. She stood outside the place waiting for her father to arrive to take her over to the hospital. She had been taking driving lessons, but hadn't gotten her license yet. It was about fifteen minutes later when Ed finally arrived. She climbed into the Hugger. "How was your shopping trip?" Ed asked. "It was bust," Betsy answered. "Sorry to hear that," Ed said. "I need to stop by the hospital," Betsy said. "Why?" "It's a long story," Betsy said. "It'll take us a little time to get to the hospital," Ed said. Betsy told him about what had happened. He listened to her story while navigating the busy streets. He nearly burst out laughing at the part about her being an angel. "So this guy stands up to someone bigger than him to protect a woman?" "That's right," Betsy said. "He must have known he was going to get flattened." "Oh, yeah. Everyone in the place knew he was about to get creamed," Betsy said. "But that didn't stop him." "Nope," Betsy said. "I like him," Ed said. Betsy said, "You haven't met him." "I don't need to meet him," Ed said. "Why?" Betsy asked. Ed said, "His actions speak louder than words. There's nothing he could say, that would tell me more about his character than what he did." "I guess so," Betsy said. She hadn't really given it much thought. It was a rather brave thing to do, even if it was kind of stupid. He didn't have the training necessary to take on such a big guy and win. She did have to admit that after getting hit once, he didn't back down. Ed said, "It's clear to me that you made quite an impression on him." "What? That angel business?" "Yes," Ed said. "He got hit in the face," Betsy said. "That explains it," Ed said wryly. "Right." "What's he look like?" Ed asked. "He's got puffy eyes, a flat nose, and a blood red complexion," Betsy answered while rolling her eyes. How else was she supposed to describe someone who had just taken two good shots to the face? "He sounds real handsome," Ed said with a laugh. "He got hit in the face. What do you expect him to look like?" Ed parked the Hugger in the parking lot of the hospital. Turning to Betsy, he said, "Let's go see your boyfriend, Angel." Flustered, Betsy asked, "Would you wait here?" "Nope. I want to meet your boyfriend." "You're driving me crazy," Betsy said. Ed got out of the Hugger as he said, "Come on, Angel." "Quit calling me that," Betsy said. "Your boyfriend is waiting." "Quit saying that." Betsy followed Ed into the hospital. They went to the information desk. After a long exchange with the woman seated there, they learned that Carl had been taken to a room on the fifth floor. While riding the elevator up to the fifth floor, Ed hummed the wedding march. Betsy, carrying the laptop, was staring fixedly at the elevator door. Her father was having entirely too much fun with this! Racing ahead of her father, Betsy stepped into the room where Carl was staying. He was lying on the bed. His eyes were practically swollen shut. There was a bandage across his nose. He turned his head and looked in her direction. She said, "How ... are you doing?" Ed arrived at the room just in time to hear Carl say, "It's you!" "Yeah." "I can't believe you came here to see me." "Uh ... well..." Betsy said, "I ... uh ... brought your laptop." "Thank you." "You're welcome." Ed snickered at the awkward conversation taking place. Betsy was rocking from side to side, nervously. It was like she didn't know what to say. Carl said. "Can you come closer? I can't quite see you." Betsy approached the bed. "Wow," Carl said. "What?" Betsy asked. "It's just..." "Just what?" Betsy asked. "Uh ... never mind." "I guess ... you're a ... a little confused," Betsy said. "Sure," Carl said. Betsy said, "You took a pretty good shot to the head, there." "I sure did," Carl said. He had no idea what happened after the first two blows. Something had happened between second shot to the face, and the blow that landed on his shoulder, but he'd had his eyes closed. The next thing he knew, an angel was looking down at him. "I'm still not sure what happened," Carl said. Ed walked up and stood behind Betsy. "Who's the scary looking guy?" Carl asked. "That's Daddy Ed." Reaching out a hand, Carl said, "How do you do, Sir?" Ed shook his hand and said, "I'm happy to meet you." "I appreciate you bringing your daughter here," Carl said. Ed said, "I wouldn't have missed meeting my darlin' Angel's new boyfriend, for the whole world." "Dad!" "Uh..." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 16 Carl had no real idea where he was. Upon learning that he was single and lived alone; Betsy's father, Ed, had insisted on taking him to the Carter home, where Carl would get around the clock care. It was an offer that Carl found nearly impossible to turn down. It wasn't that Carl was concerned about the care he would receive in the hospital; but what would happen after he was discharged, was an issue. There was no one at his apartment to take care of him, and he wasn't about to ask one of his parents to visit. He didn't want to be a burden to them. The upshot was that he actually appreciated the offer Ed had made, but he felt like he was imposing on him. After all, there really was no reason for the man to be concerned for him. Lying in bed was driving Carl crazy. It wasn't that he was normally all that physically active, but he did like to be doing something. Just lying there, unable to see what was going on around him, was pure torture. Under normal 'confined to bed' circumstances, he would read something; but this was different, since he couldn't see to read. He couldn't even see to watch television. The pain killers were making him a little irritable. Combined with being bored, irritability was not a good thing. It was even worse that he was surrounded by people who were basically strangers. He felt an obligation to be polite, which warred with his desire to be surly. He was afraid that surly was going win. His injuries weren't actually all that horrible. He had a broken nose that made breathing rather difficult. It also made his voice sound rather flat. The facial bones, just below his eyes and next to his nose, had been fractured, but not broken. As a result, his eyes had swollen completely shut. He could hear someone walking around the room, but couldn't see who it was. That was another thing that made him nervous. There was nothing worse than being surrounded by strangers and not being able to see them. "Hello?" "Hi," Betsy said. "It's you," Carl said recognizing her voice. He had learned that her name was Betsy while he was at the hospital. That was about all that he knew about her. "I get first watch over you," Betsy said. "Why watch me? I'm not going anywhere." "That's why I'm supposed to watch over you," Betsy said. "I don't get it." "What if you need to go to the bathroom?" "I get it now. You're not here to watch watch me, but to help me when I need some help." Betsy said, "That's right." "I don't want to be a burden," Carl said. "You aren't." "I feel like one." Betsy stood there not knowing what to say to put his mind at ease. He lay there feeling helpless. If he'd been able to see her, he would have realized that she was feeling just as uneasy about the situation as he did. Finally, Betsy broke the silence. "Are you thirsty?" "Yes." Betsy grabbed a cup, poured some water into it, and held it out for him to take. It took her a second to realize that he couldn't see it. She felt a little stupid, as the whole reason she had gotten the cup of water for him, was because he couldn't see to do it yourself. "Here you go." He reached a hand out. She placed the cup into his grasping hand. She guided his other hand to the straw. "Thanks," Carl said. It wasn't difficult to guide the straw to his mouth. He took a sip of water. It was nice and cold. It washed some of the ugly taste of his blood out of his mouth. He took another sip finding this one worked more on his thirst than the first sip had. He held out the cup for Betsy to take back. He said, "That was nice." "It was just water," Betsy said taking the cup. "I was thirsty, and the water quenched my thirst," Carl said. Witty dialog? He was thinking this was the stupidest conversation in which he had ever participated. What was that about the water having quenched his thirst? It sounded like something out of an advertisement. He could just imagine the conversation continuing on hopelessly, 'That was good water.', 'Water's good for you.', 'Everyone needs water.', and 'Water is good for everyone.' Betsy said, "Marguerite could fix something for you to drink if you'd like. You know, tea, coffee, a chai, a smoothy, or fruit juice." "I'm actually kind of partial to chai," Carl said. "When you're ready for one, just tell me and I'll let Marguerite know," Betsy said. "Who is Marguerite?" "She's the Chef," Betsy answered. "You have your own Chef?" Carl asked thinking these people must be rich to have their own Chef. All of a sudden he was feeling even more uncomfortable about imposing on these people like this. He really wanted to get back to his apartment. Carl was raised in a middle class neighborhood. Being the school nerd had meant that he had gotten a lot of grief from athletes in high school, but he had just done his own thing and made his way through the system faster than most. Still, he was basically middle class at heart and didn't quite trust the wealthy. "Actually, she's Ed's Chef. If you value your life, you will never criticize Marguerite at any time, whether he's present or not," Betsy said jokingly. "Thanks for the warning," Carl said taking her warning seriously. After another moment of awkward silence, Betsy said, "I've got a housekeeper who does the cleaning and cooking at my home." "You don't live here?" Carl asked. "I'm just visiting. I grew up here, but I live in Hawaii now," Betsy answered. "I'm at the university working on my PhD." "Nice," Carl said. He already had his PhD in computer science. His research had been in the area of optimizing operating systems for multi-core processors. It was an area of study that had landed him a very nice job in a company that manufactured computers. There was a moment of awkward silence before he asked, "What are you studying?" "Sharks," Betsy said. "That's kind of an unusual subject to study for a woman from Arizona. There aren't too many sharks around here except for the land sharks." "I have an affinity for them. I swim with them," Betsy said. "I can't swim all that well, and to tell the truth, I'd be scared to death to be around sharks," Carl said. Betsy frowned upon hearing that. Trying to keep her disappointment out her voice, she said, "Not everyone like sharks." "So what? You do. There's nothing wrong with doing what you're interested in doing," Carl said with a negligent shrug of his shoulders. "That's a good way to look at it," Betsy said. "I'm into computers. A lot of people don't like computers and that's saying it mildly. I love what I do," Carl said. "I know what you mean," Betsy said. Carl said, "I hate it when I tell someone that I work with computers and then they start a long diatribe about how much they hate them and don't want anything to do with them. I end up standing there listening to them with nothing to say. I imagine you get the same when you talk about sharks." "Oh, yeah," Betsy said. "Then I get the folks who are fake experts on computers. They think they know a lot, but they don't. They know how to play a game or use some program, but they don't really understand them. I end up listening to how good they are and I know they don't know squat," Carl said. Betsy said, "You can say the same about sharks. There are some fanatics who think they know a lot about sharks. Most of their experience about sharks is from horror movies. Sometimes I just want to throttle them." "I bet that drives you crazy," Carl said. "You can't imagine," Betsy said. Carl said, "Of course, the bad thing is that you have to stand there and listen to them babble on because you have to be polite." "I'm not too good at that just standing there bit, but I know what you mean," Betsy said. Carl said, "So what do you do besides study sharks?" "I guess you could say that I'm a jock. I do parkour, swim, surf, martial arts, run, and exercise." "I have no idea what parker is, so I can safely say that I don't do it. I don't actually do any of those other things. I occasionally play golf or go fishing," Carl said. Betsy said, "Parkour, not parker, is basically flowing through an environment at a run by efficiently avoiding obstacles." "I may have seen a video or two of it," Carl said. "I enjoy hiking and camping," Betsy said. "I'll admit that I'm not that good of a fisher-person. I just don't have the patience for it. I'd rather get in the water and chase them down." Carl laughed, despite how much it hurt his nose. "It isn't so much about catching fish, as it is about enjoying the outdoors. I almost treat it like an excuse for birdwatching and enjoying sunsets while doing something considered manly." Betsy said, "One of my dads is into computers and he likes camping. All of my dads enjoy the outdoors. In fact, Daddy Ed is only really happy when he's out in the desert." He felt a little sorry for Betsy. All of this talk about moms and dads convinced him that she had come from a very dysfunctional background. Her mother and father must have remarried and divorced a couple of times for her to have so many moms and dads. "Most people don't think of computer people liking the outdoors, but a lot of us do," Carl said. One of his dreams was to have a nice home in a natural setting where he could work on his computer and look up at the great outdoors. He could just imagine sitting out on a patio working away and then being distracted by a deer stepping out of the woods or a hawk flying overhead. He could envision taking a walk through the outdoors when stuck on a problem giving his mind a chance to solve it. He always wondered if he would actually end up producing more or doing less. "I guess everyone expects you to be the stereotypical nerd sitting in a corner reading technical books," Betsy said. Carl said, "I'm guilty of that. I read everything I can get my hands on, not just technical books. It's like I'm driven to learn things. I just can't sit around and do nothing." Knowing that it was an understatement, Betsy said, "I can understand not being able to sit around and do nothing." There was a beeping noise and then the sound of someone fiddling with a clock. Betsy grumbled while trying to get the alarm to turn off. Finally, she managed to find the right button and the alarm died. "It's time for another pain pill," Betsy said. "It doesn't really hurt," Carl said although his entire face seemed to throb in time with his pulse. "It will." With a bit of fumbling around, Carl took a pain pill. It wasn't one of those super-strong medications, just one that was a little stronger than the over the counter stuff. The pair talked a little longer and then Carl slipped into a light sleep. It was just a short nap, but he felt a lot better upon waking. The swelling was going down a bit so that there were now two slits of light that he could see. He could hear someone moving around. "Hello?" "Sorry. I didn't realize you were awake." The cultured female voice was totally unfamiliar to him. It appeared that he had slept through a shift change. His unease at not knowing who was around him returned full force. "Who are you?" "I'm Claire." Carl held out a hand and said, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Carl." "I know who you are," Claire said shaking his hand. "I guess you would know that," Carl said. Settling down in a chair by the bed, Claire said, "So you went up against a really big guy and lost." "I guess that's one way to describe it. I prefer to think that I distracted him long enough for the woman to get away," Carl said. "You did do that," Claire acknowledged. She didn't want to denigrate what he had done. It was a brave thing to do and he had done it bravely. It was a shame that it hadn't turned out so well for him. "I'm glad you agree," Carl said. "You're also lucky Betsy was there," Claire said. "She provided very good first aid," Carl said. The fact was that he didn't know if Betsy actually did anything. He had been very confused right after the incident. Actually, his confusion started right after the first blow to his face. All he knew about Betsy was that he had looked up and she was standing over him. "She kicked his ass," Claire said with a smile. "Who?" "Betsy." "She took on that guy?" Carl asked incredulously. "She broke his arm and then broke his face," Claire said. "Oh." "I watched the tape. I'm actually quite proud of both of you," Claire said. "Uh ... You're proud of me? Unless I'm completely delusional, I believe I just stood there and got hit," Carl said. "There were at least thirty people there and only two moved in to stop the violence – you and Betsy." "I couldn't just stand there and watch a man beat a woman," Carl said. He had a feeling that he was going to be repeating that phrase a lot in the future. Claire said, "There were more than a dozen men who could sit there and watch." "Oh. So how did Betsy stop him?" "She threw a sugar container at him from ten yards away and broke the bones in his forearm. When he hit you, he really screwed up his arm. She then kicked him in the face." "Wow," Carl said. "So what happened to him?" "He's still in surgery and has been for eight hours." "How do you know that?" Carl asked. "Kelly is on the board of directors for the hospital," Claire answered. "Oh," Carl said. He thought for a second and then asked, "Who is Kelly?" "Don't worry about it. You'll be meeting her later when she comes here to examine you," Claire answered. "She doesn't have to make a special trip just for me," Carl said. Claire laughed. "I wouldn't worry about that." "I guess I should find some way to thank her," Carl said. "Maybe I could order some flowers or something." Claire said, "There's no need to do that." "I'd like to do it," Carl said. "At Ed's insistence, Ling and I have agreed to teach you a little self defense. We'll start you out the minute you can see," Claire said. "I appreciate that, but I'm going to have to return to work as soon as I heal up," Carl said. "In fact, I need to call my boss." "I wouldn't worry about that. I talked to Dan earlier and he gave you indefinite leave," Claire said. Considering that he didn't work for Dan, he was a little curious who she had called. He asked, "Dan who?" "Dan Biggerstaff." "He's the head of research where I work," Carl said. It seemed to Carl that a lot of important people had gotten involved in his life – a woman on the board of directors of the hospital and Dan Biggerstaff. He was beginning to wonder what he had gotten into. "I know," Claire said. "You just picked up the phone and talked to him?" Smiling, Claire said, "Actually, I rolled over in bed and we had a nice long chat." "Oh." There were the sounds of another person entering the room. Before Carl had a chance to say anything, Ling asked, "So how's our hero doing?" Having learned that Betsy was the one who had taken care of Kyle, Carl answered, "Betsy appears to be doing fine." Ling laughed. It was a surprisingly warm laugh. Claire said, "I was just telling him that we are going to give him a little martial arts training." "Good," Ling said. "I know nothing about martial arts," Carl said. "You've got the getting hit part down pretty well," Ling said. Carl snorted, grimaced, and then said, "Ow that hurts." Ling said, "Don't worry, Kelly will fix you up when she gets here." "No, she won't," Claire said. "Why not?" Ling asked with surprise evident in her voice. "Betsy wouldn't like that," Claire answered. "Why not?" Ling asked. "I'll explain it later," Claire said while pointing at Carl. "Oh. Oh!" Ling said realizing what Claire was suggesting. Carl was totally lost and didn't have clue what they were saying. All of this talk was tiring him out, particularly since it was with strangers about whom he knew nothing. It was also giving him a lot to think about. He did have a horrible headache. "I'm tired," he said. "Just get some sleep. That's the best medicine. Don't worry about us," Ling said. "Thanks." Dan stepped into the room and asked, "How's the hero?" "He's trying to get some sleep," Claire said. "Oh, sorry." The three stepped out of the room. Carl, who hadn't fallen asleep yet, could hear them talking in low voices. He didn't want to eavesdrop, but it was obvious they were talking about him. "Ed approves of him." "I talked to his boss and coworkers. They think highly of him." "I watched the tape. He stood up to Kyle. That says a lot about his character." "What's Betsy say?" "She doesn't know." "He called her an angel." "He was hit in the head." "I'm rather familiar with regaining consciousness and thinking a woman is an angel." "That's different." "It's the same thing." "I suppose so." "I expect he'll be hungry soon." "Marguerite has made some soup for him. We'll let Betsy feed him." "That ought to be interesting." "Hello, Kelly." "How's the hero?" "He's sleeping." "Let me check on him." Carl could hear someone enter the room. Kelly went directly to the bed Carl was lying upon. She looked over him and shook her head. "Didn't they give you any ice to help keep the swelling down?" "They did, but I couldn't stand the cold," Carl answered. "I hate patients like you," Kelly said without malice. "Sorry," Carl said. "Well, don't loose any sleep over it. The swelling is already starting to go down a little. You should be able to see by the morning," Kelly said. "That's good to know." "They did a pretty good job of setting your nose," Kelly said. "I'm glad to learn that. I'd hate for it to ruin my GQ face," Carl said wryly. "You've got to be kidding," Kelly said. "Of course I am," Carl said. "The fact is that a slight bend in my nose might give my face a little character." "You're probably right, but you aren't that lucky. Odds are good that you won't be able to tell that it was ever broken," Kelly said. "Darn. I was looking forward to having all of the young women swoon when they got their first good look at me," Carl said. Kelly laughed. "I take it you are a real ladies man." "Not really. I'm not very good with women," Carl said. "Why is that?" "As soon as they find out I'm a computer nerd, they just kind of lose interest. Most young women are looking for some guy who is going to be rich," Carl said. "I know that a lot of computer guys end up rich," Kelly said. "They're the ones who are more business oriented than geek. I'm not that kind of computer guy," Carl said. "Women know the difference." "I suppose you're right," Kelly said with a sigh. She knew that Dan and Bill were not the kind of men that most women would consider for marriage. They were not exceptionally handsome men. They weren't the kind of men who could charm the panties off women with ease. They were driven, but socially inept at times. She was of the opinion that most women were fools. Carl said, "I am." Kelly adjusted the pillows and asked, "So what are you looking for in a young woman?" "I don't know. I don't have a checklist," Carl said feeling a little uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "I'm sure you want her to be attractive." "I guess. You know, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that," Carl said. "I'm sure you want her to be intelligent." "That goes without saying." "Witty?" "Sure." "Confident?" "That would be good." "Independent?" "I don't need clingy," Carl said. "You'd want her to be of good moral character, right?" "Yes." "Disease and drug free?" "You bet." "I'm sure you want a woman who wouldn't embarrass you in public." "You can say that again." "How about a woman comfortable with being outdoors?" "You mean a woman comfortable with hiking and camping?" "Yes." "Sure, that would be a bonus." "It sounds to me like you have a checklist," Kelly said. "There are the intangibles," Carl said. He could hear her doing something, but he couldn't quite make it out based on the thin slice of the world that he could see. The room was dark enough that it would have been tough to tell what she was doing even if he had been able to see better. "Like what?" "Fitting together," Carl answered. "Interesting." "I'd like to know that she comes from a stable family." "Why?" "Well, I figure people learn about how to be in a relationship from their parents. If they are argumentative, manipulative, or dysfunctional, then I'd be afraid that is what I would have to look forwards to later in life. I don't want drama," Carl said. "That makes sense. Anything else?" "I'd want her to be supportive of me," Carl said. "Would you be supportive of her?" "Of course. A marriage is supposed to be a partnership, not a competition." "That's a rather enlightened view," Kelly said with a smile. "Enlightened? I don't think so. What is love if it isn't wanting to help another become the best that they can be?" Carl asked. "That's a very good question," Kelly said. Carl could see just enough of Kelly to know that she was old enough to be his mother. He was pretty sure that she wasn't asking these questions from her own self interest. "Why are you asking me all of these questions? Are you trying to fix me up with someone?" Kelly didn't answer. She put the ice pack over his face causing him to shout in surprise. He reached up to remove it. She batted his hand away. She said, "Keep that on there or I'll get Ed to tie you up." "It's cold." "It's ice. It's supposed to be cold," Kelly said. "It's uncomfortable," Carl said. "This is nothing. Wait until tomorrow morning." With a sudden sense of dread, Carl asked, "What happens tomorrow morning?" Kelly answered, "Ling, Claire, and Betsy will begin your training." A chill went down his back, and it wasn't due to the ice pack on his face! Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 17 By the morning after the altercation with Kyle, the swelling in Carl's face had reduced to the point where he could see again. His nose was still tender, but most of the pain was gone. It was hard to believe that Kyle had been able to hurt him so badly, with just two punches. He'd been beaten up a few times in high school, but that had been nothing compared to the previous day. He had awakened that morning to find Betsy, wearing a knee-length skirt and white blouse, seated in a chair reading a journal. She was so into her reading that he was able to study her for a minute. He decided that she was one of the prettiest women he had ever seen. She wasn't the typical fashion model or a man's magazine centerfold. Nor was she a typical 'hard body', although it was obvious that she was muscular. She was exotic looking, with an unusual mixture of racial ancestry. She wasn't tall and leggy, but of average height and a solid build. He couldn't help but wonder what their children would look like. Carl was aware that he had been wrong about a couple of his assumptions. For one, he had originally thought that he was staying in a guest room. It wasn't until Kelly raised the bed so that he'd be more comfortable that he realized it wasn't a regular bed, but a hospital bed. When he could see a little better, he had found that he was in a room set up like a room found in a long care facility. With all of Betsy's talk about her mothers and fathers, he had assumed that Betsy's family history was one of instability. He had thought that her real mother and father had been married and divorced a number of times. He was rather surprised to discover that all of her mothers and fathers lived together as a single family and were very tightly knit. It was in the middle of the night when he finally put together all of the clues and realized that he was staying at the Carter Clan enclave. It had taken that long for him to recall that Dan Biggerstaff was a member of the Carter Clan. He had lost a lot of sleep trying to remember all that he could about the Carter Clan. All he really could understand was that he was surrounded by some of the most powerful people in the world. They weren't at all what he would have expected of such wealthy people. Who would expect a billionaire to help guide him to a toilet because he couldn't see? He had spent half an hour trying to remove the ice pack off his face only to find Kelly was batting his hand away. It had almost become a game between them. Sitting around the breakfast table had been an eye opening experience. He had expected something like out of a movie where butlers and various servants were bustling about to serve the meal, but it wasn't like that at all. There was a coffee urn on a side table and people refilled their own cups. There were a couple of chafing dishes filled with various breakfast foods that people helped themselves to. Rather than eggs Benedict or omelets, there were scrambled eggs. There were even boxes of cereal. In terms of atmosphere, it kind of reminded him of home, except there were four times as many people there. The conversation had people detailing their plans for the day, although there was a lot of lighthearted teasing thrown in. Ed Biggers was complaining about having to go to work at the IRS that day. Dan Biggerstaff was bemoaning the fact that one of his projects was behind schedule and he was going to have to work late. They were making the same kind of comments that his father would make at the breakfast table. After breakfast, Carl joined Betsy, Ling, and Claire in the exercise room. He had been expecting to do a little calisthenics, but they had other plans. He was told to stand on one side of the room while the three women tossed bean bags at him. He was supposed to block any bean bag before it hit him or move out of the way. At first, it was fairly easy. They'd toss a small bean bag and he'd bat it out of the air. Then they picked up the pace. Suddenly it was like he was surrounded by a cloud of hornets. He was swatting them down, ducking, and twisting to avoid getting hit. He did manage to avoid most of them, but a few managed to sneak through his defenses. Afterward, he was totally depressed while listening to their discussion of his reflexes, and hand to eye coordination. Ling had also expressed grave concerns about the strength of his bones. Apparently, he wasn't a total loss, and could learn to defend himself, but he would never be a great martial artist. Still, their assessments were so brutally honest, that it did hurt his feelings a bit. He now knew what a vivisection felt like! After he was released from the exercise room, Ed came to him and invited him to the top of the building for a talk. They had gone to the roof and walked over to the side where they could look at the town. Ed leaned against the wall that ran around the roof and studied the town as if looking for something out of place. After standing there for a few minutes, Carl asked, "Why are you doing all of this?" "All of what?" Ed asked glancing over at Carl. "Inviting me to your house to recover, watching over me, teaching me martial arts, and everything else," Carl asked. Ed didn't answer immediately. It was a tough question to answer since everyone in the house was working from different motives. He understood his motive and decided that would make the easiest answer. "It's got to do with you being a hero." "I'm not a hero," Carl said. "I know you don't view yourself that way," Ed replied, "but you are a hero. You stepped up and faced a bigger man who was doing wrong. You may not have been successful in stopping him, but you tried and that's a rare thing for someone to do in this day and age." "I did what anyone would do," Carl said. Ed countered, "No, you didn't. You did something heroic and you were the only one there who did it. "I'm sure a dozen people called 911, but that did nothing to protect that woman. All their calls would have accomplished is to get him caught after beating her. She could have been dead by the time the police arrived." Even the police, once they had arrived on the scene, had said that he shouldn't have interfered. Dealing with criminals was the job of law enforcement and not bystanders. Carl knew that Ed was right about the calls to 911 doing nothing to protect the woman from Kyle. Kyle had managed to do a pretty good job on him before the police had arrived. Ed continued, "You protected her and they didn't. "Not only that, but you stood alone. You didn't have another person backing you up. You weren't armed. You didn't have the skills that would allow you to subdue him without getting seriously harmed. You put yourself between a victim and a brute fully aware that you were going to get hurt." Carl looked out over the town below thinking about what Ed had said. Maybe he had acted heroically, but that still didn't explain why he was being treated the way they were treating him. He suspected there was more to the story. "I still don't get it. Why are you doing all of this for me?" Ed sighed. "Let me start with the martial arts lessons. Things would have gone a lot differently if you had a little self-defense training. You could have moved in, and put him into a submission hold, before he was even aware that you were there. A little training could have changed the outcome of yesterday's event, significantly. "I asked Ling to train you, because I don't think this will be the last time you'll be called upon to defend someone." "Is that the truth?" Carl asked. "Yes," Ed answered. "The whole truth?" "No." "Explain." Ed said, "I want you to be able to protect yourself, and others. I have to admit that you aren't the only one I've taken an interest in." "I'm not?" "The world is heading towards disaster and times are going to be rough. I've been doing what I can to get good people prepared for what is going to happen. I've found about a dozen men and women who have what it takes to be heroes and heroines. "I've been working with Ling to set up a Dojo in town. You've proven yourself to be one of the good people and I want you to join them. You're invited to be a student there. If you are willing to learn, it will cost you nothing." "I don't know what to say. You tell me that the world is headed for disaster and you're creating some kind of hero squad," Carl said. He paused. "I hate to say it, but this sounds like something out of a comic book." "I know it does," Ed said looking out over his town. His little town was going to be an island of stability in the future. A lot of small towns would be islands of stability in the future, but the big cities were going to become war zones. William had declared that the economy was going to collapse and take with it a lot of the veneer of civilization. Ed sighed. "I'm not the only Druid who is taking steps like this. Others, all over the world, are seeking out and helping to groom people. We're looking for those who can provide a buffer between the desperate people, and the ones they would victimize in their desperation." "So Betsy and Ling are in on this?" Carl asked. "Not exactly," Ed answered looking a little embarrassed. "What exactly?" "Their motives are a little different." "What are their motives?" Carl asked. "Marriage," Ed answered. "What?" Carl asked. "I think ... I don't ... There's not a good way to say this." There was honesty and then there was honesty. He didn't know how to tell someone that his daughter was looking for a boyfriend without making it sound like something sordid. He was half tempted to tell Betsy to find a happy go lucky Druid and get laid. "Not a good way to say what?" Carl asked. "Betsy is single and looking," Ed finally said. It took a moment for Carl to understand what Ed was suggesting. Once he realized what was meant, Carl exclaimed, "Me? Marry her? You've got to be insane!" There was an anguished scream from the stairwell. Ed grimaced upon learning that Betsy had heard what Carl had said. If he had known that Betsy would have followed them, to listened to their conversation from the stairwell, he would have taken Carl further from the house. Carl looked in the direction of the stairwell. It didn't require a genius to figure out what had happened. He had been shocked at the idea of marrying into the Carter Clan. To his way of thinking, things like that didn't happen to guys like him. Rich folks married rich folks, while using poor folks for their own purposes. "Sorry," Carl said. Ed replied, "There's nothing for you to be sorry about." ------- Crying, Betsy threw herself onto the bed. Her entire body moved with great sobs. She didn't understand what was so monstrous about her that seemed to keep nice guys from wanting to date her. She had heard the shock in Carl's voice at the idea of marrying her. Kelly came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Her heart broke to see how upset Betsy was. "What's the matter?" "Carl is horrified by the idea of marrying me!" Betsy wailed. Although she had no idea how the topic of marriage with Carl had arisen, Kelly almost wanted to laugh. She asked, "Shouldn't you have gone out on a date or two before discussing marriage?" Rather than answer, Betsy just cried even harder. "My poor little girl," Kelly said running a hand along Betsy's back. With real anguish in her voice, Betsy asked, "Am I so horrible?" "No, you aren't horrible," Kelly said. She understood being frustrated at not finding the right man. Her search had lasted years until she found Ed Biggers and John Carter. William had waited sixteen years before finding Lucy. Stroking Betsy's hair, Kelly said, "Finding your life partner, or life partners as the case may be, isn't easy. I looked for years to find just the right men and women. There were times I was ready to give up. I was almost at the point where I figured that I'd have to settle for less than what I wanted. "Then I met Ed and John. "I remember having dinner with Ed on our second date. It was when I told him about the kind of marriage I wanted. My heart was beating in my chest so hard that I was surprised that he couldn't hear it from across the table. I could barely eat. "I was convinced that Ed would get angry and walk away without even giving me a chance, but Ed surprised me. He listened to what I had to say and he gave the idea full consideration. The rest of the story, as you know, is history. "Here's the thing you've got to understand. If I had met Ed two days earlier, I'd never have gone out with him. If he hadn't met John Carter two days earlier, he'd never would have considered my ideas for an ideal marriage. Sometimes, it is just a matter of timing." Betsy said, "I've been waiting forever." "I was older than you when I met Ed," Kelly said. "I've never been kissed," Betsy said. Kelly continued to stroke Betsy's hair. "I know. You don't know anything about dealing with men. You need to fix that before you stand a chance of getting a boyfriend." "I know how to deal with my daddies," Betsy said. "Have you ever heard the phrase that you don't go to family reunions looking for a date?" "Oh. Yeah." "You need to get the kind of experience of dealing with men that you should have gotten when you were sixteen." "So what am I supposed to do?" Kelly said, "Why don't you take some time to get to know the men around you?" "Like who?" Betsy asked. "How about starting with Carl?" Kelly asked. ------- It was the middle of the afternoon when Betsy went to talk with Carl, and see how he was feeling. He was seated in one of the leather chairs in the library, reading a technical journal. She sat down in one of the chairs across from him and watched him for a moment. He was concentrating on the material and unaware of her presence. Finally, he finished the article and looked up. It was only then that he realized he had company. "Sorry, I was lost in my reading," Carl said apologetically. "I didn't want to disturb you," Betsy said. "I appreciate everything you've done for me." Betsy said, "It was Daddy Ed's idea to bring you here. He wanted to recruit you for his 'good guy squad.'" "He mentioned that," Carl said. "Ling says that your bones are too fragile for you to become a power hitter. You'll end up breaking your hand." "She told me that," Carl said. He looked down at this hands. Even he had to admit that he had delicate looking hands. Ling had declared him as being small boned. He knew from experience that his bones broke easily. That was part of the reason that his eyes had swollen so much just from two blows to his face. He blamed part of his less than robust physiology on being raised vegetarian through most of his childhood. Although other kids were raised vegetarian without negative consequences, his parents hadn't done such a good job with him. There had been a period of time when his parents had dropped all meat products including dairy. The timing of that particular experiment in dietary practice had not been all that great. He had suffered from a calcium deficiency while going through a growth spurt. Betsy said, "She's going to train you in Yawara jujitsu." "What's that?" "I've never really studied it, so I can't give you all of the details. It's a form of martial arts based on a weapon that's small, easy to carry, and not very difficult to use. There are versions of the weapon that look like pens you can carry in your shirt pocket." "I guess I'll see, when I see," Carl said unable to image what she was describing. All he was able to imagine was trying to stab someone with a ball point pen. He knew that using a pen against Kyle would have been like trying to stop a charging bull with a fly swatter. "Mama Ling said she'd start training you next week," Betsy said. "I guess I'm looking forward to it," Carl said. Betsy, recognizing the lack of enthusiasm in his voice, said, "My brother, William, is never wrong about the future. If he says that things are going to get bad, then they are going to get bad. To tell the truth, he has the whole family a little spooked about it. I think you'll appreciate the training before long." "What is he? A prophet?" "Yes. He serves the Two-Sided One," Betsy answered. "Oh," Carl said feeling a little foolish. "Yeah, 'oh, '" Betsy said well familiar with that kind of response. "I didn't mean to sound so skeptical," Carl said. Betsy said, "I feel like having something to drink. Would you like to head off down the street to Shirley's?" "That would be fine," Carl said. "It's a nice day outside. Let's walk," Betsy said. "No problem." Carl didn't know what to expect when he had accepted the invitation to go to Shirley's. The walk to the bar was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Firstly the houses, although in good condition, were old and unpretentious. He would have assumed that he was walking through a lower class neighborhood, despite the fact that he had just left the house of a bunch of Billionaires. None of the lawns had green lawns. The residents had adopted the less common 'cactus garden' that was more fitting for a desert environment. A few residents had even placed religious figurines in the yard. Never in his life had so many people taken note of him while he was walking down the street. Neighbors came out and talked with Betsy while they walked. The conversations were warm and friendly. They went beyond simple courtesy exchanges concerning the weather. They talked about major events in their families that Betsy might have missed, during her absence from the town. There were a lot of questions about life in Hawaii, and several people said that they would like to go there for their next vacation. Anyone who expressed an interest in visiting Hawaii was invited to come stay at Betsy's house. Carl had a feeling that the invitations were sincere, and that if any of the neighbors were to show up at her house, Betsy would be a perfect hostess. In return, Betsy had received several offers to use their vacation homes in the event that she wanted to get away. One neighbor even went so far as to give Betsy a key to a condominium in Los Angeles that she could use in the event that she had to stay overnight in L.A., if she were stranded while traveling. It was a kind of open invitation that shocked Carl. Carl thought he was used to sophisticated jaded folks. To be honest, he expected the locals to be backwards hicks compared to their city brethren. The folks out here were blase about things that would have started riots, where he lived. He had watched the local priest enter a house in which the woman who answered the door was wearing nothing more than a bikini bottom. He was surprised to see quite a bit of nudity with men, women, and children sun bathing naked in their backyards. No one had made much of an issue out of his raccoon eyes. Their low key reaction to his appearance made him so curious that he finally had to ask Betsy about it. He learned that they had assumed that he had been injured in a training session with her. That was when he learned that all of the kids in town had some level of martial arts training. It seemed to him that everyone had that easy going nature that came from being totally confident that they could handle anything life threw at them. They even moved with a natural grace that was surprising. They looked each other in the eye. They reached out to touch, with an ease that was neither practiced or forced, but was completely natural. One of the biggest topics was how calm and sedate Betsy was acting. Never having experienced Betsy when she was constantly moving, Carl didn't really understand the discussions. Everyone remarked about how Betsy would now be able to enjoy things that had once been impossible. By the time they reached Shirley's bar, Carl was ready for something to drink. The locals all treated the heat as if it was nothing, but he was sweaty and thirsty from the short walk, which had turned into an hour long trip. As soon as they entered the bar, Shirley greeted them, "Hello, Betsy, what's your poison?" "Ice tea." "I have milk." "I'd rather have an iced tea," Betsy said. "How about you, handsome?" "I think I'd like a beer," Carl answered while wiping the sweat from his brow. "Maybe you ought to have an iced tea to get re-hydrated first," Shirley suggested. "Okay," Carl said, uncertainly. He was not used to having a bartender override his order. After a moment of thought, he realized that she was probably right. "After an iced tea, you'll feel better, and enjoy the beer more." "You're probably right." Betsy and Carl took a seat at a table. They were seated facing each other rather than side by side. It kept the table between them. Shirley showed up a minute later with two large iced teas. Setting the ice cold tea down on the table, she asked, "Betsy, are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?" Betsy and Carl both looked a little uncomfortable by the question. They both nervously shifted in their seat. Betsy finally answered, "This is Carl. Carl, this is my Aunt Shirley." "Nice to meet you, Carl," Shirley said. "Nice to meet you, Ma'am." "So what happened to your face?" Shirley asked. Betsy said, "He stopped a very large and angry man from hitting a woman." "Ed mentioned something about some excitement in Phoenix yesterday. That was nice of you," Shirley said. "I didn't really stop him," Carl said. "I diverted his attention for about ... oh ... three seconds." "Every little bit helps," Shirley said with a smile. Betsy took a sip of her iced tea. "I guess I was lucky Betsy was there," Carl said. Betsy said, "Don't minimize what you did. He would have hit, or even kicked, that woman one more time before I got there. You really did help her." "If you say so," Carl said doubtfully. It seemed strange to him that everyone made such a big deal out of what he had done. If he understood his hero mythology correctly, it was supposed to end up with him triumphantly standing over the villain while beating his chest, rather than lying on the floor with a bloody nose and crossed eyes! "It sure is nice to see you just sitting there, rather than on the exercise bike, over there in the corner," Shirley said. Betsy said, "I guess you can get rid of it now." "Ah, a couple of folks actually come in and use it on occasion," Shirley said. "I appreciate you having it here for me," Betsy said. There were little places all over that had stationary bikes for her to use while there. It was a strange kind of legacy to leave behind. "What's all this about you having calmed down?" Carl asked. Betsy said, "I used to be ... I guess you might say I was hyperactive." "'Hyperactive' doesn't do it justice. She was continually moving. I'd bet she's run over twenty thousand miles in her lifetime." "That's probably a little low. I've easily run at least ten miles a day every day for the past twenty years. Some days I've run more than that and a few a little less. Let's say in round numbers, I've probably run about sixty or seventy thousand miles," Betsy said. A more thorough calculation would have given an estimate that she had run a distance of over seventy three thousand miles during a twenty year period. She had also effectively pedaled nearly twice that distance, particularly taking into account the hours spend on exercise bicycles, while going through school. She had also covered about ten thousand miles swimming. "That's incredible," Carl said. Shirley said, "Sometimes it was enough to drive a person crazy being around her. She just couldn't sit still." "That must have been hard on you," Carl said looking at Betsy. "You have no idea. I had to ride an exercise bike throughout school," Betsy said. "Didn't you ever get tired?" Carl asked. "No," Betsy answered. "I can't imagine running that kind of distance even if spread over a twenty year period," Carl said shaking his head. He wasn't exactly an athletic person. The idea of running a mile gave him a headache. He couldn't imagine running at least ten miles a day, day in and day out. Not only would it be tiring, but it would get in the way of all kinds of other activities. "That was my life until recently. I was running, jumping, swimming, or dancing constantly," Betsy said. Shirley said, "I think she maybe managed to sit still for two minutes one time." "Wow," Carl said. "You must have been miserable." "Why do you say that?" "You couldn't play board games, go to movies, or learn to play a musical instrument. What could you do for fun?" Carl said. "You're right," Betsy said. "There were a lot of things I couldn't do." "You couldn't even fly a kite." "I've never flown a kite," Betsy said. "Some of my best memories as a child were of flying a kite with my father," Carl said. He looked across the room as if seeing something in the distance. He said, "Going to fly a kite was a really big deal when I was a little kid. We'd prepare for an outing days in advance. "We'd spend a day or two making the kite. Getting the wood for it, making the frame, covering it with newspaper or tissue paper, and then making the tail. On the morning of the trip, we'd get up early to pack a picnic lunch and leave for the park so that we'd get there in time to catch the morning winds. It was an adventure that lasted the whole day." "That sounds like fun." "When I was a little kid, we used to fly simple diamond kites. That's the kind of kite most people think of when you talk about kites. When I got a little older, we built and flew all kinds of kites like delta, sled, and box kites. We even made some exotic kites that were huge." "I didn't know there were different kinds of kites," Betsy said. Thinking back over her childhood, she couldn't remember any of the Carter kids going out and flying kites. Of course, John and Beth were a lot older than she was, and William wasn't a typical kid. Eddie was interested in horses, rocks, and the desert. Now that Carl was talking about it, she felt like they might have been cheated a bit. "We're going to have to get you a kite to fly." "I'd love to, but I've got to leave for Vancouver, tomorrow," Betsy said regretting that she had changed her plans after hearing what he had said on the roof to her father. "What's going on there?" "A bad situation came to an end, just recently," Betsy said. Shortly after Carl's experience in the gym that morning, she had learned from David, the FBI agent, that the spy ring that had been after the plans for the FG gun had been caught, two days earlier. The four men were opportunists looking to sell the plans to the highest bidder. The amount of money they would have received was a minor fraction of the amount that had been invested in its development. Yet there were insurgent groups around the world that could have taken those plans and created weapons capable of shooting down aircraft with munitions that cost pennies rather than thousands of dollars. She wondered if the device would ever see the light of day. After hearing Carl's reaction to Ed's suggestion about marriage with her, she had made arrangements to swing by Vancouver. Although it was more of an excuse to avoid further embarrassing herself, she did want to personally let Tony know that he and his family could return home. She was pretty sure that he'd be happy to get home and return to a normal life. The trip there would also give her a chance to learn how well the motel had served as a safe house. She had located a couple of other hotels in similar out of the way locations that could also serve as safe houses. William had suggested that she get a couple more. After checking out a couple of hotels, she planned to fly to Winnipeg to met up with Ben, the man who had been pilot of the plane that crashed. She was hoping that she could hire him to be her regular pilot. She would also ask him to find a plane that she could purchase for the short flight between islands. "I guess that's good news." "Yes." "Do you travel a lot?" Carl asked. "I guess you could say that." Carl said, "I don't like to travel. I'm a 'stay at home' kind of person. That jet setting lifestyle of yours would drive me crazy." "I'm not a jet setter," Betsy said defensively. "I go to places on business. I don't go somewhere to just lie around like some kind of beach bunny." "I didn't mean to imply that. It's just that I'm not comfortable with the idea of leaving home, much. My idea of an adventure is going to the local park and flying a kite, not getting on an airplane and flying to an exotic location," Carl said. "Vancouver isn't all that exotic," Betsy said. "I know." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 18 It was three o'clock in the morning when the jet Betsy was on arrived at the Honolulu airport. It touched down on the runway, and taxied over to the hangar. Betsy looked out the window. There was one person on duty, along with the limousine driver waiting for them to exit the jet. The man on duty was wearing the overalls that identified him as a mechanic. The limousine driver was wearing the typical black outfit of commercial limo drivers everywhere. While gathering her stuff, Betsy asked the stewardess, "What are your plans for the rest of the night?" "We'll catch a taxi and head over to a hotel," the stewardess answered. "Do you have hotel reservations?" Betsy asked. "Yes." Betsy said, "I've got a limo here. Why don't you and the rest of the crew come with me? I'll have the driver drop you off at the hotel." "That would be great. Let me tell everyone else," the stewardess said with a genuine smile, rather than her typical 'work smile.' While the stewardess was letting everyone know about the offer of a ride to the hotel, Betsy went over to the limo driver. He was leaning against the wall reading a paperback book. Based on past experience, he knew that it would take them a few minutes to unload the plane. He started to slip the book into his pocket. "Do you mind dropping the crew off at a hotel?" Betsy asked. "I don't mind. You might want to check availability of rooms before we leave. We just had a ton of Japanese tourists descend upon us," the driver said. It was some holiday in Japan, and a number of tours had been scheduled during that week. Tourism on the island was driven by holidays. It seemed like everyone wanted to take advantage of a holiday to minimize the number of vacation days they used on a trip. "They've already got reservations set up for a late arrival," Betsy said. "You might want to have them check before we get there," the driver said. "Hotels sometimes decide that this late in the night means a no show." "I'll let them know," Betsy said. She looked back at the jet. She knew that the crew would spend at least twenty minutes making sure that the jet was left in a condition appropriate for the next paying fare. The delay didn't really bother her. Despite the late hour, she was still on Rocky Mountain Time. That didn't mean that she wasn't tired, just that she wasn't all that tired. "What were you reading?" Betsy asked. "A murder mystery," the man answered holding the book up so that she could see the cover. "Is it any good?" The driver said, "It's okay. It's kind of weird, but it seems to me that all of these stories are about murder victims who are rich. I read a lot of murder mysteries and they're all the same. I'd kind of like to read one where the victim is a regular person." "So write one," Betsy said. "I couldn't do that," the driver said. "Why not?" "I wouldn't know where to begin," the driver said. Pointing to the book he was reading, Betsy asked, "Where does that book begin?" "It begins with the discovery of the body." "So start your story there." "Nobody wants to read a murder mystery about a regular person." "You do," Betsy said. "Oh, yeah. I guess I do," the driver said. "So write one." "I just might do that," the driver said. Betsy said, "If you've got enough time to read a couple of books, then I'd say that you've got plenty of time to work on writing one." "I guess I do," the driver said. While Betsy walked off, he mumbled, "Joe Average ... that's stupid. Anyman ... no Everyman ... no, that's not a name. I can break that up into two names, Eve Ryman. Yeah, I like that. Detective Eve Ryman ... yeah ... that's good." Several years later, an up and coming author was on a talk show discussing his second mystery novel that starred his, now famous, detective – Eve Ryman. When he was asked about how he got started writing murder mysteries, he talked about having been a limousine driver and reading murder mysteries while waiting for his customers. He mentioned a young woman had suggested that rather than reading the stories, that he start writing them. He'd taken her advice, and was happy that he had. Betsy returned to the jet to check up on the crew. They were busy straightening up the cabin while the pilots were filling in their log books. She joined in and helped the crew straighten things up. It didn't take them long to finish and get in the limousine for the ride to the hotel. While riding to the hotel, Betsy stared out the window thinking about her situation. Her track record in finding a boyfriend wasn't very impressive – five guys and five misses. Maybe, Carl could have been the one, but he was pretty adamant that the idea of marrying her was ridiculous. That wasn't a very promising beginning for a relationship. She had to admit that her rather abrupt departure put an end to anything on that front. She sighed. The limousine pulled up in front of the hotel. The flight crew disembarked from the car and headed to the check-in desk pulling their luggage behind them. She watched the first person in the line check in. Satisfied that the hotel had honored the reservations despite the late hour, she told the driver to take her home. It was almost four in the morning when she reached her condominium. She entered the place and looked around at her surroundings. It was a nice place, by any standard. The furnishings were all top quality. The living room had an excellent view of the ocean. The problem was that it had an empty kind of feel to it. It had been a while since Sally and she had spent a night there doing things that young women do when having a slumber party. The only other visitors there had been family or staff. In terms of good times enjoyed there, there just weren't that many. It wouldn't be difficult to sell the place. She didn't know how she felt about the idea of selling it, but knew she would follow William's advice. She decided that she wouldn't really miss it all that much and might even enjoy living in Sally's apartment, despite the fact that it was smaller and had a much worse view. She hoped the smaller place would have a more intimate feel to it than the condo. Depressed, Betsy went to bed. ------- Betsy stepped aboard the Bloated Shark. The autonomous mini sub was parked on the back, nestled into the cradle that was its support while on board the boat. She climbed up to the sub, opened the equipment hatches, and studied the equipment inside. There were a number of sensors placed on the surface of the craft, designed to measure all kinds of things. Data recorders filled the inside of the submarine. She closed up the sub and headed up to the laboratory. It looked like all of the equipment was in place. She opened individual cabinets and checked the contents. It appeared that it was fully stocked. She guessed that Paul had been busy during the month that she had been gone. She stopped at the cabinet that contained the shark 'tags': the tracking devices. There were two dozen of them. Each of them had a fusion battery that would last for three years. They would broadcast the position of the tagged sharks once every ten minutes. If it was too deep, the signal wouldn't reach the satellite, but she knew that they would collect sufficient data to map out migration routes of the sharks. She stepped into the little room which held the computer equipment. There was a real chill in the air despite the fact that all of the equipment was running. She noticed that two 'Thor 9000' computers had been added to one of the racks. She realized that Lucy had sent them to the school. She wondered how Professor Parrish had reacted to the appearance of two fifty-thousand-dollar computers. She went out to the break area. Captain Jack was seated on one of the chairs watching the news on the wide screen television. He rose when she entered the room. "Hello, Betsy." "Hello, Captain Jack. You've been busy while I was away." "Paul was the busy one, not me. He installed the last computer two days ago," Captain Jack said. "Have you taken her out for a shakedown trip yet?" Betsy asked. "No. I thought I'd wait until you got here," Captain Jack answered. She looked around thinking she was going to be busy for the next few months. It was long past time when she started making real progress on collecting data for her research. "I guess we should go over the checklist," Betsy said. Captain Jack nodded his head in agreement and said, "Let's get to it." The pair went over the checklist, one item at a time. It took almost five hours to complete the inspection. It was boring, but necessary. Captain Jack, who had gone through the list the previous day, was not surprised by the results. Betsy was very pleased by the results. Captain Jack asked, "When do you want to take her out for a shakedown voyage?" It was a difficult question to answer. She had a few things to take care of after having been gone for a month. She had to see what was going on at school, see about renting Sally's apartment, contact a relator to list the condo, and check in at the house. Betsy said, "I guess we can leave Tuesday." "How long do you want to stay out?" "I guess a week would be good." Captain Jack said, "I'll call the crew and let them know that we leave Tuesday. We'll spend Monday loading supplies for the trip." "Good," Betsy replied. "I'll swing by the school and see what's up." "I'm sure there are things there that will require your attention," Captain Jack said. ------- "Hello, Betsy." "Hello, Sally." "How was your trip?" "It was okay. How have things been, here?" "I'm trying to move in with Steve, but my landlord is being an asshole. He says I signed a year's lease, so I have to pay a year's rent," Sally said. "I'll take over the apartment for you," Betsy said. "You've got the condo." "William says that I should sell it," Betsy said. "You like your condo," Sally said with a frown. "If William says that I should sell it, then I'll sell it. He is never wrong," Betsy said. "Never?" "Never." "He's kind of strange," Sally said. Betsy laughed. Although she didn't think about it, it was the first time she had laughed in a long time. "Yes, he is." Sally said, "I'll talk to the landlord and see what he says about subletting it to you." "That would be nice," Betsy said. "I'll have to let you know, tomorrow. Steve is taking me out to dinner and a movie, tonight." "I hope you have a good time," Betsy said trying not to sound disappointed. She had hoped to spend a little time with Sally that evening. It was a minor blow to learn that Sally had other plans. It appeared that Betsy was going to be spending another night alone. She could go to a restaurant where she'd be surrounded by people. The problem was that she didn't feel like going out to dinner, alone. She decided that she'd just have something delivered. "I'm sure we will," Sally said. "I really like Steve." "I'm happy for you," Betsy said. The two women chatted for a while. They didn't cover anything too earth shaking. In some ways, it was almost like an exchange of progress reports. Sally described her research progress; while Betsy covered her trip, and the visit to the boat. Betsy excused herself as she said that she needed to talk to Professor Parrish before he left for the night. Sally nodded her understanding, and returned to her work. She was now about a quarter of the way through the first year protocol, and was getting exactly the results she had predicted. Betsy visited for an hour with Professor Parrish. After a little small talk about how she had spent her month away, they got down to the serious business of discussing her research. Her slow time was coming to an end. She'd be spending at least a week out on the water, every month, with time in the lab doing genetic studies based on the samples she was to collect. It was one of the first conversations that had truly captured her entire interest, and the time passed almost too quickly. Betsy left the office a little disappointed that she didn't have others with whom she could discuss the particulars of her research. Stepping outside the building, Betsy felt like taking off and running a little Parkour between there and her apartment. She had taken about three steps and then remembered the cease and desist order. Her shoulders slumped and she made her way off campus at a sedate walk. She had nearly reached the edge of campus when she noticed a young couple seated on a bench waiting for the bus. Both were wearing identical shirts: a loose jersey, with the logo of the school's football team on it. They were sitting relatively far apart, but they were turned to face each other with their knees touching. Everything about their posture suggested that they were in love. They were holding hands gazing lovingly at one another. She paused to stare at them wondering how it was that they had met. She compared herself to the woman. Perhaps it was vanity, but she couldn't help thinking that she was the better looking of the two. It didn't seem fair. Depressed, Betsy continued on her way home. It seemed to her that everywhere she looked there were young couples engaged in the mating dance. She didn't think she ever had seen so many couples holding hands as she did that day. At home, Betsy called the local Chinese delivery place, and ordered a huge meal. It was delivered thirty minutes later. She ate it seated alone at the table in the dining room. She looked around the table thinking that it was pretty big for one person. So far, the greatest number of people who had eaten at it, was two: herself and Sally. The next four hours were spent running on her treadmill. She set a nice pace of ten miles an hour. Once she started running, she just kept going. She stopped only because it was getting late, and headed to bed. Sprawled out in her king sized bed, she wondered if she'd ever have a chance to share it with someone. ------- After breakfast, Betsy was on the phone with Charlie, to make arrangements to get a relator involved in selling the condo. It was a short conversation. Charlie didn't act all that surprised by the request. Betsy accepted that she would be renting Sally's apartment just on the basis that William had said she should do it. Betsy went to school and met with Henry. She spent some time in her laboratory, and then went home, alone again. She kept that schedule until Friday, when she flew to her home on Kauai. Sally and Steve did not accompany her, since Sally was busy moving into Steve's apartment. Betsy had volunteered to help, but they had turned her down. Betsy spent the flight staring out the window of the airplane. ------- Saturday morning, Betsy went for a run after having spent two hours in the ocean swimming with the sharks. She was wearing her running shorts, a sports bra, a loose tee shirt, and a pair of running shoes. Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail. She crested the small hill that was before the little town. It was a strange little town with a gas station, a convenience store, a small grocery store/pharmacy, a little breakfast and lunch place, and a burger joint. There were a handful of houses scattered off the main road. The businesses served the locals for most of their basic needs. Anyone wanting clothes, electronics or larger purchases had to go to the larger town, further down the highway. Below her, she noticed the guy who ran the small convenience store seated at the chair in front of his shop. It was a strange kind of shop. It had once been a gas station, but had been converted to a convenience store. The owner kept the doors to the repair bays and would open the doors so that the whole front of the store was open. The owner appeared to be a real odd one. He sat in front of the store on a lawn chair watching the world go past. Folks would shop and he would only go inside when they were ready to check out. There were times when he wasn't around and he left the store open so that his customers could still shop. He relied upon the honor system for people to pay for their purchases by leaving a small sign asking the customer to write up their purchase and a cigar box to hold the itemized bill and money. Betsy had never been inside the store. She only knew about how it operated as a result of conversations among the staff. All of them seemed to frequent the place. She had avoided it. He was always trying to get her business every time she ran past his place. He would stand there with a sign telling her to stop and shop. She could see that he had spotted her when he went into the shop and returned with another sign. She made her way towards the store thinking that she'd kick up the pace a little. The guy was standing in front of the store holding up a sign that read, "Stop and try my Hawaiian Fruit Blast." She kicked up the pace a little intending to blow past the place at a blistering run. Her plans came to an abrupt end the moment she spotted the fat man. It was as if he had appeared right in front of her. She side stepped to avoid running into him, but that put a line of bushes in her way. She somersaulted over the bushes to avoid running into them. She landed on a small gravel filled walkway. All was well until her foot caught on a small post for a light, intended to illuminate the small path at night. For the first time in her life, ever, Betsy fell. Shocked, she lay on the ground looking up at the sky. When she heard an effeminate laugh, she looked over at where the fat man had been, only to discover that he was nowhere to be seen. "Are you okay?" the young man asked with a voice filled with concern. "I'm fine," Betsy answered thinking it was going to be impossible to avoid the guy now. "That was a spectacular fall," the young man said. "I suppose it was," Betsy said. "I'm Chuck." "Betsy." Chuck reached out a hand and said, "Let me help you up." Reluctantly, Betsy accepted his hand and stood. Once standing, she said, "Thank you." "Can I interest you in trying a glass of my Hawaiian Fruit Blast?" "What is it?" "It's a fruit drink. It is the fruit version of the V8 vegetable drink. I've been working on the recipe for years and I think it is about the best drink on the island," Chuck answered. "I don't have any money with me," Betsy said looking down the road. Chuck said, "I'm not asking you to buy any, just try it." "Really?" "Really." "I suppose I could give it a try," Betsy said, her mind flashing on the last time a strange male had been around one of her drinks. "Excellent," Chuck said with a smile. Pointing to a chair in the garden, he said, "Have a seat in the chair over there and I'll bring it out to you." "Okay," Betsy said. She went over to the chair he had pointed out to her and sat down. She was in a little garden area next to the store. The garden was filled with local plants, many of which were in bloom. The scent of flowers filled the air without being overpowering. A gravel path, lined with little foot lights, cut through the garden and led off to a house that was tucked behind the store. It was a rather pretty place. Chuck returned with two glasses. He held them both out and said, "Take one." Betsy picked one of the glasses and took a sip. There was an explosion of flavors in her mouth. Surprised, she said, "This is good." "Thanks. I'm glad you like it," Chuck said. "You should market it," Betsy said thinking that it was the kind of thing she would put her money into. Chuck replied, "I have plans to do that, but I'm going to wait for conditions to get better." Thinking that he was going to hit her up for some start up capital, Betsy asked, "Conditions?" "I don't trust the economy, at the moment. I'm waiting to see what happens before I commit my capital to a project of that size," Chuck said. "So you aren't looking for start up capital?" Betsy asked. "Not at the moment," Chuck answered. Betsy looked around at her surroundings. With all of the flowers in bloom, it was the kind of place where she would expect to see a hummingbird, but there weren't any in Hawaii. She also knew that there hadn't been any native bees on the island. There hadn't been any bees until the late 1800s. Now, bees swarmed around the flowers. Watching a bee pollinate a flower, she said, "This is a nice garden." "I wish I could take the credit for it, but I inherited it from my folks, last year. They did all of the hard work. I just have to maintain it." "Well, it's a pretty garden." After a long awkward silence, Chuck said, "It sure has been hard getting to met you. You run past here so fast that it is impossible to say hello to you. After trying to say hello a couple of times, I decided to try the sign. You must always be in the zone when you run past here because you never noticed it." "I guess I am a fast runner," Betsy said not wanting to admit that she had seen the sign. "I bet you could win a gold medal in the Olympics." "I have." "Oh," Chuck said. "I guess I would have won that bet." "Yeah," Betsy said wondering what else there was to say about that topic. She looked down at the glass in her hand. She took another sip of the fruit drink. It was really very good. She bet Marguerite would love to get her hands on the recipe for it. "This is really quite good." "Thank you," Chuck said. He licked his lips nervously and then said, "I was ... uh ... kind of hoping ... ahh ... would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?" "What?" Betsy asked taken completely by surprise. "Would you like to go out to dinner with me?" "Are you asking me out on a date?" "Yes." Flustered, Betsy took a huge drink and then said, "Okay." "Great," Chuck said sitting back in his chair in relief. Betsy was frantically trying to figure out what she should wear for the date. This was her first date and she had no idea what to say or do. "What kind of place do you have in mind?" "There's a restaurant up the highway: the Happy Angler. They serve pretty good seafood." "I know the place," Betsy said. Betsy had been to it several times in the past. It was a casual place frequented almost exclusively by locals. Most people showed up there wearing whatever they wore around the house. She could wear anything, and still fit in. "I hope you like the food there," Chuck said. "I do." "Good." They sat and looked at each other for a minute. Chuck took a drink from his glass of Hawaiian Fruit Blast. Unable to think of anything to say, Betsy took a sip from her glass. Chuck asked, "Would seven be okay?" "Seven what?" Betsy asked. "Could I pick you up around seven, for dinner?" "Oh. Sure. That would be good." "Can I have your address?" Betsy told him the address for her home. He diligently wrote it down with a pen and a pad of paper that appeared as if by magic from his shirt pocket. Chuck said, "I'll be there around seven." Betsy finished her drink, and put the glass down on a small table as she rose and said, "I'll be ready." "Great," Chuck said. "I guess I should continue my run," Betsy said. "Okay. Have a good run." "Thanks. See ya' later." "I'll be there at seven." Betsy fled, thinking that had to be the most uncomfortable conversation she had ever had; but it was hard to keep from shouting out that she had a date! She could barely contain her joy! She finally had a date! A real date, with a real guy, who had actually asked her out! Chuck stood there and watched her run off. She was the prettiest woman he had ever seen. Once she was out of sight, he danced around waving his arms in the air and shouting. "I've got a date with the prettiest woman on the island!" He glanced down at the address, stared at it for a minute, and then frowned. He said, "Wait a minute! That's the old Wilson place. Betsy Carter bought it." He slapped his forehead and said, "Oh, Jesus. She's Betsy Carter. I've got to be the biggest fool in the world. She's so far out of my class that it's pathetic." There was a soft effeminate laugh. He looked around, wondering who was laughing at him, but didn't see anyone. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 19 Head buried in her closet, Betsy was tossing clothes out left and right. Charlie and Alice were standing at the door watching her. They were a little amused by her behavior. Alice said, "I do believe that Betsy is in a tizzy." "Tizzy? Yes, she does look like a person in a tizzy," Charlie said. "It could be a dither," Alice said. "No. It's definitely a tizzy, not a dither," Charlie said. "I wonder why she's in a tizzy?" Betsy growled and then muttered, "I'll show them a tizzy." "I have no idea," Charlie said winking at Alice. Betsy growled. Unperturbed by the looks she was getting from Betsy, Alice said, "It might be a date." "She did scream something about having a date tonight when she ran into the house," Charlie said. "I wonder who to poor bastard is," Alice said. Betsy glared over at Alice. "Poor bastard? I'll poor bastard you." Alice grinned. Charlie stared up at the ceiling for a second and then asked, "Do you think Chuck finally worked up enough nerve to tackle her?" "It would appear so," Alice said. "He didn't tackle me," Betsy said without wondering how they knew it was Chuck. "I tripped." Stacy walked over to the door, squeezed between Alice and Charlie, and peered into the room. She said, "It looks like Betsy is in a tizzy." "Be quiet," Betsy said while tossing two more outfits onto the bed. "So I guess Chuck finally worked up enough nerve to tackle her," Stacy said. "I tripped!" Stacy said, "I suppose that after Gary's warning of what happened to people who tried to tackle Betsy, Chuck wasn't willing to take the risk of a couple months in the hospital." "These men nowadays just aren't willing to go all out to get the girl," Alice said shaking her head sadly. "I know. There was a time when men would walk thirty miles through the wilderness, wrestle three bears on the way, and face an angry father who was carrying a loaded shotgun just to ask a girl out," Charlie said. Alice said, "That was back in the good old days when men were men and women were thankful." Stacy said, "I miss those days." "There are still Marines," Charlie said. "Yes, there are," Alice said with a smile. "We know how you feel about Marines." Stacy said, "At least she doesn't have to worry about breaking Chuck. He's built pretty good." "Not quite up to Marine standards," Charlie said. "That's true," Alice said. Betsy stopped in the middle of tossing a short skirt onto the bed and turned to look at the three women standing at her bedroom door. All of a sudden it dawned on her that they knew a bit more about her upcoming date than they should have known. She didn't recall telling them that it was Chuck who asked her out. "How did you know that Chuck asked me out?" "He's wanted to ask you out for a while." "How long have you known that?" Betsy asked. "Only for about six months," Alice said. "Six months?" Betsy asked incredulously. Charlie said, "The first time he saw you jog by was about six months ago." "He was smitten," Stacy said with a large grin. "Smitten?" "Poor guy hasn't dated anyone since that day," Alice said. "Why didn't anyone tell me that?" Betsy asked. "Because it was up to him to make the first move," Alice said. Charlie said, "That's right." Stacy said, "That poor guy has been trying to get your attention for months." "What are you talking about?" Betsy asked looking blankly at the three woman. "You didn't notice him trying to get your attention so that you'd stop and talk to him?" "Little things like, calling to you when you ran past." "Or like, holding up signs inviting you to stop." "Uh ... I thought he was trying to drum up a little business for that store of his. It can't be making much of a profit," Betsy said feeling a little embarrassed. "Chuck Cole runs a multi-million dollar investment firm out of that little store," Stacy said. "How do you know that?" Betsy asked and then realized that it was a pretty stupid question since it was her job to know things like that. "Gary and I did a background check on him the day he mentioned that he wanted to date you," Stacy said. "When did he mention that?" Alice said, "I was in the store one morning when you jogged past. He nearly killed himself trying to get out to wave you down. After you flew past, he complained about how you ran past so fast that it was impossible to get you to stop. He asked me how he could get you to slow down long enough to talk to you. "Of course, his question aroused my curiosity so I asked him why he wanted to talk to you. He said that you were the prettiest woman on the island and that he wanted you for a wife." "He said that?" Betsy asked. "Yes." "I've really got to find the right outfit," Betsy said tossing the skirt onto the bed and diving back into the closet again. "Don't you want to look over the report on him?" Stacy asked. Betsy paused and thought about it for a moment. Finally, she shook her head and answered, "No. I think that would not be a good idea." ------- "Do I look okay?" "You look great." "Are you sure?" "Yes." "I really want to look good tonight." "I'm sure you do." "Do I look okay?" Gary said, "Calm down. You look like a million dollars. He'll be impressed." "I want to make a good impression," Betsy said. She stood in front of the mirror. Her navy blue skirt came down to her knees. Her light blue silk shirt contrasted nicely with the navy and her golden colored skin. She leaned forward and checked her make up. She wasn't used to wearing make up and Charlie had to help her apply it. "Do I look okay?" Gary looked up at the ceiling. Frustrated, he said, "You look outstanding. Don't worry about it." The sound of the alarm went off indicating that someone had entered the property. Gary looked down at his hand held computer and said, "He's on his way up the drive." "I'll meet him outside," Betsy said. "No, you won't," Gary said. "Why not?" "I've got to do the papa bear thing," Gary said. "What's that?" Gary said, "I've got to threaten him with bodily harm if he lets anything bad happen to you." "I can take care of myself," Betsy said. "I know that and you know that, but he doesn't. All fathers, or in my case father figures, are expected to threaten young men taking their daughters out on a date for the first time. If I don't do it, then the world will start spinning faster, and everyone will fall off," Gary said. "That's ridiculous," Betsy said while crossing her arms across her chest. "Maybe, but we don't want to take the chance," Gary said. "I'm ready to go now!" "You'll just have to wait." "I don't want to wait," Betsy said. Gary smiled and said, "It's tradition. You have to wait a little bit so that he has to wait a little bit while the father does his best to make him miserable. You can't violate tradition." "It's a stupid tradition," Betsy said unsure if it was really tradition or if Gary was having a little fun at her expense. "Alice will let you know when to join us," Gary said before leaving the room. Betsy shook her fist at his back. She finally had a date and Gary was making her wait. She had already waited a long time to have her first date and didn't think it was fair. Alice entered the room. It was obvious to her that Betsy was frustrated. The fact was that she sort of supported Gary in what he was going to do. Her father had done it when her husband had come to pick her up the first time. "You've got to let the men play their little games," Alice said. "Why?" Alice said, "One day you'll be a mother and you'll appreciate it when your husband does this." "I don't like it now." "Neither will your daughter," Alice said. Gary sat at the kitchen table with his pistol in pieces and his cleaning kit out. His pistol was already clean, but he went through the motions of cleaning it. He was about a quarter of the way through the process when Chuck entered the room. The young man's eyes immediately flew to the pistol. Gary said, "Just cleaning the tools of my trade. Don't worry about it." "Your trade?" "I'm in the security business. I protect my clients from any and all harm that might be directed in their direction," Gary said while running a cleaning pad over a part. "You must be good at it," Chuck said. It had never dawned on him that Betsy might have a bodyguard. She was always alone when she ran past the store. Looking at the man seated at the table, he realized that he was likely to come on the date with him. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Gary grinned and said, "I'm very good at it." Stacy came into the room. Chuck was about to greet her when she pulled out her pistol. It took her just a few seconds to dismantle it for cleaning. "My sister, Stacy, is also on the security team," Gary said. "Hi," Stacy said. Her hands moved almost on their own while she went about a task that was second nature to her. Her confidence in handling the weapon couldn't be faked. "I didn't know you were in security," Chuck said. "We try not to be too obvious about it except when we need to be obvious about it," Gary said. Wiggling her eyebrows at him, Stacy said, "It's an art." "I can see," Chuck said looking at the pistol parts spread over the table. Gary said, "I don't think you want me or Stacy to go with you on your date, do you?" "Not really," Chuck said. It dawned on him that this was the 'old father scares the hell out his daughter's date' gambit. He decided this was about the most effective delivery that he'd ever seen. Intimidating was too gentle of a word to describe it. Stacy said, "You'll make sure she's all right, won't you?" "Yes," Chuck said. Gary said, "We've got your word on that?" "Yes," Chuck said. "Good," Stacy said. Gary, without looking at what he was doing, assembled the pistol. It seemed to take him only a couple of seconds. He slipped the pistol into his shoulder harness and then rose from the table. Charlie walked into the room and sat down where Gary had been. She smiled over at Chuck and said, "Hello, Chuck." "Hello, Charlie," Chuck replied pleased to see a friendly face. Charlie reached into her purse and pulled out her pistol. Chuck's face fell upon seeing it. She took it apart to clean. Gary said, "She's backup in case Stacy and I fail to survive in our duties to protect Betsy." Chuck said, "Let me guess, everyone here carries a gun." "Got it in one," Gary said. Charlie said, "I told you he was a smart one." Chuck said, "I've got the message. Be good to Betsy." "He is a clever one," Gary said. Furious, Betsy stormed into the kitchen. She stopped next to Charlie. With her hands moving in a blur, she reassembled the pistol and then handed it to Charlie. In a voice dripping acid, Betsy said, "If you're done making my date miserable, it is time for us to leave. Even if you haven't been successful in making him miserable, it is time for us to leave." "The message has been delivered," Gary said looking at Chuck and getting a nod of the head in return. Betsy grabbed Chuck's hand and said, "Let's go." "As you wish." While the pair made their way through the house to the front door, every member of the staff patted where they carried their pistols. Chuck noticed each and every gesture. Even Alice was patting her purse. When the door closed behind them, Betsy was half tempted to head back into the house and let the entire staff have it with both barrels. This was her first date and they were ruining it. She was shocked, when Chuck burst out laughing. "What's so funny?" "I was just thinking that considering how much estrogen there is in that house, there's even more testosterone," Chuck said. "I'm mortified by their behavior." Chuck said, "All fathers do something like that." "You're kidding?" Betsy asked. "Nope. When I went on my first date, her father was outside trimming a tree with a limb lopper. After removing a rather large branch, he casually mentioned that it worked just as well on fingers that strayed into territories where they didn't belong. I got the message loud and clear," Chuck said. "It really is a tradition?" Betsy asked. Chuck said, "I guess you could call it a tradition. I'll probably do the same thing when I have a daughter and a young man shows up to take her out." Betsy said, "I never saw any of my fathers do anything like that." "I'm sure your father was standing there wearing his Druid robe. That's intimidation enough," Chuck said. "I guess you're right," she said. Betsy didn't want to comment on that. She didn't really want to go into the matter that this was her first date. None of her real fathers had a chance to intimidate one of her dates. Chuck said, "You look lovely tonight." "Thank you," Betsy said pleased he noticed. They reached his car. He opened the door for her. She delicately entered the car. He closed the door and went around to the driver's side. Chuck said, "Our date is off to a good start." "You can't mean that." "Sure. Your staff just let me know that they think you're pretty special and should be treated nicely. I happen to agree with them," Chuck said. "I didn't think about it that way," Betsy said. Chuck drove down the drive way. They were quiet. ------- Chuck held out the chair for Betsy. She sat down at the table. There was the little shuffle while he pushed the chair in. He went and sat down across from her. The hostess bustled around handing out menus and talking about today's special. There wasn't much of a chance to talk until the hostess left the table. Betsy said, "Tell me about your little store." Chuck said, "I inherited it from my parents, last year. I came in from Austin where I was living at the time for the funeral. Even though I hadn't really thought about it, I realized that I had to deal with my inheritance. I intended to sell it and their house. After all, I did have a place in Austin. "About a week after the funeral, I went into the store to make an inventory of what was there. I was in there looking around when a customer came in. We talked a bit and then they left. I started to return to making an inventory when another customer came in. "It seemed that everyone who did any business with my parents came in and let me know how bad they felt about their deaths. It was really kind of touching. I ended up spending the whole day there without getting anything done on the inventory. "The next day it was the same thing. I'd work a little and talk a lot. It was like I just fell back into the habits of my youth when I used to help my folks out at the store. I'd get there in the morning, make a pot of coffee, and sit in my chair. Folks would come and go, always taking a few minutes to chat. "I guess it was about the third or fourth day that I realized that I rather liked what I was doing. I thought about it and decided to come back for good. "So here I am. I run my business from inside the store between customers." Betsy said, "I don't blame you for wanting to stay there. What business are you running?" Chuck said, "I own an investment company. I look for good opportunities and invest in them. There's nothing that requires me to live in one place over another." "Are you successful?" Betsy asked. "I guess you could say so. I started small while I was in college studying business. By the time I got my Bachelors I was a millionaire. I went to the University of Texas and picked up my MBA. I've slowly increased my net worth and can live comfortably without having to work another day of my life." Betsy said, "But you still work." "Yeah. I can't sit around and do nothing. Besides, I enjoy the investment business," Chuck said. "So why don't you do that full time?" Betsy asked. "To tell the truth, I did that in Austin. The problem was that I never left my home. I spent all of my time in front of the computer doing research and checking out opportunities. I never saw anyone. It was starting to get a little old. "Now, I've got the best of both worlds. I can pursue investments and I can interact with people. I'm pretty satisfied with my life now." "That makes sense," Betsy said. "So what about you?" Betsy said, "I'm working on my doctorate. I study sharks." "Sharks?" "Yep." "You've picked a good place to do that. We've got lots of sharks here," Chuck said. "I know. So far I haven't done much studying of sharks. I've been getting my research vessel ready," Betsy said. "You've got your own ship?" Chuck asked. "Yes. It's a converted tugboat that I named the Bloated Shark." "That's a horrible name," Chuck said. "It's a good name. It's big, fat, and slow, just like the name implies," Betsy said. She was getting tired of everyone commenting on the name of her boat. She liked the name. "It just conjures images of a dead shark on the beach slowly rotting under a hot sun." "Everyone says that." "Sorry." "I guess I should get used to it," Betsy said with a sigh. Chuck asked, "What are you trying to discover in your research?" Betsy's eyes lit up. She answered, "I'm tracking Mako sharks. There's a lot of evidence that they use Hawaii as a rest stop on the way across the Pacific Ocean. I'd like to discover why they make that voyage. I mean, there's no real reason to do it." "Why do you think they do it?" "Genetic mixing. I think they travel among various populations of Mako sharks to breed. It is how nature works to improve their genetic diversity," Betsy answered. "That's fascinating," Chuck said. "The Goddess was really subtle in how she put the natural world together," Betsy said. "Ah. I forgot that you are Pagan," Chuck said. Betsy said, "I serve the Two-Sided One." "I didn't know that," Chuck said looking to see her medallion. Betsy rubbed the gold torque on her arm. It was the first time that Chuck noticed it. It didn't take him a second to realize what it signified. "You don't have a medallion?" Chuck asked. "I'm not a Druid." "So what are you?" Chuck asked. "I'm not sure," Betsy answered. "How can you be unsure about something like that?" Betsy sighed. "I'm the first of a new kind of servant. It's up to me to define it." "That's an incredible responsibility," Chuck said. Surprised by his comment, Betsy asked, "What do you mean?" "You're the first! You define the rules for all who follow you. They will use your life to guide them. You're it. You're the one. History will remember you for that." "I never thought about it like that," Betsy said feeling a little intimidated by the thought. "So what do you think you're supposed to do?" Chuck asked. "I guess I'm supposed to make things happen to protect people." Chuck frowned. "I don't buy that. I mean, that sounds like something Druids are supposed to do. I'm sure they would have hung a medallion around your neck if that was all you were supposed to do as a service." Betsy was silent for a moment. She said, "I might be wrong." Chuck said, "I'd never want to make a guess about what the Gods and Goddesses might do, but it seems to me that your service might be much more complex than you would think." There was a sense of rightness to his words. Betsy stared at him wondering how he would know that. Then it dawned on her that he didn't know, but was just guessing. Seeing the expression on her face, Chuck added, "It's never wise to put the Gods in little boxes." "You can say that again." The waitress showed up and asked, "Have you decided yet?" "Sorry. We were too busy talking to look at the menu," Chuck said. "Take your time," the waitress said. Once the waitress had left the table, Betsy said, "I guess I should warn you that I have a high metabolism." "What's that mean?" "It means I eat a lot," Betsy said. "Define a lot," Chuck said. Betsy looked a little embarrassed and replied, "I eat about two or three times as much as you." "You're telling me that you aren't going to order a salad and just pick at it?" Chuck said. "I'm saying that I'll order two full dinners, and eat them both," Betsy said. "A woman who admits that she has a real appetite for food! I never thought I'd see the day," Chuck said with a laugh. Betsy said, "It's kind of embarrassing to some folks." "I'm not one to be embarrassed by things like that," Chuck declared flatly. Ten minutes later, Chuck didn't bat an eye when she ordered two broiled seafood dinners. He didn't say a word when she consumed both of them. He even suggested that she try two different desserts when she couldn't make up her mind. Finally finished eating, Betsy pushed her dessert plate away and said, "That was good." "I'm glad you liked it," Chuck said. He was impressed with the quantity of food that she had packed away. "You don't seem surprised by how much I eat," Betsy said. "My dorm mate in college was a long distance runner. He could consume a huge amount of food when in training for a big race. I've seen you running. I didn't think you'd be any different." Betsy said, "I effectively do a triathlon every day." "You're kidding." "No. I run at least ten miles every day, swim several miles, and cycle another forty or fifty miles. Some days I do more than that," Betsy said. "That's impressive." "It's better now than it used to be. I used to do double that, every day," Betsy said. Chuck said, "Then I take it you'd be up for a little dancing?" "Yes," Betsy said. She was feeling like she needed to burn up a little energy and happy to have a good way to do it. "Then let me pay the bill, and we'll go dancing," Chuck said while gesturing for the waitress to come over with the check. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 20 Betsy opened the door to her condo and said, "Come on in, Sally." Sally took one look at Betsy and then asked, "What happened to you?" "What?" "You're glowing," Sally said. "I had a date last night," Betsy answered grinning broadly. "You had a date, and you didn't tell me?" Sally asked feeling a little hurt. Betsy shrugged her shoulders and said, "According to my staff, I was in a tizzy." "A tizzy?" "Yes," Betsy said while stepping back so that Sally could enter the apartment. "I kind of know what they mean. I think I was in one when Steve and I went out the first time," Sally said while entering the apartment. She had been rather distracted and confused. She remembered running around the bedroom trying to decide what to wear. She had tried on every outfit she owned trying to pick the perfect one. She wondered if guys went through the same thing when getting ready for a date. She made a mental note to ask Steve, but he tended to grunt and avoid topics like that. Betsy said, "I guess I wasn't quite my normal calm self." Sally burst out laughing as she replied, "Your normal calm self can hardly be described as calm." "You're right." "So did you and he kiss?" Sally had actually giggled like a school girl when asking the question. For her, dating was still a new thing and she knew that it was just as new for Betsy. Despite being in their mid-twenties they still acted like teenagers about some things. Boys was one of those topics where their immaturity came to the forefront. Turning slightly red with embarrassment, Betsy answered, "Oh, yes. We'd probably still be on the porch, kissing, if Gary hadn't turned on the lights and opened the door." Grinning broadly, Sally said, "You went at it hot and heavy, huh?" "Oh, yeah." "Did you like it?" "I had no idea that kissing was so..." Betsy waved a hand around as if she couldn't find the words to describe what she meant. "Yeah. I know what you mean," Sally said with a grin. Betsy said, "We've got another date next weekend." "Good for you." Sally had followed Betsy over to the sofa and sat down. Betsy sat down beside her. The young women faced each other, leaning forward in a way that increased the intimacy of the conversation. "I'm happy," Betsy said. "I learned that Chuck has been trying to get my attention for months." "Really?" Sally asked shocked to learn that. She knew how desperately Betsy had been trying to find a man to notice her. It was kind of ironic that there was a guy out there who had been trying to get her to notice him. "How did he succeed in getting your attention?" "I tripped and fell flat on my face. He helped me up," Betsy answered somewhat meekly. "You tripped?" Sally asked. Sally had a hard time believing that Betsy had tripped and fallen. As far as she knew, Betsy never tripped or had a misstep. Running parkour had trained Betsy to move fearlessly through the environment with grace. She could manage obstacles that would deter most people. "Yes. It was the first time in my life that I've ever tripped," Betsy said. "The first time?" "Yes. I've got a feeling that the Two-Sided One was involved," Betsy said. It was more than just a feeling. That little laugh from nowhere was kind of a clue that was difficult to ignore. She was happy the Two-Sided One was finding her love life amusing. "At least you've got a God working on your side," Sally said. Betsy grinned at Sally and then asked, "You don't think the Two-Sided One was involved in getting you together with Steve?" "Well, maybe," Sally admitted. In point of fact, that whole evening in which she met Steve seemed choreographed to her. The weird feeling when she had promised to stay at the party for half an hour, her initial introduction to him, the strange wall of fire that prevented Steve from helping Betsy, and the sudden appearance of Druids right after the event felt contrived. Even William's statement that she and Steve were a couple was weird. She didn't know what to think about Gods and Goddesses meddling in the affairs of men and women. It seemed to her that people in ancient times tried to avoid coming to the attention of the Powers that Be. She shook her head trying to avoid thinking about what it might mean if they became interested in her. Sally asked, "What does this guy do for a living?" "He manages investments," Betsy answered. "Like William?" "William does a bit more than just manage investments," Betsy said. She didn't want to get into how William was able to manipulate the future with judicious investments. It was something that others didn't need to know. Her brother had enough enemies as it was. "Like what?" Sally asked. "Actually, I'm not quite sure all that he does," Betsy replied. Changing the subject, Betsy said, "I'm going to be away all this week. The boat is ready and it's time for me to get on with my research." "I know you're looking forward to it," Sally said recognizing that Betsy was trying to change the subject away from William and his mysterious service to the Two-Sided One. There had been hints that his service involved seeing the future, but she wasn't sure what that actually involved. Betsy said, "I am. I would also like to be at my main house dating Chuck." Sally said, "So tell me more about this guy. What does he look like?" "He's a little taller than me and pretty well built. You know, broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He's got brown hair that he wears a little short. His hairline has receded a little for a guy his age, but not too noticeably. "He has green eyes." Sally said, "Would you say he's handsome?" "He's manly, but not in a GQ sort of way. He's more like a normal guy," Betsy answered. "He kind of reminds me of Daddy Ed, but not quite as sunbeaten. I guess you could say that he's handsome." "What was he wearing on your date?" "Dress pants, a white shirt, and a sport coat ... no tie," Betsy answered. "That's rather tasteful for a first date. I mean, he could have shown up in jeans," Sally said. "He looked good in it," Betsy said. "What did you wear?" "A Navy blue skirt and light blue blouse," Betsy answered. "That's a nice outfit. Did he complement you on it?" "Yes, he did." Sally asked, "What did you do on the date?" "We ate, and then went dancing," Betsy answered. Sally hesitated before she asked, "Did you eat a lot?" "Yes, but it didn't seem to bother him. He told me that his roommate in college was a long distance runner, and would eat huge meals before a competition. He figured that I would do the same considering how much I exercised," Betsy answered. "That's a relief. I know some people get a little freaked by how much you can eat," Sally said. She had actually meant to warn Betsy that she might want to eat a full meal before going on a date and treat dinner as a snack. A lot of guys wouldn't be able to afford feeding Betsy on a date, particularly when she ordered two or more meals. Of course, it wasn't one of the topics that came up in a normal conversation and the opportunity had never arisen to mention that. At least, it didn't appear to have been a problem with Chuck. "I did warn him, and he just laughed it off," Betsy said. "So there were no problems?" Betsy said, "You wouldn't believe what Gary, Stacy, and Charlie did when he came to the house to pick me up." "What did they do?" "They sat around cleaning their guns, and making threats about what happened to people who didn't treat me well," Betsy said. "They didn't?" "They did." "I would have been mortified," Sally said. "Chuck took it pretty well. He laughed about it when we got outside," Betsy said. "That's good." "I would have killed Gary if he had chased off Chuck," Betsy said. Sally laughed knowing that Betsy wouldn't do any such thing. "You said that you went dancing after dinner." "Yes. It was a really great place that had a good mix of music," Betsy said. "Did you do any slow dancing?" Sally asked. "Uh ... well ... yes," Betsy answered with a slight blush blossoming on her face. Sally grinned fully aware of what caused that reaction. "He got excited, didn't he?" "Yes." Betsy had wondered why he kept pulling back from her during the slow dances. When she pressed against him, she discovered the reason. For a minute or two, she had no idea what to do. Of course, he probably felt her bullets pressing into his chest. She finally just pulled him in closer and enjoyed the feeling. "And?" "What?" "Is he ... you know?" "Big?" "Yes, is he big?" "I'd say so," Betsy answered turn bright red. "You're so lucky, girl," Sally said with a giggle. "Steve is big. I like it a lot." "I don't know. You know, I've never..." "Are you on the pill?" "Yes," Betsy said. "I guess you will know for sure just how big he is, next weekend," Sally said, licking her lips suggestively. "Maybe," Betsy said feeling a little flutter of fear in her stomach. It was a feeling she hadn't had too many times in her life. "Scared?" "Yes." "I was terrified. I was so worried that I wouldn't be any good that I nearly froze up. Steve did a pretty good job of warming up my engines. By the time we got to the actual deed, I was just ... well ... I don't know what I was doing, but it all felt good." "I hope Chuck is understanding," Betsy said. "I'm sure it will be okay," Sally said. "I'm a little afraid that I'll lose control and break him or something," Betsy said sounding worried. There was a rather effeminate laugh from above. Betsy looked up at the ceiling. "Break him?" "You know ... hurt him, somehow," Betsy said. "Why would you worry about that?" Sally asked. "I'm kind of a physical person, you know. People tend to get hurt when I get physical around them." "Oh, yeah. I didn't think about that," Sally said. She looked over at Betsy and realized her friend was serious. Betsy was truly afraid that she'd lose control and hurt Chuck. It would be easy to laugh it off as a non-issue, but Sally knew it was pretty easy to lose control at the height of passion. Frankly, she hadn't given much thought to what Betsy could do at that moment, but she could understand her friend's concern. Sally had come to take for granted Betsy's confidence in everything she did. The insecurities that were emerging presented another facet to her friend. In their short friendship, she had seen Betsy go through things that would have beaten down another person who was less strong. An attempted rape, a criminal vendetta, and a plane crash were pretty traumatic. Still, there had always been that underlying vulnerability that kept Betsy human. Doing her best to reassure her friend, Sally said, "I don't think that will be a problem." "Maybe I should have him restrain me somehow the first few times until we know how I react," Betsy said biting her lower lip. "Kinky!" Betsy blushed when she realized what she had said. "Maybe that's not such a good idea." "I don't know about that. I might suggest it to Steve. I'll let you know how it works out," Sally said, and burst out into laughter at the shocked expression on Betsy's face. Betsy realized that Sally was joking. She appreciated how Sally seemed to know how to take the edge off of situations about which Betsy was uncomfortable. There weren't many people who were willing to really listen to her problems. Her problems were often so different than what other people experienced that it was hard to find a sympathetic ear. Sally never really joked about the important things except as a way to lighten up the atmosphere. Betsy truly appreciated that. The two young woman talked late into the night covering a wide variety of topics. There was a lot of girl talk about dating, but there was also a bit of talk about their research. It was one of the more pleasant evenings of Betsy's life. Sally ended up spending the night with Betsy. ------- The next four days were spent on the Bloated Shark. Although the first trip had been cut short by a day, they had accomplished a lot more than had been hoped. They were very productive days in terms of furthering her research. Betsy swam with the sharks every day. She managed to tag three mako sharks and collect DNA samples from each of them. They were very large and healthy specimens of their species. She had immediately named them Alphonso, Beatrice, and Claude knowing that in her papers she would probably refer to them as specimens A, B, and C. One of the concerns that Betsy had about putting the tracking devices on the sharks was that the electronic signals would cause a problem with the sharks. It was well known that sharks were very sensitive to minute electronic signals. They would attack underwater telephone cables thinking they were prey. In swimming with the sharks, she could see that the devices were not causing any problems. In a way, it was a major relief. The evenings were spent in the laboratory aboard the boat preparing the samples for analysis back on campus and verifying that the tracking equipment was working correctly. She watched the computer display the positions of the sharks over the three days. The software was storing the data correctly and it looked like the analysis of the shark movement would be fairly trivial. The movement data was rather sparse for several reasons. The tracking equipment only reported the position once every fifteen minutes. The transmission was only successfully sent if the sharks weren't at too great of a depth because of the signal attenuation problems associated with sea water. After working in the laboratory, there were a few changes that Betsy felt needed to be made. The layout was okay, but she found that a minor rearrangement of the equipment would improve her work flow. It was fine when there was only one person in the lab, but it got real crowded when there were two people there. It was awkward when one of the crew would bring up a water sample, and have to walk behind where she was working in order to take it to where it was to be stored. One change that crew members demanded was that they install a lift, or crane, to allow heavy samples to be raised to the second deck where the laboratory was located. Trying to carry a five gallon bucket filled with water up the stairs when the boat was rocking was not exactly the safest activity. There were a few technical problems regarding the ship, but nothing that couldn't be corrected when they returned to shore. Mechanically, the ship was fine. There was some interference between the equipment in the electronics room and the navigation equipment of the boat. It was the same reason why people weren't allowed to have electronic devices on planes during takeoffs and landings. Henry and Paul would have their work cut out for them correcting that little problem. The boat ran with a crew of four, the Captain and three others. Although this trip wasn't the first time she'd met the crew, it was the first time that she had been able to interact with any of them, other than Captain Jack. Andy was in his mid-twenties and from Australia. He was working his way around the world and had picked up this job to spend a little time in Hawaii. He called it his 'walk-about', but so far he had done very little walking and a lot of sailing having bounced around the far east for two years. He figured that after a few months, he'd get a ship and head over to the Los Angeles to see a bit of mainland America. Tim was about the same age as Andy. He was a local and had worked on boats for most of his life on the island. He was married with two kids and never missed an opportunity to show off his pictures of his kids. He usually spent a little time every evening talking to his family, thankful that the boat had advanced communications capabilities and internet. Betsy wasn't the only woman aboard the ship. Debbie was a woman in her mid-forties and was the most experienced of the crew. She had the weathered sunbeaten look, and rough hands that one associates with sailors. She and her ex-husband had owned their own fishing boat. It had been sold during their divorce. She didn't miss her ex-husband, but did miss the boat. Captain Jack held the helm during the day and Debbie held the post during the night. The other two crew members did the normal tasks associated with taking care of a boat while at sea. Betsy had been on enough research boats to know when to stay out of the crew's way and when to jump in to give a helping hand. With her hours in the water and time in the laboratory, Betsy wasn't really available to help much on the boat. Although she didn't want to admit it, she had a feeling that the crew was actually pretty pleased that she wasn't around too much. There was always something to do on the boat and the crew had their own way of doing things. It would take her some time to fit in with the group. Tim prepared the meals in the galley. Meals were eaten in the main entertainment room with the full crew present, except for the person at the helm. The crew couldn't believe how much Betsy ate during the first few meals, but came to accept it. They did recognize that swimming nonstop for eight to ten hours a day tended to burn up a lot of calories. The members of the crew tended not to talk during the meal. However, once the meal was over the conversation flowed. Andy tended to talk about what he was going to do when they returned to shore. There were lots of young woman looking for adventure and with his Australian accent he had little difficulty finding a playmate for an evening or two. Tim talked about his family. Debbie, when she contributed to the conversation, tended to talk about her plans of getting her own boat and returning to the life of a fisher-woman. Betsy tended to talk mostly about sharks, rather than more personal subjects. The fact was, the crew found her interest in sharks fascinating. Sailors tended to look upon sharks in a rather negative way, viewing them as one of the greater dangers of the sea. The idea that she swam with them was such a contradiction to their world view, that it was a source of significant debate. On the first day out, the whole crew had cringed when, after chumming the water to attract sharks, Betsy had dived into the water wearing nothing except for her re-breather. Everyone aboard the ship, including Captain Jack, was sure that she was going to get eaten. They watched in amazement when she appeared in the midst of the sharks unharmed. Betsy was not aware that there had been some discussion between Captain Jack and the crew before she had come aboard the boat. Captain Jack had told everyone about the afternoon when Betsy had dodged a bullet, and had taken down a former member of the Spetsnaz without breaking a sweat. He warned them not to try anything with Betsy, since he didn't want to hold an impromptu burial at sea for that person. Betsy's initial nude appearance on the deck had given Andy some ideas; after all, he was a ladies man. In fact, he hadn't been intimidated by Captain Jack's warning until he watched her swimming with the sharks. He figured anyone ... male or female ... who could join a shark feeding frenzy, just wasn't someone to mess with. At the end of one of her night shifts at the helm, Debbie had watched Betsy emerge from the crew quarters and strip, before practicing her Tai Chi. She had watched in amazement while Betsy went through her whole morning routine. Captain Jack entered the bridge and went to stand beside Debbie. In a soft voice, he said, "She's pretty incredible, isn't she?" Debbie said, "I think she has one of the tightest, most muscular, bodies I've ever seen." "She can use it quite lethally, too." Debbie could tell that Captain Jack was somewhat in awe of Betsy. There was a bit of fear mixed in there as well. "Did she really take down one of those Russian Special Forces guy?" Captain Jack answered, "She dismantled him. She broke his neck, pulverized his ears, and removed his tongue in less than five seconds. He is now paralyzed, deaf, and dumb." "Jesus." "He never stood a chance against her." "That's hard to believe." Captain Jack said, "Hard? Try impossible! I saw her do it and I still have a hard time believing it." They watched her move into the exercise portion of her morning routine. She started with toe touches, except rather then touching her toes, she was placing her palms flat on the deck. Captain Jack said, "She's limber." "Yes, she is." "She's young, strong, smart, and beautiful. She must have to beat the boys away with a stick," Captain Jack said. "If I swung that way, I'd have a hard time resisting the temptation of chasing after her. Fortunately, I don't swing that way," Debbie said. Captain Jack said, "I don't worry about Tim chasing her, but I do worry about Andy." Debbie said, "Don't worry about him. He's so freaked about her swimming with the sharks that he won't try anything. He's afraid that she'll take him swimming with her. Besides, there's a lot of easy pickings back on the island, and he knows it." "Does his continual talk about rutting around bother you?" "Are you kidding? I've been around sailors my whole life. I'd get worried if one of them wasn't talking about getting some pussy when he gets back to port," Debbie said with a snort of disdain. "Aren't you afraid Andy might try something with you?" Debbie patted the knife strapped to her side. "I know how to use this. I'd gut him like a fish and he knows it." "He's seen you gut fish. We've all seen you use that knife of yours," Captain Jack said with a wry smile. Tim came out of the crews quarters and headed up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, he turned and watched Betsy for a couple of seconds. She was doing one armed pushups. Shaking his head, he went into the entertainment room on his way to the galley. It was getting close to breakfast time and he had a meal to prepare. Captain Jack said, "She does a hundred of those every morning. She does fifty with her right hand and then fifty with her left hand." "Jesus, she's strong," Debbie said. "Strong, fast, and deadly," Captain Jack said. Betsy finished her exercises and dressed. She looked around before heading over to one of the storage 'closets.' She grabbed a bucket and a scrub brush. The next thing they knew, she was on her hands and knees scrubbing the deck. Watching how much energy Betsy was putting into the task, Debbie said, "She's a hard worker." "Yes, she is," Captain Jack said. Debbie said, "I better get some grub and head to bed." "We're pulling out this afternoon and heading back to port." "Have Betsy wake me," Debbie said. Captain Jack said, "Will do." Debbie went down to the main deck and watched Betsy at work. The young woman was really putting some elbow grease into her work. Debbie walked over to her. "How's it going?" Betsy looked up and smiled. "It's going great. I'll get a little time in the water with the sharks this morning. Then we'll pull up anchor and get back to port a little before dinner. I figure we'll take care of the ship and get my samples over to the lab in time for me have a nice steak dinner tonight." "A steak dinner sounds good." "They've got a forty-eight ounce porterhouse over at the Big Steak Steakhouse. I'll probably be able to eat two of them," Betsy said brightly. "What are your plans for the weekend?" "Tomorrow, I'll be heading home and getting ready for my Saturday night date." "Big date?" "Yes," Betsy answered. In a conspiratorial tone of voice, she added, "I might lose it." "Lose what?" Debbie asked in confusion. "You know..." "No, I don't know," Debbie said having no idea what Betsy was talking about. "My virginity," Betsy said. Stunned, Debbie stared at Betsy unable to believe what she had heard. "Really?" "I've been thinking about it all week," Betsy said. She frowned and then asked, "Do you think it will hurt?" "It might, but then again, it might not." "That doesn't tell me anything," Betsy said. "Maybe I should talk to one of my mothers." "One of your mothers? You have more than one?" "I've got four," Betsy answered. "Interesting," Debbie said. "How long have you known this guy?" "We've had one date," Betsy answered. Debbie said, "Take my advice and wait a couple of dates before you have sex with him." "Why?" Betsy asked. "Just to make sure he's interested in you for the long term," Debbie said. "Oh. I don't know if I can control myself for a couple of dates." Debbie laughed. "Don't you mean control him?" "I mean, control myself. I'm like – really ready for this." "Maybe you ought to go on a couple of double-dates. That might help put a damper on things." "What's a double date?" "That's where you and your boyfriend go on a date with another couple," Debbie answered incredulous that Betsy didn't know what a double-date was. "Is that like ... an unmarried version of wife swapping?" Taken by surprise, Debbie thought she was going to choke. She flapped her mouth a couple of times without any words coming out. It would have been funny except Betsy was completely serious. Debbie said, "No. Each couple is on a date, but the two couples go to the same places with each other. There's no exchanging partners or anything." "I could do that," Betsy said. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 21 Betsy topped the hill leading into town at a nice sedate run. At least, it was sedate for her. She was purposefully keeping her pace slow, so as to not look too anxious. Her eyes went immediately to the little store below. She smiled upon seeing that Chuck was seated outside. She frowned when he got out of his chair and raced into the store. She smiled when he came back out of the store carrying a sign. He held it up for her to see. It read, "Stop and try my Hawaiian Fruit Blast." Her smile turned into a huge grin. Checking around to make sure there wasn't a fat man in the way, Betsy slowed down when she got closer to the store. She walked the last fifty feet, cooling off a little. "Hello, Betsy." "Hello, Chuck." Chuck wrapped her in his arms and gave her a kiss. "I'm looking forward to tonight." "Me, too," Betsy said. "Dinner and a movie?" "Sounds great," Betsy said. She paused and then added, "My friend from school is here with her boyfriend. Do you think it would be possible to double-date with them?" "No problem. I'd like to met your friends," Chuck said. He had chosen a movie thinking that it would give them a chance to keep a little control over their libidos. If Gary hadn't opened the front door at the end of their date last week, Chuck was pretty sure they would have ended up naked on the front porch. Although he would have enjoyed it, he didn't want to push Betsy into doing anything she didn't want to do. The idea of a double-date worked just fine for him. "I'm relieved to hear that," Betsy said. Chuck said, "Why don't you have a seat and I'll bring out a glass of Hawaiian Fruit Blast?" "That sounds great," Betsy said. While Chuck went into the store, Betsy went over to one of the chairs. Before sitting down, she took a moment to look around at the garden. She noticed that he had one of those old fashioned lawnmowers that had the blade that spun when it was pushed. She went over to examine it. She bent down to get a closer look at the cutting mechanism. Chuck came out of the store carrying two glasses of Hawaiian Fruit Blast. He was disappointed that she wasn't seated in a chair, until he spotted her bent over by the lawnmower. He took in her ass and strong legs. His hands shook so hard that he nearly spilled the drinks. He muttered, "Whoa! Calm down, boy." He put the drinks on the small table that stood between the two chairs. He looked over at her. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He muttered, "A double-date is a really good idea." Betsy turned and looked at him. She asked, "Did you say something?" "The drinks are here," Chuck said. Betsy returned to where the chairs were and took a seat. She picked up one of the glasses and took a sip from it. The flavors burst in her mouth. She licked her lips. Chuck leaned forward and watched the progress of her tongue. "I've been looking forward to having one of these all week," Betsy said. Chuck sat down and tried to calm down as he said, "I just made that batch." "It's really good," Betsy said. She rubbed the chilled glass across the bare skin of her upper chest. Since her eyes were looking down at his crotch, she had a good idea of how he reacted, but didn't correlate that to her actions with the glass. She was just happy that he was pleased to see her. After taking a calming breath, Chuck asked, "How was your week at sea?" "I tagged three sharks," Betsy said. "I guess that's good," Chuck said. Betsy said, "It is good. The tracking tags work correctly, and I got genetic samples. You can't really ask for much better than that." "Are you going out next week?" "No. I'm going to the lab and do the analysis work on the genetic samples. The electronics guys are going to have to fix some minor problems on the boat. We'll probably head out the week after next," Betsy answered. "I might be able to swing over to Oahu. Maybe we can met up there and I can see your boat." "That would be great." Betsy took another sip of her drink. She said, "I hope you aren't upset about the double-date thing." "No. Actually, I think it is a great idea. I'm looking forward to meeting your friends," Chuck said. "It's just Sally and Steve," Betsy said. "Do they live here on the island?" "No. They go to school with me. I had them come here so that I could work a little on their training," Betsy said. "What training?" "Martial arts." "You teach martial arts?" Chuck asked. "Yes." "I guess you compete," Chuck said trying to dredge up what little he knew about the martial arts from his memory. He remembered something about most martial arts instructors completed in tournaments. Although, he wasn't sure if it was the students who competed to advance in rank. He swore that he would look that up so he could talk a little more knowledgeably about it with her over dinner. "I quit competing after the Olympics." "After you won the gold in track?" "No. After I won gold medals in Judo and Karate." "So you must be pretty good," Chuck said. "I guess you could say that," Betsy said. "What belt do you have?" "In the American way of describing it, I'm a Grandmaster," Betsy said. "I guess you are good," Chuck said. "Have you ever had to use it?" "Yes," Betsy answered. Wanting to change the subject, Betsy asked, "So what did you do this week?" "I spent most of it looking at potential investment opportunities," Chuck said. "Did you find anything attractive?" "Not really. I don't like what I see happening to the economy," Chuck said with a frown. Betsy said, "I know what you mean. About the only thing I've found lately that seems worthwhile investing in, is a fishing boat." "A fishing boat?" Betsy said, "One of the crew members is saving up to buy a fishing boat. After hearing her talk about it, I've thought about investing in her boat." "That's pretty small time, isn't it?" "I'm looking at investing in the person rather than the business. Debbie's a pretty good person. I think she gave me some good advice," Betsy said. "I always look at the person first," Chuck said. Betsy said, "My brother is really big on investing in smaller concerns rather than stocks and bonds." Well aware of who her brother was, Chuck said, "I've been following what he's been doing with the Fusion Foundation funds. He's diversified their holdings into farms, food processing plants, and small manufacturing firms. He's dropped almost all of the service industries and financial companies." Betsy said, "I know. What about you? What are you investing in?" "I've kept with smaller chains, like supermarkets, convenience stores, and repair places. My last big investment was in a chain that repairs the brakes on cars." "Why those sectors?" "I figure that if the economy tanks, people still need to eat. Plus, they'll fix things rather than replace them." "Smart," Betsy said. Chuck said, "I was kind of happy when I realized what your brother was doing with the Fusion Foundation funds. Everyone was telling me to put money into the financial companies to take advantage of the credit card derivatives market, but I don't trust them. When I saw what your brother was doing, I felt justified in leaving them alone." "There's such a thing as a credit card derivative?" "Yes. It's the same as the home loan derivatives, except rather than applying to home loans they apply to credit card loans. There is also a car loan derivatives market. They all come with the same kinds of risks except the consequences of failure in credit card and car loan derivative markets are even worse. If someone defaults on a home loan, the bank owns the house. If someone defaults on a credit card, the bank owns air," Chuck said. "Did you say that people are speculating in the credit card derivatives market?" "Yes." Betsy thought about what William had said about a major economic collapse. He had given her a glimpse of the future, but Chuck had just filled in a lot of the blanks. If people defaulted on home loans, car loans, and credit card debt all at the same time, the entire financial basis of the civilized world could collapse. Governments could fall. In short, all money could disappear almost overnight. Betsy said, "I'm buying a fishing boat." "Why?" "I think that it is one of the best investments possible at the current time," Betsy said. "Do you want to know the saddest thing?" "What?" "I agree with you," Chuck said. "If the economy tanks, there won't be a single tourist in Hawaii. Every hotel on the beach will close. Nearly every restaurant will shut down. All of the souvenir places will close. The only source of revenue for the state will be pineapples and fish." "What about all of import/export businesses?" "What money will we be using for importing and exporting things?" Chuck asked. "You're right," Betsy said. William had said that there wouldn't be a billionaire left, after the economy collapsed. At the time, it had seemed impossible to her. Now that she started to understand how the collapse might happen, she would have been surprised to learn if any millionaires would be left. "Maybe." Chuck leaned back in his chair and thought about it. He hadn't really given much thought to what would happen if the credit card derivatives market collapsed. That put a whole new spin on things and it would have far reaching consequences. William's investment activities of the past few years suddenly made a lot more sense to him. He didn't know anything about William other than what he had observed in how he was handling the Fusion Foundation investments. As a nonprofit organization, its financial transactions were public record. Then he recalled that William was a servant of the Two-Sided One. Why would a servant of the Two-Sided One be so involved with finance? The answer to that question made him uneasy. The only answer he could come up with, was that William was providing a service to the Gods and Goddesses with each investment. After a minute of silence, he said, "This changes things. I'm going to have to re-examine my investment strategy. I've got a hell of a lot of work ahead of me." "What about our date?" Betsy asked. "What about it?" "Is it still on?" Chuck snorted and replied, "Even a volcanic eruption won't stop me from showing up at your door at seven tonight, with flowers and chocolates in hand. If necessary, I'll bring a bag of marshmallows and we'll roast them over the volcano." "That sounds romantic," Betsy said with a laugh. "How about we do that? You know, have a fire on the beach and roast marshmallows after dinner?" "Now that really sounds romantic," Betsy said. Chuck said, "Let your friends know." Betsy said, "You know. I've got a better idea. How about we have a Luau on the beach behind my house?" "That's an interesting idea," Chuck said. "Let's do it." "Great," Chuck said. Betsy said, "I guess I should run on home and get things ready for the date." "Sure," Chuck said. "What should I bring?" "Don't worry. I'll take care of everything," Betsy said meaning that Charlie would be taking care of everything, while she ran around the house trying to figure out what to wear. Chuck said, "How about I bring along a couple gallons of Hawaiian Fruit Blast." "Great. I'll let Sally and Steve know what to expect," Betsy said. It was thirty minutes later before Betsy actually ran off. Their good-bye lasted a little longer than either had expected. It was the arrival of a customer that finally brought it to an end. ------- As promised, Chuck showed up at the house with flowers and chocolates in hand at seven o'clock sharp. He was dressed in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt with sandals on his feet. He knocked on the door with the vain hope Betsy that would answer it. Upon answering the door, Gary grinned and cooed, "Oh! That's so sweet. You brought me flowers and chocolates." Somewhat speechless for a second, Chuck looked at him trying to figure out a witty retort, but was unable to come up with one. "The flowers and chocolates are not for you. Sorry," he said. Gary laughed as he said, "Come in. Betsy and Sally are still getting ready." "I figured that would be the case. Don't worry, I'm not disappointed. In fact, I came on time just so I could watch you clean your gun," Chuck said. Grinning broadly, Gary said, "Sorry to disappoint you. Today, I'm target practicing. Would you like to hold up a target or two?" "As exciting as that sounds, I'd rather not." "I don't blame you," Gary said. He gestured over at Steve and said, "You haven't met Steve yet. He's Sally's date." Betsy and Sally entered the room. Seeing them out of the corner of his eye, Gary continued, "Steve, this is Chuck. You know, the big hunky smart guy who shall be the father of Betsy's children ... if I remember how she described him correctly." "I'm going to kill you," Betsy said. Sally and Steve burst into laughter since that was exactly how Betsy had described him after she had returned from her run. Chuck stood there with his mouth opening and closing. Betsy had turned a rather unnatural red color that spread from head to toe. Gary said, "You can't kill me, yet. I'm the cook." Betsy growled. When she heard a laugh from above, she glared at the ceiling and said, "I'm glad you find this so funny." Chuck handed Betsy the flowers and chocolates and said, "I brought these for you." "Oh! That's so sweet. You brought me flowers and chocolates," Betsy cooed. Chuck shot a glance over at Gary who just smiled back at him. Betsy and Sally, unaware of the earlier exchange between Chuck and Gary, didn't understand the meaning of the current exchange. Steve, who had heard how Gary had greeted Chuck, was having a hard time keeping from laughing. "It's a party, folks. Let's get to the beach," Gary shouted while rubbing his hands together excitedly. Chuck said, "I've got some stuff in my car." Steve said, "I'll help you with it. It'll give us a chance to plot the demise of Gary." "I like you already," Chuck said. Betsy said, "There's no need to plot. His time is limited and is to be measured in hours." Sally said, "Before you start killing Gary, you have to put those beautiful flowers in some water." Gary said, "I'll meet you all at the beach." While Betsy and Sally put the flowers into a vase with water, Steve and Chuck carried in a five gallon insulated water carrier filled with Hawaiian Fruit Blast. There was a package of red plastic cups, along with a couple of bags of large marshmallows on top of the lid. Steve was holding a handful of wire marshmallow sticks in his free hand, while Chuck had a bunch of flower leis hanging from his free hand. Betsy and Sally quickly relieved the men of the flowered leis, cups, marshmallows, and marshmallow sticks. The two men followed them out to the beach, while appreciating the view presented by two attractive women wearing bikini tops and shorts. Once again, Chuck was thankful this was a double-date. While they walked, Betsy said, "I have to apologize. It turns out that you can't start a proper Hawaiian Luau at eleven in the morning on the day of the Luau. It seems that you have to start preparing the site real early in the morning ... like about 4 AM." "I know that. I only remembered after you left," Chuck said. "So we kind of had to improvise a beach party with fish, chicken, and beef cooked over a grill. It's kind of a barbecue version of a Luau." "That's fine. In fact, that's kind of what I expected," Chuck said. Betsy shrank a little and added, "Since it is basically in the backyard, the staff kind of got involved. It's going to be a few more people than the four of us." "That's great," Chuck said. "Uh, well. When the neighbors heard about it, they kind of wrangled an invitation," Betsy said. Chuck said, "The more the merrier." "You aren't upset?" Betsy asked. "Not at all," Chuck answered. Considering the way she looked, he doubted that he would have the kind of self-control to keep from scaring her off. All he wanted to do was hold on to her, and never let go. With Gary standing watch and having a large number of people around, it would be a lot easier to keep from acting on the inappropriate thoughts he was having. "That's good," Betsy said. Considering the way he looked, she doubted that she would have the kind of self-control to keep from scaring him off. All she wanted to do was hold on to him and never let go. Having a large number of people around would make it a lot easier to keep from acting on the inappropriate thoughts she was having. Betsy leaned over to Sally and whispered, "If I start getting too aggressive, hit me." Sally whispered back, "Why?" "I don't want to scare him off," Betsy whispered back. "Okay." Walking ten feet behind the women, Chuck leaned over to Steve and whispered, "If I start acting like a jerk around Betsy, hit me." Steve whispered back, "Why?" "I don't want to scare her off," Chuck whispered back. "Okay. Chuck looked around, puzzled. Steve asked, "What's the matter?" "I must be hearing things. I keep hearing this effeminate laughter coming from nowhere," Chuck answered. "It's the Two-Sided One. It finds my love life a source of great humor," Betsy said. Chuck frowned and asked, "Has the Two-Sided One done this before?" Unaware of what she was saying, Betsy answered, "No. You're the first love of my life." "That's nice to know," Steve said. "Isn't it, Chuck?" "Uh ... yeah," Chuck said not quite following what Betsy meant. He thought it was kind of early in the relationship for him to be a love of her life, despite the fact that he felt that way about her. Every time he looked at her, he just wanted to hold her and never let go. He was convinced that what he was feeling wasn't lust, but was something a whole lot deeper than that. He just didn't know what to do about it. They finally reached the beach. Chuck was amazed by what he saw. There was a large open barbecue pit with a grill over it. Ears of corn and potatoes wrapped in foil were nestled in the coals. Steaks, chicken quarters, and foil wrapped pieces of fish were arranged on the grill. A table loaded with a variety of salads was off to the side. There were at least a dozen people gathered around the area. Chuck actually recognized all of them, since they were all customers of his store. A few of them, like George and Bess, he had known since he was a little kid. He waved and shouted, "Hello, George; hi, Bess. It's nice to see you." George shouted, "Hey, Chuck. Nice seeing you here." Bess shouted, "I see that you finally worked up enough courage to tackle Betsy when she was running past your store." A number of people laughed as Betsy said, "He didn't tackle me. I tripped and fell." Steve and Chuck lifted the water carrier onto the table and George wandered over to ask, "What's in the water cooler?" "I brought some Hawaiian Fruit Blast," Chuck answered. George turned and shouted, "Hey, everyone! Chuck brought a batch of his Hawaiian Fruit Blast." Almost immediately there was a crowd around the table. Since Steve was right there, he fixed two cups – one for Sally and one for himself. Sally was quickly at his side taking the cup. She said, "I've heard about this stuff." Steve turned to Chuck and said, "Hey, this is great! Maybe you should have brought some more." "I didn't expect so many people," Chuck said looking at the crowd around the water carrier. "That's okay. I think Alice made a couple batches of iced tea. No one will go thirsty," Steve said. "That's good," Chuck said. He looked around and asked, "Where's Betsy?" "She's over there yelling at Gary," Steve said pointing in their general direction. Chuck said, "Doesn't she know that he's just doing the Papa Bear thing?" Sally said, "Why don't the three of us take a little walk while Betsy is busy with Gary?" Steve said, "Good idea." "Uh..." Sally grabbed Chuck by the arm and led him towards the beach. Steve walked along the other side of Chuck as if to make sure that he couldn't escape. Once they were out of earshot of everyone else, Sally said. "I need to know your intentions towards Betsy." "I like her a lot," Chuck said. Sally frowned. She was hoping for something a little stronger than mere liking her. She turned him around so that he was facing Betsy. "Look at her and tell me what you feel," Sally said. "She's the most beautiful and charming woman that I've ever met in my entire life," Chuck answered. Sally had been watching his eyes while he was talking. She grinned and said, "You love her, don't you?" "Maybe," Chuck said. "Yes, you do!" "Well..." Betsy looked over in their direction and started to head their way. Rushing to get to the point, Sally said, "Look. You're the first man Betsy has ever dated. You're the first guy she's ever kissed. Be patient with her when she does something awkward. Please, don't hurt her." "I'd never hurt her," Chuck said indignant at the suggestion. Betsy arrived and asked, "What are you talking about?" Sally mumbled something unintelligible. Chuck said, "She's after my recipe for Hawaiian Fruit Blast." "You'd better give it to me before you give it to her," Betsy said. "Okay, I give up," Sally said with a smile. The meat was cooked and eaten along with all of the side fixings. The sun set and the fire was built up once again to cast enough light for everyone to see by. People gathered in a circle around the fire, looking at it and talking. There was laughter when jokes were told, moans when the unintended pun was spoken, and lots of times when people just enjoyed the fire. The roar of the surf filled the times of silence so that it was never uncomfortable. It was a pleasant way to spend an evening. The four young people joined in the general merriment, almost forgetting that it was supposed to be a date rather than just a gathering of friends. As time passed, a couple here and couple there wandered off to head for home. Bess and George were among the first to leave. It wasn't long before it was only a handful of guests left. Chuck said, "Isn't that Nancy over there with Gary?" "Yes. They're dating," Betsy said. "Does she know that he enjoys torturing young lovers?" Chuck asked. "I don't know. Maybe we should tell her about that horrible flaw in his character," Betsy said with a giggle. Steve leaned over and said, "Sally and I are going to take a walk along the beach. I hope you don't mind." "Have fun," Betsy said. Sally said, "We won't be gone long." "There's no need to rush on our account," Chuck said. Betsy and Chuck watched Steve and Shelly walk towards the beach. Chuck said, "I like your friends." "Sally is the first friend my age that I ever had," Betsy said. "Why was that?" "I used to be a little hyperactive. It made getting close to people a little difficult," Betsy said. "That's a shame," Chuck said. Betsy said, "It wasn't like I was isolated or anything. I was surrounded by a loving family. I have a lot of acquaintances back in Arizona, it was just that there wasn't that intimacy that you have with a real good friend." "I know what you mean. My pal Harry is my best friend. We've known each other since we were five years old," Chuck said. "I'd like to meet him," Betsy said. Chuck said, "He's overseas with the Army. He's involved in that mess in Pakistan. I worry about him, and hope that it won't screw up his head. I watch the news nearly every night hoping to hear that we've won, but it doesn't seem to ever come to an end." "I know exactly what you mean. Alice has two sons over there," Betsy said. "I'm sure she's worried about them." "Charlie is dating one of them," Betsy said. "Your secretary is dating one of Alice's sons?" "Yes." "How does Alice feel about that?" "Alice doesn't have a problem with it. She's happy her son, who is a Marine, is dating a woman who is a Marine." "I didn't realize that Charlie was a Marine," Chuck said. "That's how she lost her foot." "I didn't realize she had lost a foot." Betsy said, "Oops. I probably shouldn't have mentioned anything about it." "Her secret is safe with me," Chuck said. Gary came over and announced, "I'm taking Nancy home. I'll probably be late getting back." "Don't worry about Betsy. I'll take care of her," Chuck said. "That's what I'm worried about," Gary said. Betsy said, "One more word from you, and I'll go tell Nancy that you have a sexually transmitted disease that you got from a tryst with a transsexual you picked up on the dock." "That's cold," Chuck said with a chuckle. Gary said, "I'll be good." "You better be," Betsy said. They watched Gary go over to Nancy and then lead her towards the path to the house. Gary was very careful to steer her around anything that might trip her. Chuck said, "He does a pretty good job of playing Papa Bear." "What's that mean?" Betsy asked. "It means that he cares a lot about you. He puts on a tough guy act around me to let me know that I should be nice to you," Chuck said. "He is a tough guy. He could snap you in half without breaking a sweat." "That may be true, but inviting me to hold the targets for him while he's target practicing isn't exactly exhibiting that kind of toughness. What he's doing is more of a gentle hint for me to treat you with respect. It's not mean, but subtle in a rather obvious way. Now if he really thought that I was being mean to you or taking advantage of you, he wouldn't invite me to hold the target – I would be the target." "You're probably right," Betsy said. She knew that if Gary wanted to intimidate Chuck, that Chuck would definitely be intimidated. That he wasn't terrified suggested that the two men actually understood each other. It was one of those mysterious male things that her fathers occasionally did that baffled her mothers so much. She didn't think she'd ever understand it. "It looks like everyone is gone," Chuck said. Betsy looked around and said, "You're right. I didn't notice anyone leave." Chuck looked up at the sky. He said, "There's a nice moon tonight." "Yes," Betsy said looking up at it. "Care for a moonlight stroll along the beach?" For a split second, Betsy remembered a discussion she had with Sally about how she would never experience a romantic walk along a moonlit beach. The memory was so strong that it almost brought tears to her eyes. She fought back the tears. "I'd love to have a romantic walk along a moonlit beach with you," Betsy said. Chuck rose from the sand and held out a hand for her. She took it and stood up. Together they walked down the beach towards the water, each with an arm held around the other. They reached the water and looked out at the waves rolling to shore. The moonlight reflected off the water. It was a magical sight. Several hours later they returned to where the party had been held. Someone had covered the fire pit with sand to prevent a fire from spreading. They sat down on the sand, nearby. Chuck had an arm wrapped protectively around Betsy. She was resting her head against his chest. In a tone of voice suggesting that he was pondering one of the great mysteries of life, Chuck asked, "How long is a moonlit stroll supposed to last?" "I don't know. We probably set a record," Betsy said. "I don't want this evening to end," Chuck said. "Me neither," Betsy said. "Neither do we," Sally said from somewhere in the shadows. Betsy said, "I guess we're not alone." She looked around and spotted the top of a bikini on the sand behind her. She picked it up and waved it around. In a loud voice, she said, "I wonder who this belongs to." "Uh, oh," Sally said with a giggle. Betsy then spotted a pair to panties. She held it up and asked, "Hey, Chuck. What is this?" "It appears to be a pair of panties," Chuck answered. Steve said, "Would you mind taking another stroll around the beach?" "Why?" Betsy asked. "Uh ... You're sitting on our clothes," Sally said. Betsy asked, "What do you think, Chuck? Should we take another stroll around the beach?" "I'd love to," Chuck said. They were only gone a half an hour that time and only made it about fifty yards down the beach. The first pause to gaze lovingly in each other's eyes had escalated into a major make out session with Betsy wrapping herself around him. Their libidos were running quite high. When they returned to where the party had been held, Chuck sat down on the sand. This time, Betsy sat down on his lap facing him. Betsy pushed him back so that he was lying on his back looking up at her. She adjusted her position so that she could feel his stiffened manhood and then removed her bikini top. She grabbed his hands and put them on her breasts. When his thumbs brushed over her nipples, they turned diamond hard. She'd never felt anything like it. She started to lean down so that she could push a nipple into Chuck's mouth to see what that felt like. Gary's voice thundered, "What are you doing? There was a startled scream from the shadows. Surprised, Betsy flew off of Chuck, and scrambled around looking for her bikini top. Chuck rolled over trying to hide his rather obvious erection. Gary shouted, "I nearly killed you. I though you were intruders." Steve's voice replied to Gary, "We were just having a little outdoor fun." Betsy finally found her bikini top. She was frantically trying to put it on. It seemed to her that she was suddenly all thumbs. "Why weren't you on the beach?" "Uh ... Betsy's out there." Gary said, "It's three o'clock in the morning." Frustrated, Betsy growled, "I was so close." Her breathing was hard. She had been so ready for things to escalate to their natural progression that in a few minutes, not even a volcanic eruption would have stopped her. Thinking about volcanoes reminded her that she had one, boiling over, between her legs. "I'm so sorry. I was about to lose control of myself," Chuck said apologetically. Another few seconds and his lips would have been latched onto her breasts. He doubted that even Gary's presence would have slowed him down after that. Gary said, "I'm going to check on the fire. I don't know if anyone put it out." "I did," Steve said. "Oh, thanks." "You're welcome." "I'm going back to the house," Gary said. Still panting, Betsy and Chuck sat side by side on the sand. She looked up at the sky and said, "If I hear an effeminate laugh from nowhere, I'm going to march to your meadow and tear someone a new asshole." There was an effeminate laugh from above. Betsy screamed in frustration. Edited By TeNderLoin Hehehehee!!! ------- Chapter 22 Sally looked up from her microscope. She smiled upon seeing the slightly dazed expression on Betsy's face. "So how was the date Tuesday night?" "It was great," Betsy answered. "So what did you do?" "We had dinner at the condo," Betsy said. She'd had a stack of ten large pizzas delivered to the condo before he had arrived. There were still a few slices left. "That's convenient. When did he leave?" "What's today?" Betsy asked. Sally's eyebrows shot up. "It's Thursday." "He left Thursday," Betsy said with a grin. There was no doubt about what Betsy meant. Curious, Sally asked, "How was it?" "It was great. I had no idea how great it would be. I like it! I like it a lot. I never wanted to stop doing it." "So why did you stop?" Sally asked. "We'd still be in bed if the relator hadn't called to show the condo. She brought over some guy who took one look out the window, and offered to buy it on the spot," Betsy said. "So you're actually going to sell it," Sally said. Betsy said, "We're signing the papers tomorrow. I guess I should start moving the rest of my stuff over to your old place." For all intents and purposes, Betsy had moved into Sally's apartment. All that remained in her condo was the bed, a dining room table, and a sofa. She had decided to have Chuck over to the condo rather than the apartment because the view from the condo window was just so spectacular. "Aren't you supposed to sign papers on a boat tomorrow?" Sally asked. "Tomorrow is going to be a very busy day," Betsy said. "Well, Professor Parrish has been looking for you," Sally said. "I wonder what he wants," Betsy said. "Maybe he's worried because you weren't around for two and a half days," Sally answered. "I worked all night Monday, so that I wouldn't fall behind in my work." "So are you behind?" "Just a little. I did expect to be in here bright and early this morning, but things came up and we kind of lost track of the time," Betsy said. "What kind of things could possibly come up?" Sally asked with a mischievous grin. "Well, you know..." Wide-eyed and acting innocent, Sally said, "I have no idea." "Okay. We went at it like bunnies this morning," Betsy admitted. "Bunnies? That's interesting. So you were hopping around and eating carrots?" Betsy stared at Sally. Sally burst out laughing at the expression on her friend's face. Betsy realized that she'd been had. "We had sex. It wasn't 'making love.' It was down and dirty fucking. It was hard. It was raw. It was great!" Betsy said with a smile on her face. "Oh, my." "Yeah." "Did you break him?" "No. I didn't even come close to breaking him, although there were a few times when he had a hard time breathing." "Tell me more." "I'd love to, but I've got to find Professor Parrish," Betsy said with an evil grin. "Don't leave me hanging like this!" "Help me move and I'll tell you the rest," Betsy said. "Let me know when to be there," Sally said. "I will," Betsy said. She had only taken two steps towards the door when her cell phone rang. She fished it out of her pocket and looked at the caller ID. It was the number for a house phone at the Arizona Carter home. "Hello?" Bill said, "Hi, Betsy. It's me." "Hi, Bill. What's up?" Betsy asked. "I'm flying into Hawaii next week to meet with the state about opening a recycling facility on the Oahu," Bill said. "Next week?" "I'll be there on Tuesday," Bill said. Betsy said, "You're really moving along on this." "I had a delegation from the state come to the Los Angeles facility. They came specifically to ask me to put in a facility. They really want something on the island. They sure were surprised when I mentioned that I already had funding lined up, in case we pursued a facility there," Bill said. "I told you it was a big problem here," Betsy said feeling a little smug. "You were right. I guess I kind of underestimated the interest the facility would generate there," Bill said. Betsy said, "Well, I'm moving out of the condo tonight. I can put you up in my new apartment. It'll be a little tight, but it'll be okay." "You didn't keep the condo long," Bill commented. "William suggested I sell it," Betsy said. "So you sold it." "That's right." Bill said, "William's been real busy lately. He calls, tells us to do something, and then hangs up. I don't know what's going on." "Don't worry about it, just do exactly what he says," Betsy said. If William were to call her and tell her to stand on one foot while touching her nose with the pinky finger of her left hand for an hour, she would do it with no questions asked other than to learn which foot she should stand on. The fact that he was busy wasn't a good sign. She had this mental image of a giant doomsday clock rapidly moving towards twelve o'clock. "You aren't the first one to give me that advice," Bill said. "Just make sure that you follow it," Betsy said. "No problem. Anyway, I've got to get back to my meeting. I'll have Mary let Charlie know the exact details of my arrival," Bill said. "All right. I'll see you Tuesday," Betsy said. She closed her phone deep in thought. A lot of what Bill said worried her. Things were suddenly moving a little too quickly for her peace of mind. She looked up to see that Sally was looking at her. Her cell phone rang again. She looked at the caller ID, and answered it. "Hello, William." "It's time to do a Paul Revere," William said. "What's that mean?" "Tell your friends and family that bad times are coming, and they need to be prepared. Use your imagination in providing details. Odds are, you will be understating what will happen," William answered. "When will it happen?" Betsy asked. "When it happens. I'll let you know early enough to get everyone to safety." William hung up. Betsy closed her cell phone before looking over at Sally. Her friend looked very curious about the two calls. "Sally." "What?" "If I should call you or send an email, about 'horsemen on the move, ' I want you to do exactly what I instruct you to do." "I don't understand," Sally said. Betsy said, "There are storm clouds gathering on the horizon, and it looks like the storm will be a bad one. I want you to promise me that you'll do exactly what I say without question." "I didn't hear anything about a storm on the weather report this morning," Sally said. Betsy took a step forward and lowered her voice. "Sally, I'm not talking weather. I'm talking about a complete collapse of civilization. William's been busy, lately, and that isn't a good sign." "What's William got to do with it?" Sally asked. Betsy said, "I guess you haven't figured it out. William sees the future. He's never wrong about what he says is going to happen. He's predicting a huge crisis that could destroy the world as we know it. If I call you and tell you that 'horsemen are on the move, ' it's because William has raised the alarm. I'll need you to do exactly what I say so that I can protect you and Steve." "Oh come on. No one can see the future," Sally said. "William is a servant of the Two-Sided One. He is the one true prophet. That is his service to the Gods and Goddesses," Betsy said. For Sally, it was as if a light bulb went on in her head. Suddenly, she realized why it seemed as if William was aware of everything around him. "That explains a lot," Sally said. "I need you to promise me that you'll do exactly what I say," Betsy said. "I promise." Betsy said, "Good. Remember. I'll tell you that 'the horsemen are on the move.' You drop everything, and do exactly what I say." "You're scaring me," Sally said. "Good. Be scared. I'm terrified," Betsy said. "I'll do what you say," Sally said. Betsy said, "I better run now. I've got a lot to do." Once Betsy was gone, Sally sat at her lab bench staring at the closed door. The idea that Betsy was terrified, sent chills down her spine. She wondered how someone prepared for the total collapse of civilization. Just thinking the phrase, 'total collapse of civilization', caused her stomach to churn. Betsy walked into Henry's office. He rolled his head over on the back of his recliner, and said, "I'm working on the signal bleed through problems." Betsy said, "Henry, I know that you are the laziest man alive." "I'd argue with you, but I just don't have the energy," Henry said. He frowned when Betsy didn't even crack a smile. He asked, "What's the matter?" "It's a Druid thing," Betsy said. Henry sat up a little straighter. "What's the problem?" "One day, not too far in the future, the shit is going to hit the fan. When I tell you that 'the horsemen are on the move, ' I want you to follow my directions without question. If I say run, you will run. You won't walk. You won't have someone else do the running for you. You will get off your ass and you will haul it to where ever I tell you to go." "Yes, Ma'am," Henry said knowing that if she said it was a Druid thing that she wasn't screwing around. His time spent at the Druid college had taught him that one did not take matters of the Gods and Goddesses lightly. "That's all," Betsy said before turning around and leaving. With his mind racing a thousand miles an hour, Henry stared at the door without really seeing it. After ten minutes, his thoughts crystallized into one main idea. He stood up and walked over to the door. He closed and locked it. He muttered, "I don't want anyone to see me doing exercises. I'd hate to hurt my reputation." Professor Parrish looked up when Betsy knocked on his office door. "Come in." "Thanks," Betsy said. "Where have you been?" "I spent a little time with my boyfriend," Betsy answered. "You need to take your studies a little more seriously than that," he said. "I'm not really behind. I worked all night Sunday night, all day Monday, and most of Monday night," Betsy said. "I didn't realize that," Professor Parrish said. "I guess I should have let you know," Betsy said. Professor Parrish said, "Please do that next time." Betsy looked down at the floor studying the carpet for a moment while trying to figure out how to let her professor know that troubles were coming. "You know that I serve the Two-Sided One, right?" "Yes." "If I send you a message that 'the horsemen are on the move, ' I need you to gather your family and friends and hunker down somewhere safe," Betsy said. "Horsemen? You mean like the four horsemen of the apocalypse?" he asked thinking she was joking. "Exactly," Betsy said. "You aren't serious," Professor Parrish asked starting to get worried. "I'm deadly serious." "You're telling me this as a servant of the Two-Sided One." "Yes." "I'll do it." "Good. You wouldn't happen to own a gun, would you?" "No." "You might want to pick up a couple," Betsy said. "When are the horsemen likely to ride?" "I'm not exactly sure, but I'm confident it will be within a year," Betsy answered before turning and leaving the office. Betsy headed towards the Bloated Shark. She looked down at her cell phone examining all of the features it provided. It was pretty obvious that it didn't provide the features she needed. She wanted to create a number of messages so that they could all be sent out on a moment's notice. She frowned, "I'm going to have to upgrade." She dialed a number. When Charlie answered, Betsy said, "Charlie, I want you to order five modular offices to be set up next to the house." "You know we can't do that. We're going to have all kinds of problems getting permits for them," Charlie said. Shocking Charlie, Betsy said, "I don't care if you have to bribe everyone in town. Get it done. I want them in place by the end of the month." "Yes, Ma'am," Charlie said. She was thinking that she'd look into it, and then let Betsy know what problems there were. She felt that she could moderate Betsy's enthusiasm a bit. Betsy said, "Tell Gary that it's time to stockpile munitions and weapons." "Yes, Ma'am," Charlie said. With that last little order, Charlie realized that Betsy's enthusiasm wasn't going to be moderated. Betsy was preparing for war. That, at least, was something that Charlie understood only too well. You didn't let things like petty bureaucrats get in the way of preparing for a battle. "Tell Stacy to get on a plane, and find five more hotels just like the ones I've already bought," Betsy said. "Five more?" "Yes," Betsy answered. "See if we can get it done for under a million. I'm selling the condominium tomorrow and I'll have the cash on hand for them." Charlie said, "Speaking of that, I will be there tomorrow at the bank." "Good. You'll be able to tell me what kind of progress you've made," Betsy said. "Is there anything else?" "Have Wheels get a couple more cars ready," Betsy said. "Yes, Ma'am." Charlie was really beginning to get worried. "Tell Alice I'd like a years worth of canned food, for forty people, set aside," Betsy said. "What kind of food?" "Vegetables, fruits, and soups," Betsy answered. "We'll need some freezers for storing meat. I guess we'll need flour and stuff like that too." "You're basically telling me to get ready for war." "Exactly," Betsy said. "I know exactly the person to call for all of that. He's in logistics," Charlie said. "Excellent," Betsy said. She disconnect the call and dialed another number. Detective Roberts answered after the second ring. "What do you want?" Betsy said, "Meet me at the Bloated Shark in an hour. Come alone." "Why?" "Don't ask," Betsy said. "Shit," Detective Roberts swore. Betsy disconnected the call. Now that she was off campus, she kicked her pace up into a nice easy run. It only took her ten minutes to reach the Bloated Shark. She paused to look at the boat. She wondered for a minute if the university was going to weather the coming economic storm long enough for her to earn a degree. She went searching for Captain Jack. She found him below deck examining the lift mechanism for the submersible. He didn't look too happy. "Captain Jack." "Hello, Betsy." "I've got to talk to you, privately," Betsy said. "We're the only ones down here. The crew is off doing crew onshore kind of things. Paul is in the equipment room trying to track down the source of the interference," Captain Jack said. "I have it on very good authority that a major crisis is headed our way. I don't know when it is going to hit, but when it does, life as we know it will change. I'll have a little warning before it hits." "Does this have something to do with that bit of gold around your arm?" "Yes." As far as he was concerned, that was all he needed to know. He'd seen Betsy do enough impossible things that if she said that one of her Gods and Goddesses wanted him to take a long walk on a short pier, he'd be searching for the shortest one around. Every sailor knew deep in his or her bones that you don't tempt the Powers That Be. He was no exception. "What do you want me to do?" Captain Jack asked. "One day, I'm going to call you and tell you that 'the horsemen are on the move.' I'll know more about what needs to be done at that time. Please follow my directions exactly." "So long as I'm not breaking a law, I'll do what you ask," Captain Jack said. "You might want to think about preparing a few friends and family to meet you here on the boat," Betsy said. "It's going to be that bad?" Captain Jack asked looking worried. He had assumed that it was her life that was going to change. This kind of suggested that the crisis would be a little bigger than that. "Yes," Betsy said. "I'll get ready," Captain Jack said knowing that you didn't wait for the rain to start falling before battening down the hatches. "Great," Betsy said. "I better get upstairs. Detective Roberts is coming." "He doesn't like you," Captain Jack said. "That doesn't matter. I like him," Betsy said. Betsy went onto the deck and waited for Detective Roberts to arrive. She figured that he'd be early, just because he wasn't the type of person who would try to avoid or postpone getting bad news. It was less than forty minutes after her call when Detective Roberts came trudging up the gangplank. He didn't look happy. Without saying hello, Betsy said, "Follow me." Detective Roberts followed Betsy into her cabin on the ship. He looked around and said, "Kind of small, isn't it?" "It's big enough for its purpose," Betsy answered. "Now that you've got me alone, what do you want?" "You know that I serve the Two-Sided One." "He could have picked someone better," Detective Roberts said. Betsy Carter was not one of his most favorite people. Trouble followed her around, and ended up dragging him into it. The last case she had dropped in his lap ... the espionage case ... had nearly gotten him killed. For the first time in his entire career, he'd had to pull his gun and use it in self defense. Months later, he was still filling out paperwork. "The shit is going to hit the fan and you need to be ready for it," Betsy said. "Oh, God. What now?" he asked closing his eyes. "I want you to do something. I think you'll be pleased with what I'm asking you to do." "What is it?" "I want you to buy a boat and stock it for a long trip. Get one big enough for you, Cat, Sanders, Dale, and, maybe even two beach bunnies. One day, I'll tell you that 'the horsemen are on the move.' I want you to drop everything, get Cat, Sanders, and Dale on board the boat and set sail for a surfing place far from anywhere." "You're going to call me and tell me to go surfing?" Detective Roberts asked incredulously. "Yes." "This is insane," Detective Roberts said. "Tell me what's really going on." "Do you really want to know?" "Yes." "Did you ever see films of the Watts riots?" "Yes." "Imagine that happening here and lasting for months," Betsy said. "Why would we have riots here?" he asked. "I told you. The shit is going to hit the fan," Betsy answered. "This is ridiculous." Betsy leaned forward, putting her nose to nose with him. "Have I ever lied to you?" "No." "That's right. Now, listen closely. One day, in the not so distant future, you're going to have thousands of tourists stranded here unable to pay their hotel bills, and frantically wanting to get home. Idiots who've never been on a boat will try to steal one, to make it back to the mainland. "You're going to have tens of thousands of employees who won't get paid because there won't be any banks capable of cashing a paycheck. Anyone without money, is going to be going after anyone with money. It won't help, because by the end of the first day there won't be a single item in the grocery stores. "The situation will escalate to violence faster than you can imagine. There will be riots in the street. There will be looting. There will be buildings burning. "Any authority figure will be a target of the mob's anger. Your badge will be meaningless, and will only serve to identify you as the next victim. There might not be a government left, by then." Shocked by what Betsy was saying, Detective Roberts stepped back. The back of his legs hit the edge of the bunk and he nearly fell onto it. He stared at Betsy. There was no doubt in his mind that she was serious. "You seem pretty sure." "I am." "I swore to serve and to protect." "You'll have a chance to serve and to protect if you manage to survive the initial chaos. I'm telling you how to survive it." "Shit," Detective Roberts said. "What about my retirement?" "What retirement? There won't be a pension. There won't be social security. If you have any money in a retirement fund, pull it out now and pay the penalty because if you don't, it won't be there after things go south." "What should I do with the money?" "Buy things of real value. A boat has a real value, particularly when you live on an island. Tools, weapons, seeds, food and building materials all have real value. Don't invest in all kinds of property thinking that land is going to be worth something. When the government falls, there's no one to enforce property rights except for the owner. You can't protect property unless you're living on it," Betsy said. "Why do you always give me bad news?" Betsy put a hand on his arm and said, "I'm just trying to help you." "I know." Betsy escorted him off the boat. She watched him drive off. He was talking to himself. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but she imagined that her name was cropping up often, and not in a good way. She smiled and said, "Take care of Cat and the boys." Paul walked over to her and asked, "What's up?" "Not much. Hey, if I or Henry or Captain Jacks calls you and tells you to drop everything, grab your girl, and get to the boat; please do it." "Sure," Paul said. ------- Debbie walked into the conference room at the bank wondering why she had been asked there. Much to her surprise, she spotted Betsy sitting on one side of the conference table. Happy to see a friendly face, she went to sit by her. "Hey, Betsy. What's up?" "Just finishing up a little business," Betsy answered. "Why am I here?" Debbie asked. "You're part of the business that I'm finishing up," Betsy said with a grin. Looking worried, Debbie said, "I got a call from the bank telling me to come here today. I don't know why I'm here." "We're waiting for someone," Betsy said as a man entered the room. Betsy added, "Speak of the devil, here he is." "Skip? What are you doing here?" Debbie asked. He was the biggest boat broker on the island. "Hi, Debbie. I'm here to sell a boat," Skip answered. "Which one?" "The fifty-four foot Rysco." "The June Bride?" "That's the one." "Damn! I wanted that boat!" Debbie said. Skip looked at her like she was crazy. He said, "I know you've had your eye on her for a long time." "Shit. Just another couple thousand, and I would have been able to put down enough to finance it," Debbie said. Betsy asked, "Are you ready to do business." "I am," Skip answered. "Here's the check," Betsy said sliding it across the table. "Have you got the details for the registration?" "Get them from her," Betsy answered gesturing over at Debbie. "What?" Debbie asked. "Oops, I'm getting ahead of myself. We've got to fill out the partnership papers before we buy the boat," Betsy said. "Partnership?" Betsy stuck out a hand and then said, "Hi, partner!" "What?" "As soon as you fill out the papers in front of you, you'll be the majority owner of DB Fishing. DB as in Debbie and Betsy. I know, it's not very creative," Betsy said. Charlie groaned. "Don't tell me that Debbie didn't know that you were doing this." "Okay, I won't tell you that," Betsy said. Debbie was staring at the papers in front of her. They looked pretty simple. A LLC of the name DB Fishing was being set up with her listed as 51% owner. She was to receive 51% of the profit after covering operating costs with Betsy receiving the other 49%. She looked over the document trying to find the catch. She couldn't find one. Debbie asked, "How much is this going to cost me?" "Nothing," Betsy answered. "What am I supposed to do?" "Run the boat, catch fish, and sell them." "What about the boat payment?" "DB Fishing owns the boat outright. No loan. No boat payment." "You're kidding," Debbie said. "Nope. If you want to talk to a lawyer, there's a couple dozen in this building. Just pick one," Betsy said. "I want to talk to a lawyer." "Do you know the difference between a good lawyer and a bad lawyer?" "No." "A bad lawyer can make a case drag on for months. A good lawyer can make it drag on for even longer than that." "That's bad," Debbie said. "We'll wait for you. Maybe I'll see what other boats Skip has for sale. Maybe we can get a fleet," Betsy said. Skip asked, "Are you really interested in other boats?" "Yes," Betsy answered. "I'll be right back," Debbie said. She paused and said, "Don't buy anything while I'm gone." "Okay. Can I at least window shop a little?" "Sure." Once Debbie had left the room, Betsy said, "I'm not sure, but I may have some major boat needs in the future." "What kind of needs?" Skip asked. "Something capable of handling a hundred passengers on a long voyage," Betsy said. "I've got a couple of ships like that starting at two million and going up to as high as ten million," Skip said. "Are they on the island?" Betsy asked. "No. I work with a couple of other brokers around the world. You'll need to fly out and look at them," Skip said. "Are any of them in the far east?" Betsy asked. "I'm sure we can find one," Skip said. "Good. See what you can find," Betsy said. Charlie leaned over and, in a whisper, asked, "Why a ship like that?" "We may have some friends stuck in Pakistan sometime soon. It'd be nice to bring them home," Betsy answered. "You're not going to get any arguments from me on that one," Charlie said. Betsy said, "I may also need a small freighter. Nothing too big, but enough to ship a couple dozen tons of material to the mainland and back." "That might be a little tougher. I know of a couple of inter-island freighters that could make the trip to the mainland," Skip said. "Get me the details," Betsy said, thinking that she could use something like that to take the separated materials from the recycling plant, to the facility in Los Angeles. "What kind of time line for the freighter are you talking about?" Skip asked. "We may have a facility getting built here on the island. It could take nine months to a year to complete. Once that is done, we'll need something to haul some of the products to the mainland," Betsy said. "Why not put it on a regular freighter?" "It's the nature of our business that makes that difficult," Betsy answered. "Okay." Debbie returned to the conference room looking a little shocked. She looked at Betsy and said, "I must have gotten a really bad lawyer. He couldn't even make the consultation last five minutes. He laughed and told me to sign it. He said that I was being given what is effectively a gift worth over a hundred thousand dollars and whatever I manage to bring in with no strings attached." "That sounds like a good deal to me," Betsy said. "Why are you doing this?" "You gave me some pretty good advice. I didn't quite follow it, but it was good advice," Betsy said. It didn't take too long to take care of business. The appropriate papers were signed, titles were filled out for filing, and money changed hands. Skip got ready to leave. He said, "So you want me to look for a hundred passenger yacht and a small freighter?" "Right," Betsy said. "No way," Debbie said. "Those two are associated with some other businesses, not DB Fishing," Betsy said. "Thank goodness," Debbie said. Betsy said, "Besides, I can't sign anything unless you agree with it." "That's what the lawyer said," Debbie said. Betsy said, "I do want you to do one thing for me." "What?" Debbie asked suspiciously. "One day I'll ask you to drop everything you're doing and bring the boat to Kauai. You can bring your boyfriend and any kids, but no crew." "I don't have a boyfriend although now that I own my own boat, I might give Captain Jack a try," Debbie said. "You won't need to bring him. He'll be heading there on the Bloated Shark." "Okay," Debbie said. Betsy said, "Don't you have a boat to pick up?" "Yes." Holding out a piece of paper, Betsy said, "I almost forgot. Here's a place for you to park it. I paid for a year in advance." Debbie took the piece of paper from Betsy. "You thought of everything," Debbie said looking at the information on the piece of paper. "I try," Betsy said. Debbie walked out of the conference room still in a state of shock. She wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but it seemed to be okay. Charlie asked, "Now what? Any more surprises?" "No. I've got a date, tonight," Betsy said. "With Chuck?" "Yes. I'll be flying back with you." "Great, I can give you a ride home." "Actually, you can drop me off at Chuck's place." "Oh. I'll let everyone know not expect you until late." "Yeah, like ... ah ... late Sunday," Betsy said holding up her suitcase. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Part 3: Engagement ------- Chapter 1 In what has to be one of the greatest plays on words of all time, Mark Twain wrote: 'Denial ain't just a river in Egypt.' "This can't possibly be happening. It's impossible. I just won't accept it." Everyone has observed denial at work. Everyone has experienced denial for him or her self. Denial is a universal experience. One can deny it, but that denial rather proves the point. Denial is an unavoidable consequence of how the human mind works. The human mind makes gross generalizations about how the world works, in order to easily deal with the commonplace. Why reason about something when the answer is already known? It is known that two plus two is four, so why bother going through a difficult mathematical proof to prove the answer? There's no need. Denial arises when the world starts working in a way the violates the gross generalizations. For the most part, the mind does a pretty good job with the generalizations that it makes. When one observes that something happens repeatedly, and in the exactly the same way, the mind makes a generalization that it will always happen the same way. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. The mind can even deal with events where the outcome is not always identical, by enumerating the possible outcomes: a tossed coin will land heads up, or heads down. These gross generalizations allow the mind to deal with common situations, without having to go through an exceptionally complex process of reasoning about the outcome. It is well known that A) a coin only has two sides and b) that one side must be up. When a coin is tossed, the mind will make the assumption that there is only one possible outcome – the coin lands, and one of its faces will be upwards. With some experience tossing coins, the mind will generate statistics to determine the frequency with which a head will be up. These aren't the precise statistics of the mathematician, but an imprecise guess in the form of usually, mostly, often, frequently, and rarely. That's a level of precision that is sufficient to deal with most situations. When asked to predict an outcome, the mind doesn't even attempt the nearly impossible calculation of the physical dynamics of tossing a coin to predict which side will land facing upwards. It can select one possible result without any information about the coin or the toss knowing that it will be wrong half of the time. On the other hand, it will be correct the half of the time and that is usually good enough. However, there are other outcomes to a coin toss that do not fit the generalizations. They are absent because the mind has glossed over some facts about coins and the act of tossing them. There are actually three sides to a coin: the head, the tail, and the edge. Something that is tossed upwards does not always come down. The rare outcome is that the coin doesn't land or it could land on the edge rather than the face. In fact, those outcomes are so rare that the mind assumes (i.e.: believes) that they will never happen. Most of the time, these gross generalizations work. An individual can survive, or even thrive, based on them. Day in and day out, the strongly held generalizations run consistent with reality. The right decisions are made. The outcomes are as desired. Denial arises in situations when the mind has a strongly held belief that the world works in one way, and is faced with a rising reality that contradicts that belief. How can one have a strongly held belief that contradicts reality when these beliefs derive from a lifetime of experience? Well, the world, particularly in terms of economics, business, fashion, and government, is not nearly as stable as one might believe. Things do change and can change dramatically, almost overnight. (Don't even try to deny it.) Eastern Europe, which had been under communist rule for forty years managed to eliminate communist rule over a two year period. The revolution in Romania 'officially' began on December 16 and ended on December 25 with the execution of President Ceau?escu. That's nine days for an uprising to begin, a government to end, and the former leadership executed after a public trial. The fall of the communist government in the Soviet Union extended over a six year period after having been in power since 1922. Everyone of working age had lived their entire life under communist rule, and then one day it was gone. A company that appears healthy one day, declares bankruptcy the next. "My job is essential, I perform it well, and people purchase the product I make. Hence, I will not be laid off from my job." Such logic stands strong in the face of announced layoffs. Your job is not essential, you do not perform it well, or people do not purchase the product you make, hence you will be laid off from your job. It is exceptionally easy to deny that one's job is at risk; until the day the pink slip comes, and you are escorted from the building. Even as one leaves the building, it is easy to say that it can't be happening. All is well, until 'the change winds' blow, and the way the world works is altered in a fundamental way. One must choose denial or acceptance, there is no alternative. Unfortunately, it is far easier to deny change, than accept that nothing will ever be the same. ------- Betsy, despite losing her need to be constantly moving, very seldom just sat around doing nothing. One of the beneficiaries of her constant activity was her research. She had tagged over twenty sharks during a two month period and collected an impressive quantity of high quality data. A picture of the routes taken by the sharks in traversing from one area of the ocean to another was beginning to emerge. Twenty genetic samples weren't enough to establish a full picture of breeding colonies and the degree of mixing among them. However, she had collected nearly three times that since her samples were being augmented by those collected at various piers around the world by associates. Fishermen, proud of their catches, brought sharks to shore and a number of biologist friends would take samples from them. As a result of the influx of samples, Betsy was spending more time in the laboratory than on the Bloated Shark. She was spending so much time there, that Dr. Woods, whose lab she was using, had begun to get upset that every time he went to run a sample he had to wait for Betsy to finish what she was doing. The sudden appearance of four Raptor 9000s in the lab had gone far to calm the waters since Betsy had handed three over to him for his use. The campus at the current time was quiet. The spring semester had just ended and the majority of students had all returned home. Faculty and staff were off taking care of things they had let slide during the hectic final days of the semester. As a result, a handful of faculty and the full time graduate students who were working on their research were all that remained on campus. It was a highly productive time for everyone who remained at work. Betsy had finished examining the genetic data gathered and was sitting at the small desk in the Dr. Wood's laboratory. She was thinking back over the activities of the past few months. They had been hectic months considering all that she had to accomplish in a relatively short period of time. The major source of her activities originated with William. It seemed to her that he was sending her thirty partnership agreements, with small privately owned companies, every day. She had to sign and return them to him. When she suggested that she just sign a Power of Attorney, he dismissed the idea with a snort, and then hung up on her. She got the message. She had no idea how many people were working for him to take care of all of these deals. She did know that her whole family was involved in similar activities. Based on her parent's worth and the worth of the Fusion Foundation, William was pumping close to four hundred billion dollars into small companies, farms, and shops all around the world. The sheer scale of what he was doing was mind-boggling. All she knew was that she was now a minor partner in nearly three thousand companies. Her share of the partnership was always around ten percent, which was always just enough that she could get the primary owner's attention when she wanted it. They were always companies, somewhat strapped for cash, that were just a little too small to compete in the larger markets dominated by the multinational corporations. She provided a much need injection of cash and gained a minor interest in the company. She got ownership on the basis of what was really a minimal investment in most cases. Charlie was working double time trying to keep up with all of paperwork dealing with the acquisition of those companies. In fact, she had brought in four temps to help her. The paperwork was almost staggering in volume. Keeping track of each acquisition, who owned it, what they produced, how much they made, and how many people worked there; was a full time job. Betsy was kept busy along with Charlie. In addition to signing papers, there were calls that Betsy had to make to introduce herself to her new partner. It was often an awkward and uncomfortable conversation in which she basically told her partner to run the company and not to worry about her. It was amazing how few of them believed that she wasn't going to come in and try to establish herself within the company. Although she only recently recognized what he had done, she was now the proud partner in every kind of company that stood between food production and the end consumer. In addition, she was a partner in companies that dealt with raw minerals all of the way through production of essential consumer goods – items like clothing, shoes, and pots and pans. In short, she had a part interest in small companies that made the things people needed to live. In addition to purchasing companies, William was having her set up stockpiles of food, near every one of the companies in which she was a partner. It was insane trying to keep up with it all. For a while, Charlie had hired additional temporary people just to deal with the food stockpiles. It was always the same instructions, one month's supply of food for each and every employee and his or her family. After the first fifty food caches, they had it down to a science: so many cases of this staple food, and so many cases of that staple food, for every employee. She had purchased five small motels at locations scattered around the country, but William had called her and told her to sign them over to the Druid College. He had simply said that her role wasn't to protect people or to shelter them, since Druids existed for that purpose. She had another purpose to serve. She had signed over all of the motels with the exception of the one in Vancouver over to the Druid College knowing that the properties would serve their purpose even if it was under the watchful eyes of others. She was happy knowing that she had enabled others to better serve The Powers That Be. Construction had started on the recycling plant. It was nowhere near completion, but all of the building materials and equipment that would go into it were stored on site. The project was running low on money, though, and Betsy wasn't sure that she had sufficient funds to see it through to completion. She was beginning to doubt the wisdom of having purchased the fishing boat for Debbie, but there was a nagging suspicion that it was the smartest thing she had done. The one thing that was going great in her life, was her relationship with Chuck. He had taught her how to drive, and she now had a driving license. She also had a car that Wheels had fixed up for her. It was fully loaded with every modern convenience. It also had an extremely powerful electric motor that turned what appeared to be a middle of the road sedan into a high performance machine. The body was reenforced to survive even a major explosion or collision. Every weekend had been spent with him, although she rarely spent the entire night ... that is, if one considers coming home at four in the morning as not having spent the entire night. One of those weekends where she never came home she came to the rather startling realization that, despite her extreme strength and high energy, she did have a tender side to her. She could understand why little petite Sue wasn't afraid of getting broken by big muscular Paul. Not all of their time was spent in bed. They did things together like all couples who are dating. She had even worked in his store a little on Saturdays, finding it a lot more fun than she had thought possible. It was a nice place to meet her neighbors. People would stop in the store and chat for a bit about what was going on in their lives. It sort of reminded her of her home town in Arizona. It was just a few minutes before ten in the morning when she glanced over at the clock on the wall of the lab. Her cell phone rang, and she looked down at the caller ID. Her stomach tightened and her hands shook. She answered the telephone with a tentative, "Hello?" "Betsy, you have forty eight hours," William said. "Forty eight hours?" Betsy asked looking again at the clock with dread. "The bankruptcy that will trigger the collapse will be filed in forty-eight hours. It will only take hours for the whole banking system to fall. Drain your bank accounts dry between now and then. You've got four million left," William said. He hung up, undoubtedly to make some more calls. Betsy stared at the cell phone in her hands. The idea that she was to drain her bank accounts suggested that she go on a shopping spree. Of course, the news that she had four million in the bank was rather surprising. She thought she had nearly triple that amount. She decided that a quarter of a billion dollars didn't go as far today as it used to. She dialed a number and waited impatiently for Ben to answer. When he did answer, she said, "Hello, Ben. This is Betsy." "Hello, Betsy. This is a pleasant surprise. I was thinking of calling you. The investigation into the crash was completed, and I was exonerated in the hearing. I'm keeping my flying license," Ben said. "The timing couldn't have been better," Betsy mused. She had called intending to have him fly out to the island. Inspiration struck, and she said, "I need you to buy an airplane that can make the flight from the mainland to Hawaii." "I'll look into it," Ben said. Because of the time difference, she knew that he wouldn't have much time to purchase a plane. Still, there had to be something that could fit her needs and was available to be snapped up quickly. Betsy said, "Buy it today. Get one off the showroom floor if you have to." "Today?" "Yes, today. I want you on that plane, flying here, by tomorrow," Betsy said. "It doesn't normally work that fast," Ben said. Betsy said, "Go to a bank and open an account. I'll transfer two million over to you. Pay what you need to get the best that you can buy for that money. Take whatever you don't spend as cash and bring it with you." "Okay," Ben said doubtfully. Betsy proceeded to give Ben the information necessary to contact Charlie. She was pretty sure that Ben and Charlie would be busy over the next few hours. She knew that she was going to be very busy. She was going to buy a ship that afternoon. Betsy left the lab and headed directly for her car. While driving over to the marina where Busy Island Boats was located, she filled Charlie in on how she had told Ben to buy an airplane and to make sure that the money was available for him to use. Charlie objected quite strongly to the order to transfer that much money. Her hesitancy was understandable. She realized that Betsy was going to be in a very tight bind, financially, considering that her available cash on deposit was disappearing at a phenomenal rate. All questions came to an end when Betsy said, "The horsemen are on the move." "Let me get my black notebook out," Charlie said. She was making reference to the notebook in which she kept the notes for what to do, when the warning of the fall came. The notes were quite extensive. There were already draft e-mails to send to all of the businesses in which Betsy was a partner, informing the other owner about a stockpile of food and instructions on how to stay in business over the next few months. There were plans on who to call, what to tell them to do, and when they had to be done. "I guess I should have mentioned that first," Betsy said. "Yes," Charlie replied absently. She was still looking for the black notebook. "I've got it. Now, we've got basic plans for everyone. What changes need to be made?" Betsy said, "First inform everyone clean out their bank accounts. The banks won't be around in three days, so any money left in the bank will be lost. I'm pretty sure that the FDIC will not be around to pick up the pieces and pay off the defaults on the accounts." "Got it," Charlie said. "Keep the evacuation plans the same. The boat will be sailing at nine," Betsy said. She wanted to get everyone out of Honolulu before the violence began. The best way to assure that was to have them get on the boat before the events that triggered the fall started. She had people packing up to meet at the Bloated Shark an hour before sailing time. Captain Jack had orders to leave the dock within ten minutes of the scheduled sailing time. Betsy said, "The modular offices should be ready for them." "They are," Charlie said. The fight to get the modular offices had been resolved when Betsy had promised to build a new school. The school board was still arguing over the building plans. She would decide what to do after the full consequences of the coming economic crisis came. For now, they had the buildings on the property and that was the important thing. The security and office building construction had started, but was nowhere near complete. Betsy asked, "How much cash do we have on hand?" "You have a little over a hundred thousand in the safe," Charlie answered. "I'll see what I can do about increasing our cash situation," Betsy said. She didn't know if cash would be of any value after the banking collapse. William was surprisingly tight with information about what would happen. She and Chuck had speculated on what the consequences of the credit card derivatives market collapsing, but it was just speculation. William's statement that the banks would be gone fit into what they had speculated. "Okay," Charlie said. Betsy asked, "How are we doing in terms of arms and munitions?" "We're ready," Charlie said. They were more than ready. They could equip several hundred people if necessary. In addition, the defenses for the property had been completed more than two months ago. Anyone who tried to take the place would discover that they had entered a world of hurt. Betsy said, "Let the staff know that they have the afternoon and tomorrow off to take care of any and all personal matters." "Except for me," Charlie said. "Even you. Once you transfer the money for Ben and send out the e-mails, I won't have anything for you to do. I will use the debit card to pay for the ship." "What ship?" "The one that's going to Pakistan to rescue our men who will be stuck over there," Betsy answered. "Thank you," Charlie said. Knowing that Betsy was going to make sure that Alice's sons were going to make it home, was a major relief. She and Alice had been worried about what was going to happen to members of the military stationed overseas when the economic crash came. They both believed that the government, in trying to deal with the economic situation, would forget about the men and women serving the country overseas. The already low opinion the two women held of the political leadership of the country had dropped to an all time low. Their concerns were not unfounded. Napoleon hadn't been too worried about the men left in Russia once he made his way back to France. Millions of German soldiers had been left behind in Russia, once the government had fallen at the end of World War II. There was no telling how the current government administration would act when things started falling apart on them. Betsy pulled into the parking lot of the Marina where Busy Island Boats was located. This was where Skip had his office. Betsy said, "Send out the emails to everyone at noon. I'll see you when I see you." "Take care of yourself, Betsy." "You take care of yourself," Betsy replied. She hung up the phone and sat there in thought for a minute. She was trying to decide if she would have enough money to purchase the freighter as well as the yacht. The purchase of a plane had not been included in her financial planning. She wanted to kick herself for the oversight. Well, it was too late, now. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knocking on the window. She turned and looked at at the woman standing beside her car. For a moment, she didn't recognize the woman standing there wearing a very conservative pant suit. She got out of the car and exclaimed, "Penny! What are you doing here?" "I don't know. I was called," Penny answered. "You can't imagine my surprise when you showed up." "I'm here to buy a boat," Betsy said. Penny said, "That's interesting. I feel a need to have a boat." "It's yours," Betsy declared flatly. "Mine?" Penny said still wondering why she was called to get a boat. There were a lot of recreational boats for sale there of various makes and models. She had been there for ten minutes staring at them and wondering why she was there to get a boat, particularly when she didn't have the money to purchase one. After all, what would she do with a pleasure craft intended for deep sea fishing? She was pretty sure that it wasn't to retire. "Yes," Betsy answered feeling the rightness of her decision. The two women went into the offices of Busy Island Boats. They walked through the showroom where a number of boat accessories were on display. One of the salesmen on the floor headed in their direction. One could almost see the dollar signs in his eyes upon seeing two attractive women coming in to purchase a boat. He could just see himself earning a bit of money off daddy's money. Betsy raised a hand and said, "We're here to see Skip." Looking a little deflated, the salesman said, "Go up the stairs to the offices there." He pointed in the direction of the stairs. The lower level was where the public bought, sold, or leased boats. The big money boats were sold upstairs where the carpet was thick. "Thanks," Betsy said. The two women went upstairs. A receptionist sat at a very expensive looking desk. She looked up at the two women and asked, "How may I help you?" "We need to see Skip." Glancing down at her appointment book, she said, "You don't have an appointment." "Just tell him that Betsy Carter is here to buy a ship." "Betsy Carter," the woman asked examining Betsy critically. "Yes." The woman got on the phone. The expression on her face changed. She glanced back up at Betsy, and then nodded her head. A second later, she hung up the phone. "Skip will be right out," the receptionist said with much more respect in her voice. Skip came out of one of the offices and walked over to Betsy. He said, "It's nice to see you again." "Have you found a yacht for me?" Betsy asked. "I've found two that would meet the requirements you gave me," Skip said well aware that Betsy wasn't the kind of client interested in exchanging small talk before a deal. "Great. Tell me about them," Betsy said. "I expect to walk out of here owning a boat." "Ship," Skip corrected. "That's a big move up from a boat," Betsy said with a wink. The receptionist rolled her eyes thinking that Skip had gotten a hold of a live one. Penny Vinter walked over to a display of antique belaying pins. The wooden pins showed the effects of age and years spent in active use. She picked up four of them and started to juggle them. Horrified, the receptionist said, "Put those back." Penny smiled. She knocked one pin at a time out of it's path. The pin would arc through the air and then land inside the mount from which it came. She said, "That's an interesting weapon." "They are not weapons. They are belaying pins and are used to secure ropes on wooden ships," the receptionist said as if lecturing a first grader. Penny said, "And they were used as weapons by sailors hard pressed during a boarding. Many a man has been bludgeoned to death with one of these." "Well ... yeah," the receptionist said knowing that was also true. "I'm one of the world's foremost authorities on weapons," Penny said. "Oh, you study them," Skip said. Betsy laughed. "She uses them and with great effect from what all of my Marine friends tell me." "Oh," the receptionist said. "Interesting," Skip said. "I'm ready to buy a ship," Betsy said. Skip led the two women to his office. Once there, he brought out the information on the two ships he had found. He handed the folders over to Betsy who glanced over them and then handed them over to Penny. After glancing through the two folders, Penny said, "There aren't any interior pictures of one of these ships – the Floating Phallus." Betsy snickered at hearing the name. Looking somewhat embarrassed, Skip said, "I wasn't going to include that particular ship, but it is the biggest one in its class on the market at the current time. You could haul over two hundred passengers in it." "That's what we need. So why weren't you going to show it to me?" Betsy asked. Looking rather embarrassed, Skip said, "That particular ship is going to need a lot of interior work done on it. It's a disgrace to the nautical world." "Why?" "As the name suggests, the previous owner was into pornography – big time. To be quite honest, it looks like a floating bordello envisioned by Caligula. However, the price is really good." Betsy said, "The people we're picking up with it won't be all that particular about their surroundings. It will look like heaven after the hell they've been through." Penny realized why she was called to be there. The conversation outside about buying a boat had not suggested that it would be ship capable of carrying that many people. She had still been thinking about the recreational boats that had been on display outside. She looked over at Betsy and asked, "Is this for our men and women overseas?" "Not just ours. Someone is going to be busy shuttling people all over the world for the next few months," Betsy said. "In that case, I think our passengers would enjoy the decor tremendously," Penny said with a grin. "It's pretty explicit. There are photographs and paintings on the wall that would make a gynecologist blush. Just about everything that can be turned into a phallic symbol has been turned into one," Skip said. "That's not a problem," Betsy said. "If you say so," Skip said doubtfully. Betsy asked, "Where is it?" "It's in Thailand," Skip answered. Knowing the reputation that Thailand had among soldiers, Penny said, "That figures." Betsy asked, "How is it, mechanically?" "It's in excellent condition." Betsy leaned across the desk and looked Skip straight in the eye. In a chilling voice that contained a hint of a threat, she again asked, "How is it, mechanically? I need the full truth." Skip, shocked at the sudden intensity of his client, said, "Honestly. It's in excellent condition, mechanically. It had just been refitted with a new fusion power plant, motor, and electronics." "Why is it for sale?" Penny asked. "The owner was killed while playing with a she-male. His kids took one look at the ship and, totally disgusted by what they saw, gave orders to sell it." "So, Daddy was one kinky bastard, huh?" "You might say that," Skip said. Staring at the torque on Betsy's arm, Penny said, "It's kind of interesting that he was with a hermaphrodite when he died. It makes you wonder, doesn't it?" "That's true," Betsy said, also thinking about the Two-Sided One. Betsy pulled out her debit card from her purse. She handed it to Skip while saying, "I'll take it." "Don't you want to see it?" Skip asked. "There's not enough time. Penny will be there tomorrow morning to pick it up. She'll be the registered owner," Betsy said. "You're serious," Skip said looking at Betsy as if she was from another planet. A purchase of this size usually required that a person physically inspect the ship. She was going to be spending nearly two million dollars on it and then probably another million redoing the interior. He knew the ship was worth a lot more than that, but they didn't. "Dead serious," Betsy said. "Fill out the paperwork with Penny Vinter as the owner." Skip picked up the phone and made a call. He informed the person on the other end to type up the paperwork necessary to transfer ownership of the Floating Phallus over to Penny Vinter. Once that was done, he turned back to face the two women. He asked, "Is there anything else I can do for you?" "Do you have a cheap freighter?" Betsy asked. "Some guy in Arizona bought up just about everything we had in stock." "Who in Arizona?" Betsy asked. Skip said, "Some guy by the name of Ed Biggers." "That's my father," Betsy said surprised to learn that her father had been buying up boats. "I know," Skip said with a smile. "He can afford it better than I can," Betsy said. She knew that William was using all of the family resources during this time of crisis and not just hers. Still, the idea that her father who was a desert rat owned a fleet of ships was rather surprising. She figured that the responsibilities should have been reversed with her living on an island in the middle of the Pacific. "The only thing I've got left that can make the trip from the island to the mainland is a garbage scow," Skip said. "A garbage scow?" Betsy asked. "Yes." "How much," Betsy said. "It's damned near free," Skip said. "How much?" "A hundred thousand," Skip said. "Where is it?" "Here on the island," Skip answered. After doing the mental calculations in her head concerning her current cash situation, she decided that she had just enough money to cover everything. The low price on the Floating Phallus had made it possible. She even had a little left over that she would be able to use to purchase boat parts to assure that her fleet would remain operational over the next few years. "I'll take it," Betsy said "Okay," Skip said. "I assume that you want it today." "Of course," Betsy said. He turned and made another call. This one lasted a little longer than the previous call. Skip said, "It is going to be a while before they have your paperwork together. They've got to finish the paperwork on the Floating Phallus, first." "No problem," Betsy said. "You're going to be getting a pretty good commission today." "Yes," Skip said. Betsy said, "Spend it all tomorrow." Skip laughed at the suggestion thinking it was a joke. The usual advice was not to spend it all in one place. He said, "I'm pretty conservative with my money." "I'm serious. Spend it all tomorrow," Betsy said. The laughter died on Skip's lips. He looked at Betsy and then over at Penny. He noticed the medallion around her neck. Penny said, "Take her advice. Spend it all tomorrow, because after tomorrow, your money won't be any good." "You can't be serious," Skip said although he could tell that they were serious. Penny leaned forward and said, "The reason we're buying that porno palace is to have something to use in evacuating our troops stationed overseas in war zones. That's my service to the Gods and Goddesses." Betsy said, "Close out your bank accounts. Grab some cash and spend the rest on things of real value." "Like what?" "Food, boat parts, and maybe even a boat," Betsy said. "Don't forget to buy some guns." "You can't be serious," Skip said. "If you don't act tomorrow, you'll regret it for the rest of your life," Penny said. It took almost three hours to conclude their business. Betsy walked out of the place owning a garbage scow. Penny walked out owning a very large yacht filled with one of the largest collections of pornography in the world. Skip was left in his office debating over whether or not he'd do as Betsy suggested. He picked up his phone and made a call to a friend of his on the island. His friend was a very wealthy man. Outside, Betsy asked, "Do you need any help getting to Thailand?" "I'll get a plane from the Navy to take me there. I'll see a couple of Captains about lining up some additional transport. You're boat won't be enough, but it'll help," Penny said. "So what will you do?" Betsy asked. "I'm going to take over an island as a place to hold folks until I can get sufficient transport. I'm pretty sure that I'll be able to pick up some folks in Thailand who will help build a small city while evacuating everyone," Penny said. "Do you need anything from me?" Betsy asked. Penny shook her head while thinking about it. She did have some resources that might survive even a total fall of the government. There were military posts around the world that would support her in saving their people. Penny answered, "No. I think the yacht is all I need from you." Betsy said, "I have some gold." "I've got stashes of gold all over the world," Penny said. Wondering if it would be the last time she would see the other woman, Betsy said, "If there's anything I can do to help you, let me know." The image of her holding a pickup stick while William maneuvered another one out of the pile flashed through her mind. She recalled his words, 'Sometimes a special tool is required that, merely by its presence, allows other tools to function.' Her function became clear to her. With her torque turning warm, she shouted, "I'm a catalyst!" "What?" "I'm a catalyst. I don't participate in the reaction, but it won't take place without my presence. Don't you see, I'm a catalyst." "What are you talking about?" Penny asked. "My service to the Gods and Goddesses," Betsy answered. "The Druids are forces of change. They do things to directly affect events. The Bards shape the political environment by swaying public opinion. I'm a catalyst. I participate in the reaction, but I'm not really part of it." "Interesting," Penny said. Betsy grinned. "I'm off to see the Governor." "Why her?" "She's in charge of the National Guard," Betsy answered. "What do you need the National Guard for?" "To save the university," Betsy answered. "After the fall, it will be the most valuable institution on the island." "Maybe I should go with you," Penny said. "No. You need to get to Thailand," Betsy said. "You're right," Penny said when her medallion began to feel warm. Betsy got into her car and headed towards the governor's office. ------- In the workroom of his home, William paused in eating his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, made with his favorite purple jelly. He looked over at Lucy and said, "Betsy has discovered her purpose." "What is it?" Lucy asked She looked up from her monitor. She was busy trying to make sense of the tangled futures being predicted by William's programs. "She's a catalyst," William answered. "Interesting," Lucy said. "So what does she do?" "She makes things happen," William said. "Like what?" William said, "Her actions over the next forty-eight hours will set the time of failure for the largest bank in the world. Already, three very rich men are pulling out money from banks. The rumor that banks are going to fail will soon reach the executives of the American Bank and that will force them to move up the time at which they file for bankruptcy." Lucy, still examining the tangled mess of possible futures predicted by William's programs, had wondered how the best possible future would be selected. She knew what was coming and knew that Betsy wouldn't be too pleased to know that she had brought it about. "Does she know that?" Lucy asked. "No, and if I have my way, she'll never know it," William said. ------- The quote about 'Denial ain't just a river in Egypt.' is attributed by a number of people to Mark Twain. Unfortunately, there is no real proof that he actually said or wrote it. I've propagated that attribution here because ... well ... just because. It does sound like something he'd say. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 2 Colonel Stewart watched the young woman running across the top of the four story building. She was headed across the building he was facing. He gasped when she suddenly changed directions and jumped off the building. Unable to believe what he was seeing, his jaw dropped when she grabbed the flag pole in mid-flight and then slid to the ground. Seconds later, she was headed in his direction. Major Morgan said, "Did you see that?" "Yes." Both men watched her approach them. She slowed down. After making a very obvious point of inspecting their insignia, she finally turned to Colonel Stewart. "Hello, I'm Betsy." "I'm Colonel Stewart." "Nice to meet you." "That was a rather spectacular entrance," Colonel Stewart said pointing over to the flag pole. "Oh, that. That was nothing," Betsy said. "I'm assuming you came here to see me," Colonel Stewart said. Betsy replied, "How's the exercise going?" "Pretty good, outside of one young woman who managed to get on campus without going through a checkpoint," Colonel Stewart answered rather pointedly. "Sorry about that. The line was rather long and I really needed to talk to you," Betsy said. "About?" "I'm kind of a messenger from the Governor." "She doesn't need a messenger. We have direct communications with her office," Major Morgan said. Betsy looked at him like he was stupid and said, "There are some things that you don't say where others can hear." "Like what?" Colonel Stewart asked. "Like this isn't an exercise. This is the real thing," Betsy answered smiling at the two men. Colonel Stewart laughed. "That's funny." Betsy handed him a piece of paper and said, "Here are your orders. They're signed by the Governor herself." Wondering who put her up to this, Colonel Stewart took the piece of paper from Betsy. He opened it up. It looked like the real thing from the letterhead of the governor's office to the signature at the bottom. He read read the parts in between. He turned completely pale by the end of the message. Betsy said, "In the building behind you is a television in the lobby. I suggest we go over there and watch it for a few minutes. It'll explain everything in your orders." "Let's go." Major Morgan asked, "What is it?" "We're being issued live ammo. It'll be here in ten minutes," Colonel Stewart answered. "Get over to the main gate to accept delivery of it." "Live ammo?" "Yes." "Shit." Inside the building, Colonel Stewart watched the news on the television. Initially, the news was like any other news day. There were discussions about the tensions between the two political parties, a comment or two about misbehaving celebrities, and then the commercials came on. Colonel Stewart kept glancing at Betsy wondering if his orders were a fraud. If so, he was going to bury her in the deepest darkest prison he could find. Nearly at the end of his patience, he was surprised when the news channel interrupted the commercial. Television stations never interrupted commercials. Horrified, he listened to a flustered reporter announce that the American Bank had just filed bankruptcy in Federal Court. "That's my bank," he said. "It's not a bank anymore," Betsy replied. "My money," he said still stunned by what he had heard. Betsy said, "It's gone." "God Damn It!" Betsy said, "In less than an hour, people are going to discover that they are broke. Things are going to get real bad around here. Your orders are to protect the university at all costs even if it means firing upon protesters." "They're civilians." "I know that," Betsy said. She gestured around the building and said, "If you don't protect the university, the island will sink into a dark age so black that you'd be better off killing your children than allowing them to face that kind of future." "You can't be serious." Betsy said, "We're stuck on an island in the middle of the ocean with a population that's too large for the natural environment to feed. People are going to panic. They are going to be destructive. Right now, the keys to surviving this catastrophe are in the minds of the faculty and graduate students. If the university is lost, all knowledge will be lost within a generation. The university must be protected." "I get the point," Colonel Stewart said. "You might have your men call their families to come here. I'm sure that everyone will be happy to know that their family is safe. Having their families here will provide a bit of motivation for your men to defend the campus. "That's a damned good idea." Betsy said, "There are plenty of empty dorm rooms available. There's enough food on campus for you to hold out for ten days or so. A boat will be here in ten days loaded with fish. I suggest that you figure out how you're going to get there to re-provision your people." "I can do that, but how do you know that others won't get to it before us?" "The fishing boat will be waiting, offshore, for a signal from you. Fire a flare to let the Captain know that you've got control of the dock," Betsy said. "Okay," Colonel Stewart said. "I better get busy issuing orders." "That would be a good idea," Betsy said following him out of the building. He paused to look around. One could almost see the burden of command settle on his shoulders when he realized what he was being asked to do. He stood up straighter, and his face turned grim. "Where will you be?" "I'll be busy getting others ready for what is coming." "Good luck," Colonel Stewart said. Betsy took off at a run. In seconds, she was atop a building and cutting across campus. He watched her leave. Turning, he spotted a private. Snapping his fingers, he said, "Private. I need you to find every officer above the rank of Lieutenant and get them over here." "I'll get on the radio." "No. Run and fetch them," Colonel Stewart said knowing there were somethings you didn't say where others could hear it. It didn't take Betsy long to reach the beach. She went over to a palm tree and started digging in the sand. There were tourists relaxing in the sun working on their tans happily unaware that their world was about to change. Few of them noticed Betsy pull up a briefcase that she had buried there the previous night. She paused to look around, knowing that it was the calm before the storm. She figured that the news about the bank closing would soon reach the vacationers. She was in a race against time now. Betsy hit the first large hotel. Already there was a sense of panic in the air. Guests who were trying to check out were discovering that their credit cards were no longer being honored. The hotel management team was trying to keep things under control, but was losing the battle, quickly. They had their own concerns. Betsy spotted a manager heading towards the checkout counter. She intercepted him before he could reach it. Without being too gentle about it, she turned him around, and led him back into his office. He shouted, "Let me go." "You are about to have this whole place blow up in your face," Betsy said before releasing him. "We've got the beginnings of a riot out there," he said. Betsy opened the briefcase and pulled out a paper. She shoved it at him and said, "Tell everyone that their room is theirs for the next week. In three days, ships will be arriving in port that will take them back to the mainland." "How do you know that?" "The Fusion Foundation booked three Alaskan Cruise ships to come here." "The Fusion Foundation?" the manager asked surprised to learn that they were already active. "Yes. That should calm things down." "It should. What about the room charges?" Betsy said, "Don't worry about them. Get everyone back in their rooms. Tell them that their rooms are comped. Let them know that maid service will be limited to washing sheets. Guests will be responsible for cleaning their own rooms." "You expect me to let them stay for free?" "It's either that, or watch your hotel burn down by sunset, tonight. Either way, you're not collecting another night of room charges from tourists." "I guess I can comp their rooms," the manager said. Betsy said, "Good. All of the details you'll need to know are on that sheet, including a location where there's a cache of food that you can use to feed your guests, and pay whatever staff remains in service. I've got a hundred hotels to hit in the next few hours." "I hope you're not too late getting to them." "Please get someone to make calls to the other hotels and let them know that things are being taken care of." "I'll get some people on that right away." Betsy said, "Good. I've got to run." The manager walked out into the lobby and shouted, "All hotel charges have been dropped. You are invited to stay in your rooms for the next few days, free of charge until we know the extent of the financial crisis. There will be food and lodging provided for you. You will not be stranded here on the island. I have just learned that cruise ships provided by the Fusion Foundation are on their way to the island to provide transportation back to the mainland." Betsy smiled and headed to the taxi stand. There were ten taxis waiting in line. It was that time of day when a lot of people were headed to the airport. Normally there would have been more cars there, but the news over the radio had sent a number of them home. Once there, she shouted, "I need every taxi driver over here right now! I've an announcement to make that concerns all of you." The drivers got out and crowded around her. Betsy pulled out a stack of manilla envelops. She said, "As of this moment, cash is king. Banks are closing, the credit card machines are turned off, and people are worried. I'm sure that all of you are worried. Well, I've got an errand for you to run and will pay cash for you to do it." Most of the drivers nodded their heads particularly every time she mentioned cash. Two of the drivers went back to their taxis and took off. The rest stayed to hear what Betsy had to say. "I've got an envelope for each one of you. Inside each envelop is a list of five hotels. I need you to visit each hotel on that list and drop off a copy of the instructions for hotel owners and managers. You may have to get a little forceful to get access to the manager, but they'll appreciate it." "You were talking about money," one of the drivers said. "I've got a hundred dollar bill for each of you for when you go and an additional four hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills that I'll give you when you get back," Betsy said. "You're paying us five hundred dollars to stop by five hotels?" "That's right," Betsy said holding out the envelopes. The men grabbed them. One asked, "Where's the hundred dollar bill?" "Inside the envelope," Betsy answered. The drivers tore open the envelopes. The pleased looks on their faces gave silent testimony that they had found the hundred dollar bill. Betsy said, "I'll be waiting for you in the parking lot of the post office that's just down the street." The drivers took off. Betsy headed to the next hotel down the beach to repeat what she had done there. She knew that the last few hotels would probably be in trouble, but there was only one of her and way too many hotels. An hour later, Betsy was seated in a beach chair in the parking lot of the post office waiting for the taxi drivers to return from their errands. One of the taxis pulled into the parking lot. The driver got out and approached Betsy. "Where's my money?" Betsy said, "I'd pay you except you couldn't have gone to all of the hotels on your list. I timed all of the routes last week. You shouldn't be back for another half hour at the earliest." "I'll tell you what. How about you hand over all of the money," the man said pulling out a knife. "How about I kick your ass all over the island and hang your naked body off the palm tree over there as an example for the next guy who thinks he can rob me?" Betsy asked with a smile. The man stepped forward three steps and then flew backwards five steps. Betsy was all over him like fleas on a mangy mutt. The next thing he knew, he was hanging upside down from a palm tree by a rope tied around his ankles. He had been spared the indignity of being naked although he was stripped down to his pair of tighty-whities. He had shouted at her until she stuffed one of his own socks into his mouth. Betsy returned to her chair to wait for the next driver. Five minutes later another taxi drove into the parking lot. The driver got out. He noticed the other driver hanging upside down on the palm tree behind Betsy. "What happened to him?" "He first tried to convince me that he had run his route, and objected when I told him that that was impossible. He then tried to rob me, so I decided that a little vigilante justice was in order. The next guy who tries that will hang by the neck rather than the feet," Betsy said. "Oh," the driver said. He frowned and looked around. He said, "I was just driving past on my way to the next place on my list. I spotted him hanging there and I was curious. So I ... uh ... stopped by to find out what had happened." Betsy said, "You must not have chosen a very good route if you were driving by at this time." "I guess I kinda got confused," the man said. Betsy said, "I guess you better get on with it." "I'll be back in a while," the driver said. It was forty minutes before the next driver showed up. He parked his taxi and walked over to Betsy. She recognized him as one of the drivers from the first hotel. He paused to look at the man hanging from the palm tree. "What happened to him?" "He first tried to convince me that he had run his route and objected when I told him that that was impossible. He then tried to rob me, so I decided that a little vigilante justice was in order. The next guy hangs by the neck rather than the feet," Betsy said. "I don't blame you a bit," the driver said. "How was it?" "I almost couldn't get in to see the managers of the last two places on the list. Those places were insane. People were ready to kill and anyone who looked like they were trying to cut in line were in serious trouble." "How'd you get in to see the managers?" "Fortunately, they were expecting me. Apparently someone had called ahead, and let them know I was coming. I was met at the door and taken in through a back way, to the managers office." "Would you mind giving me your list?" "Here it is," the driver said. Handing over the money she had promised, Betsy said, "That's great. Take this and take care of your family." "Thanks, but I don't have a family," the driver said. "Then now is a good time to adopt a couple strays," Betsy said. "There's security in numbers." "Good idea," the driver said. The news had already broadcast reports of a couple riots at grocery stores. He knew a couple of single women who were probably scared out of their minds, about now. He decided that he'd swing by their places and offer a little security. He was sure that a couple of his friends would probably join up with him. He said, "That's a real good idea." "Thanks," Betsy said. "You better head out." "What about you?" "I'll be fine," Betsy said. "Are you sure?" "Very sure," Betsy said. Looking over at the guy dangling from the palm tree, the driver smiled and said, "You might be right, at that." For the next two hours, taxis pulled into the parking lot. The drivers reported on what they had found. They left four hundred dollars richer, along with ideas on what they could do, to better survive the next few days. More than one had decided to wait out the storm on their fishing boats. A mile offshore was thought to be safe enough. Betsy was waiting for the last two drivers to show up. She was going to give them another half an hour to show up, before leaving. A woman walked over to her. Looking around nervously, she said, "I saw you giving all of those guys money. Is there anything I can do to earn some of it?" "Where do you live?" "I live about three miles from here," the woman answered. "I could use a place to stay, tonight. Would you accept a visitor for the evening? I'm not much trouble," Betsy said. "Actually, I'd kind of appreciate the company. I live alone," the woman said. "I'm Betsy. "I'm Sarah." "Do you see those bushes over there?" Betsy asked. "Yes." "There's a bag of groceries hidden in those bushes. Why don't you take it and go home to fix some dinner? Fix enough for yourself and three others. I'll be along in about an hour or so," Betsy said. "Three others?" "Don't worry, I'll be alone. It's just that I eat a lot," Betsy said. "Okay," the woman said doubtfully. "I have a very high metabolism," Betsy said. "Okay." "I'll need your address," Betsy said. The woman gave Betsy the address of an apartment. She then fetched the bag of groceries and headed home in her car. To be honest, she appreciated the bag of groceries more than she would have liked the money. Betsy paid off the last two drivers. The very last one was the driver who had stopped by earlier. After having come to the conclusion that she had the means to verify if he had actually gone to all of the places on his list, he had gone to the last three places. "I'm back," he said. "How was it out there?" "The last three places were a waste of time. They already had copies of what I handed them." "The fax machine network was busy today. You aren't the first one who told me that," Betsy said. "Why did you send us?" the drive asked. Betsy answered, "I didn't know just what would happen. Telephones and internet could have gone down at any time. I figured it was better to be safe than sorry." "I didn't think about that," the driver said. "I don't think many people have had a chance to come to grips with what happened today," Betsy said. "Just how bad is it going to be?" Betsy said, "That's hard to say. Imagine the worst, expect even worse than that, and be happy if your expectations aren't met." "That doesn't sound good." "It's not." "Are you going to be okay?" "I'll be fine," Betsy said. "What about him?" "I'll cut him loose and then head out of here," Betsy answered. "Do you need a ride?" "No, I could use some exercise." "Take care of yourself." "You, too." Betsy waited for him to leave. She went over and cut the guy down from the tree using the knife he had used to attack her. He laid on the ground staring up at her wondering if she was going to use the knife to slit his throat. She cut the rope that had bound his wrists behind his back. She then threw the knife at a second palm tree. With a solid thunk, the knife was buried halfway to the hilt, with the handle vibrating wickedly. She said, "You were lucky. People are going to get real protective of what they own. Next time you pull something like that, you won't survive." He was about to respond, but she was already gone. He would have tried to go after her, but his legs felt like rubber. He waited for the feeling to return to his feet before attempting to make it over to his taxi. It took Betsy a little time to find the address Sarah had given her. She went up and knocked on the door of the apartment. After a few moments, Sarah opened the door and said, "Come in." "Nice place," Betsy said upon entering. "Thanks. It's not much, but it's all I've got," Sarah said. Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized that they were the absolute truth. Everything she had was in her apartment. The money in the bank was gone. Her job as a secretary was probably gone. She was alone. "Hey, don't look so sad. It's not that bad," Betsy said. "I'm alone," Sarah said. Betsy said, "You and everyone else in this apartment complex. If you think about it, maybe you aren't as alone as you think." "What do you mean?" "You've got a bunch of neighbors who are all in the same situation. There's safety in numbers," Betsy said. "What about the rent?" "Does the owner live here or does a manager?" Betsy asked. "A manager." "Well, I bet he won't care if the rent isn't paid. He's in the same situation you are," Betsy said. "But..." "Think about it," Betsy said. "Dinner is ready." "Good. I'm hungry," Betsy said. Sarah watched Betsy put away enough food for three people. It was kind of shocking to see. "How was it that you happened to have a bag of groceries handy?" Betsy answered, "I've got bags of groceries stashed all over the city. I figure that a bag of groceries is more valuable that a pile of cash." "You're probably right," Sarah said. "We've gotten used to electronic banking. It's great until the banks disappear," Betsy said. Sarah said, "American Bank, Chance Bank and Old West Bank all filed bankruptcy today. All of the electronic banking systems have been shut off. That means no credit cards, no debit cards, and no checks. There isn't a bank open anywhere to get cash. "The stock market had to shut down at 10:30. With no way to move money around, there was no way to buy or sell stocks. Imagine that. All of that wealth out there and no one can touch it. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I mean, all of the money I had was in the bank. I went through every pocket, purse, and drawer in the house trying to come up with cash. I was shocked by how little I found." Betsy said, "Just think about it this way. You've probably got as much cash on hand as some of the richest people on the island. As of about ten o'clock this morning, you're as wealthy as everyone else." "That's kind of scary," Sarah said. "I imagine it is, but people are resourceful. They'll figure out a way to get around using money," Betsy said. "I've got some gold and silver jewelry." "That's a start," Betsy said. "I figure that the big item of exchange for the next few days will be food." "I agree." "Imagine paying your bills with fish," Betsy said. "I don't fish," Sarah said. "You've got a little space around the apartment complex where you could plant a garden." "You mean, I have to become a farmer." "It's only a little space," Betsy said. "I don't have any seeds." "It's funny you should mention that. There's a whole bag of beans in that sack of groceries." "So?" "Well, beans are seeds," Betsy said. "I didn't think of that," Sarah said. Betsy said, "I did. That's why I put a bag of beans in each cache of food. Did you notice the bag of pop corn?" "Yes." "That's a seed, too." "Pop corn?" "Hey, you can grind it to make corn flour, roast it as corn on the cob, pop it, or add some to soups and stews. It may not be sweet corn, but it is a kind of corn and that's a major staple of life." "I didn't think of that." Betsy said, "I had to pay a premium for natural organic pop corn because it was likely the regular stuff was a hybrid that wouldn't germinate. You wouldn't believe how hard it was to find things in the grocery store that could produce the next generation of food." "It's not the kind of thing one normally worries about," Sarah said. "I know. The thing is, even while you're busy surviving today, you have to plan for the future." Sarah stirred her food with a fork. She shook her head in disgust and then said, "I thought I was planning for the future. I was saving money in the bank and into a retirement account. I had even paid off all of my credit cards and gotten my credit score to a point where I could swing a home loan one day. "That's all gone, now. I'm not even sure how it happened. I mean, I heard the explanation on the news, but I don't understand it." "What did they say on the news?" Betsy asked. She had been so busy that she hadn't had a chance to listen to what the news was saying about the crisis. To be quite honest, she wondered how much longer the news would be broadcast. People were going to stop showing up for work once they realized there was no way they could get paid. Sarah answered, "The reporter said the American Bank did not have enough assets on hand to backup any additional credit card purchases. They didn't have enough assets to borrow the money necessary to pay the merchants who sold products to customers who had used their credit cards. "Rather than blaming the bank, they said that with a lot of Americans paying off their credit cards rather than just paying the minimum, the percentage of bad debt rose to unmaintainable levels. In short, it was people who were good credits risks and paid off their debts that caused the bank to lose money. Can you believe that?" "Yes. I can believe that they'd blame people who did the right thing. It's a whole lot easier than blaming the bad guys, particularly when you're one of the bad guys," Betsy said. Sarah said, "This morning, when the bank declared bankruptcy, they put a freeze on all credit card transactions. That caused the credit card derivatives market to collapse. The collapse of the credit card derivatives market was responsible for other banks failing." Betsy said, "That's how I figured it would happen." Sarah said, "I never heard of a credit card derivative before this morning." "You and most people," Betsy said. "How can you plan for the future when something you've never heard of steals it from you?" Betsy said, "They say that ignorance is bliss; but the unfortunate fact of the matter, is that it can also kill you." "I agree," Sarah said with a sigh. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 3 The modern person, who has lived a significant percentage of their life in a digital economy, can not imagine what life would be like without checks, credit cards, debit cards, and online banking. Mortgages, rent, utilities, and insurance are paid with check or by electronic transfer. Large purchases and consumer goods are paid with credit cards, or checks. Plastic is not reserved only for big items. People will whip out a credit or debit card to pay for a five dollar lunch, or a cup of coffee at a convenience store. The result of the digital economy is that cash is no longer essential. There are a lot of people who carry ten dollars or less, refilling empty wallets with cash withdrawals while making debit card purchases. There were few people who carried a hundred dollars or more in their wallet. Almost no one could put their hands on a thousand dollars, without visiting a bank to withdraw it. There were still cash only businesses. Prostitution and drug dealing still relied upon the anonymity that cash allowed. Street vendors usually took cash although modern technology had made it possible for them to deal with plastic. There were second economy folks who provided services on a cash only basis. The point is that while cash might be king, the kingdom was shrinking and on the verge of disappearing. Few people missed using cash. In some cases, having to pay cash was an imposition and met with dismay and anger: 'What do you mean, you won't take plastic?' Technologies were emerging that even allowed individuals to pay back loans from friends without having to exchange cash. The digital economy had expanded from the sole domain of businesses. When the American Bank walked into the courtroom to file bankruptcy, it turned off all of the electronic banking systems and shut the doors on all of its bank branches. Suddenly, nearly a third of the credit cards, debit cards, checking accounts, savings accounts, and sources of cash, disappeared. People were left holding little pieces of plastic that could be used to scrap some gunk off of something flat, but that was about the whole value the cards now had. People attempting to use a credit card or debit card backed by the American Bank, at cash registers all over the world, were informed that their card was declined. Most were able to pull out a second or third credit card backed by a different bank to complete their transaction. Not everyone was able to salvage the situation with a second or third credit card. Customers were left standing there wondering why their debit card for a bank account that had several thousand dollars in it, was rejected over a small purchase. It didn't make sense. Anyone who has experienced it, knows that having a credit card rejected is an embarrassing situation. People react to embarrassment in a number of ways. Some turn red and quiet. Others turn red and vocal in anger. There were shouting matches in a lot of businesses when card after card was rejected. In a few cases, clerks were assaulted and the police were called. It didn't take long for the news media to discover what was happening. It was minutes behind the social networks, which spread the news like wildfire. Bad news travels fast! People immediately headed to their bank or ATM to withdraw as much cash as possible. They arrived to find lines of hundreds of scared people frantically trying to salvage something of their wealth. Not everyone was willing to join the end of the line and fights broke out. Police were again called. It didn't take long for the masses to drain the cash from every ATM and bank branch in the country. In a world not used to using cash, the sudden demand overwhelmed any and all cash reserves. Banks, in an action not taken since the great depression, closed their doors. The ATM network was shut down. The automated systems started rejecting purchases made with credit cards and debit cards. It took about three hours to drain the cash out of the entire banking system. Once the explosive drain on assets ended, bankers looked at their balance sheets and saw that they were out of business. They joined the lines to file bankruptcy. By the time the day ended, there wasn't a single solvent bank in the country. On Wall Street a different kind of panic was taking place. Orders were being taken and then payments rejected. There was no way to complete any transactions regardless of the price offered for stocks. Wall Street firms had abandoned cash decades ago. An individual with a briefcase filled with hundred dollar bills or gold bullion wouldn't have been able to purchase a single share of stock. The ability to purchase stocks stopped, but the requests to sell increased. Stock prices plummeted, automated routines kicked in, and the market was closed. Everyone in the industry knew that it wasn't a record stock price drop, but a drop that killed the entire stock market. Executives of major corporations were stunned. That morning, everything was okay. That evening, all corporate bank accounts were frozen, there was no place to turn to for a loan, their stocks were worthless, and employees were frantically trying to find out how they were going to get paid. The entire infrastructure on which corporations were built had turned to dust over the course of five hours. Not one executive of a fortune 500 company had an answer. Commerce at a global level was impossible without digital financial transactions. Executives walked away from work never expecting to return. The glory days of international corporate giants was over and everyone knew it. The executives were not only hit with the stress that came from their businesses failing, but their own personal financial situation was ruined as well. Their investments in stocks were worthless. Their personal bank accounts were frozen or gone. The janitor sweeping the floor in the lobby probably had more cash in his wallet, than any of the executives. The slowest to react to the crisis was the government. On hearing the news, congressmen scheduled meetings to determine what could be done and investigations to discover what happened. It was time for another witch hunt, and 'cover your ass' politics. Of course, it would take a couple of days before they could hold one of those meetings or start an investigation. The President of the United States scheduled a news release for that evening, hoping to calm things down. It was too late and there wasn't much he could say except for simple platitudes that all would be better soon since this was a great country. His speech, watched by nearly every adult in the country, did little to nothing to convince a terrified country that tomorrow would be a better day. The fact of the matter was, that short of printing million dollar bills, there was nothing that could be done to bail out the banks. The Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, FDIC, which was supposed to guarantee moneys on deposit in banks, was unable to cover the massive liability that had suddenly manifested itself. At best, it would be able to pay off a couple cents on every hundred dollars lost. The weakness of the government was truly exposed when people realized there would be no social security checks issued. Government employees wouldn't get checks. Even if the government did send out checks, there wasn't a bank at which to cash them. The government had no way to pay its bills. People reacted in a variety of ways to the closing of the banks, but there were six basic responses that were the most common. There was denial, shock, depression, survival, anticipation, and abandonment. The proportions of people who responded in one way over another differed across the country, economic class, and education. One response was to deny that it really meant anything and that tomorrow business would be back to usual. Justifying and supporting the denial were pundits talking on the radio and television about free markets and how capitalism would rise again. It was vacuous talk by so-called experts speculating about something that had never occurred before. In short, they were guessing. As if this day hadn't been anything special, there were families who sat at home around the dinner table discussing what they might do over the next few days. The current crisis was expected to run its course, the world would sort itself out, and then return to normal. There were some who sat in front of the television unwilling to miss their favorite television show treating it as just a normal night. Another response was just to go into shock. It was an understandable reaction. One morning everything was normal, and then it wasn't. They had lost everything, and nothing made sense. The mind, rather than trying to figure out what was happening, chose the lazy solution of just shutting down for a while. People sat numbly wondering what was going to happen to them. They looked around for someone to tell them what to do, but no one was there. They sat where they were, just waiting for something. They didn't know what they were waiting for, but they were sure they'd recognize it when they saw it. Unfortunately, there was no Messiah who was going to stroll through and bestow upon them the enlightenment that they needed. Others were overwhelmed with a sense of hopelessness and despair. They fell into a deep depression that sapped the strength from them. The elderly, the infirm, and the emotionally weak were most susceptible to this reaction. What could they do now that all they had worked for was gone? They were too old, tired, or weak to rebuild a life. Why go on? It was hopeless. In some cases, it was the degree of loss that was important. Movers and shakers who had once commanded billions, or at least significant fractions of billions, had lost everything. During the early days of the Great Depression, it was the formerly rich who had reacted by jumping from buildings. Those overwhelmed by hopelessness and despair was the group who chose suicide as a means of escaping reality. If suicide wasn't an option, many pursued forms of behavior that were self-destructive, often to the same end: death. Self medication for depression using alcohol and drugs was widespread. Some sat and cried. Others wandered around as if waiting for someone to put them out of their misery. Another group reacted by taking stock of what they had and what they needed in order to survive. They organized to protect what they had, acquire what was necessary, and plan for the future. Although taken by surprise, they weren't going to let the current situation overwhelm them. These were fighters who saw the situation as a challenge to overcome. Not all of them saw a need to obey the law. Survival required guns, food, clothes, and a defensible shelter. Locked doors intended to keep them from gaining any one of the essentials did not remain locked for long. Although violence may have resulted from their actions, they weren't the ones who would bring down civilization if left unchecked. A response which not quite so widespread was that by individuals who had been planning for such an event and already had their survival gear together. They started executing the plans they had made for this kind of situation. Many just hunkered down in the their bunkers to wait out the chaos that was sure to follow. Others grabbed their go bags and went. After years of being labeled as paranoid crackpots, the survivalists were in their element. Survivalists were not the only ones who were ready. There were religious groups that had also been prepared for the end of times. This might not have been the end of times, but their preparations were of value. They pulled together in their churches and temples to pray. The final response was not to deny what had happened or to react with hopelessness, but to embrace the collapse as an opportunity to run wild. Since civilization had collapsed there was no longer a need to act civilized. Might made right. Women were grabbed off the streets and out of their homes to be raped by men who acted like rabid animals. Stores were raided and anything of any value was removed. There were fights, buildings burned, people killed, and chaos reigned. There were people who felt that their lives had been made miserable by impersonal corporations and an evil government who created laws intended to turn people into slaves. They viewed their violence as a form of a slave revolt. They were out to destroy the symbols of their enslavement. Business offices burned. Wall Street burned. Government buildings were left smoking ruins. Almost without exception, there was an undercurrent of fear. The rules of the game had changed and everyone knew it. What no one knew was what new rules would emerge. The world teetered on the edge of barbarism. By the time the sun set, the country was in turmoil; but 'under the cover of darkness, ' things come to a rolling boil. The brutality and violence exhibited in some areas was unimaginable by civilized law abiding citizens. There were riots in the street, the sky was lit by the fires below, and people were lying on the ground dead and dying. Yet in each major city, there were handfuls of individuals who stood against the beasts and the monsters to protect the weak. Druids, wearing green, red, or black robes, stood in front of angry mobs presenting an immoveable barrier. They were backed by a handful of young men and women who had been recruited and trained for just this situation. They stood firm and lives were saved. The collapse of the digital economy was not limited to the United States. It spread across the world moving at the speed of sunrise – with the beginning of the business day the economic infrastructure was destroyed. Within twenty-four hours, there wasn't a bank left solvent in the entire world. The effect of the economic collapse was not uniform. Some countries suffered more than others. The hardest hit countries were the so-called developed countries of Europe and a handful of countries, such as Japan, in the Far East, although none of them suffered as greatly as the United States. These countries supported a population that had embraced the digital economy. As a result of differences among cultures and the degree to which the population had embraced the digital economy, some populations responded with greater violence than others. The citizens of the so-called developing countries of South America, Africa, and the Far East were almost untouched by the collapse of the digital economy. These countries were predominately cash only societies. Very few people used plastic to pay for manufactured consumer goods. Not fully trusting banks, they squirreled their savings away in hidden places within their homes. The oldest citizens trusted banks the least and were left with the majority of their assets intact. It was the young who suffered most, but they had the greater resiliency. There were still a lot of places in the world where barter remained a way of life. People did not rely to any great extent upon a currency backed by a government. Governments were often fleeting institutions. The fact of the matter was that most of the world's population had not joined the digital economy. While the common person may have been divorced from the digital economy, the same could not be said of their governments. Governments fell around the world leaving a power vacuum. Nature and politics abhor a vacuum. Ruthless individuals moved in to take over, sometimes violently. When all was said and done, there wasn't a country in the world that hadn't been affected by the collapse. On the bright side, the world didn't fall into barbarism. ------- Betsy was perched atop a building watching the people who had gathered in the parking lot. They were watching their neighborhood burn to the ground. An hour earlier, a different group of people had marched through the neighborhood looting homes and burning them. The fire had spread out of control and it wasn't long before several blocks had been consumed in flames. The people below were justifiably upset. Those were their homes and now they were homeless, and unemployed. There was nothing and nobody to help them recover. The tears had stopped only because they had cried themselves out. Betsy cleared her throat loud enough to get the attention of everyone below her. As one, the crowd turned to look at her. "I have good news and some bad news," Betsy said brightly. One of the men said, "Lady, I can't take any more bad news." Looking a little apologetic, Betsy said, "The bad news isn't exactly new news." "You're going to tell us that we're homeless and their isn't a hope in hell that we'll survive this mess," the man said. Betsy said, "The bad news is that you are homeless. The good news is that you aren't exactly hopeless." "What do you mean?" "What's that across the street?" Betsy asked pointing at a building. "That's a hotel," the man answered. "Where are all of the tourists?" Betsy asked. "They flew out or left on a boat this morning," the man answered. "That's right. They left. When do you expect the next batch of tourists to show up?" Betsy asked. "Lady, they aren't ever coming back." Betsy said, "So, let me get this straight. You're sitting over here homeless because your houses burned down. All that's going to be left is a lot of empty land with nothing on it except for some concrete foundations that could be removed. Unless someone does something, there will be plants growing wild all over that land. "On the other hand, across the street is an empty hotel with two hundred rooms, with beds in each room, that will never be occupied by a tourist ever again. It's got a restaurant and facilities to wash clothes and sheets and stuff. The fusion cell is nearly new and more than enough to power the place for the next decade. Unless it gets occupied soon, it's just going to sit there and decay." "Lady, we can't afford to stay in a hotel." "Why not?" Betsy asked. "We don't have the money," the man replied angrily. "Who, exactly, is staffing the hotel at the moment?" "No one," the man said. "Let's see, who owns it? I don't know, but it's probably some corporation on the mainland. After all, it is an international chain. I imagine they're already bankrupt or heading that way. You know, tourism is really going to take a major hit worldwide." "That's true," a woman said. "Does that give anyone any ideas?" Betsy asked. The people in the crowd started looking at each other. One of the women said, "I guess we could move in there. What's the worst that could happen? They throw us out?" "You're right. They could throw us out and we'd be homeless. Of course, we're homeless now, but until they throw us out we'll have a roof over our head," another woman said. "That's true." "I suppose we could use our property to grow some food," one of the men said. "We could do that if we could get some seeds." One of the men looked up to ask Betsy a question, but she was gone. The crowd milled around for a few more minutes and then headed across the street to check out their new home. A couple of buildings away, Betsy watched them enter the hotel. She smiled confident that they'd figure something out and headed on to the next trouble spot. ------- Betsy dropped to the ground next to the grim faced man who was looking down the body riddled street. He and his men had just suppressed a mob of angry rioters. It had been ugly, and very violent. "Hello, Colonel Stewart. It looks like the mob made it this far," Betsy said looking down the street. Startled, the man turned to look at her. Her ability to get through his perimeter was really beginning to bother him. He replied, "They didn't make it any further." "Don't feel bad. They burned down a neighborhood a couple of blocks from here. They left over two hundred people homeless," Betsy said. "I can't help them," Colonel Stewart said thinking that his resources were already stretched beyond its limits. "I don't expect you to help them by providing some shelter. I was just thinking that there were some seeds in one of the labs that they might be able use to start a little agriculture in this area," Betsy said. "Seeds?" Colonel Stewart asked. "Yes," Betsy answered. "You might not know it, but this place was established as agriculture school." "I didn't know that," Colonel Stewart said. "Now you do," Betsy said. "This place is a treasure trove of things that are useful now and in the future. You might get a couple of people to do an inventory." "My men are busy defending this place." "What about the families?" "I guess I just said something stupid," Colonel Stewart said. "It happens to us all," Betsy said. "How are you doing?" Colonel Stewart asked. "I'm doing fine. I'll be going home in a couple of days," Betsy said. "Are you sure it is still there?" "I've got an army guarding it," Betsy answered with a smile. "Let me guess, this is your home." "Nope. Although I'm a student here, I live on Kauai," Betsy answered. "I didn't realize we had any men guarding anything there." "It's a private army," Betsy said. "Where did you get a private army?" Seeing the expression on his face, she said, "It's nothing like what you're thinking. I've got a bunch of retired Marines living in my place. They aren't going to let anyone take it." "For a minute there I was worried. What are you doing here?" "I'm making good things happen," Betsy answered. "Like what?" "Tonight, I'm off to see a man about cattle," Betsy answered. "Cattle? So you're going out to a ranch." "That's right," Betsy said. Colonel Stewart said, "There was a time when cattle ranching was big business on this island. I don't believe there are enough cattle left on island to feed everyone here. Most of the places have gone over to raising horses. Tourists love to ride horses." "There aren't any tourists left and I've got a feeling that folks will be looking at horses as meat rather than entertainment," Betsy said. "I don't want to hear that," Colonel Stewart said. "People are going to be going after the wild pigs, too." "That doesn't bother me." "Some folks are going to get hurt trying to domesticate them." "There's no limit to stupidity." "We're all guilty of it at times," Betsy said with a smile. "Touché." Betsy said, "I've got to visit the marina. I'm pretty sure that's a disaster area." "Take it easy," Colonel Stewart said. He watched Betsy run off. It wasn't long before she was out of sight. Colonel Stewart, in a soft voice, said, "It's dangerous out there. I hope someone is watching over you." ------- Things were real quiet on the ranch. With the tourists gone, it didn't seem like the same place. Steve Winslow, owner of the ranch, stood out on his front porch looking over his land. His eyes kept drifting to the road that used to bring busloads of tourists for horseback riding tours. He knew there weren't going to be any more buses for a long time. A bit of movement along the road caught his attention. He squinted. "What the hell is that?" After a minute, the small dot on the landscape grew a little in size. He could see that it was a person running down the road, but moving faster than he thought possible. Taking a sip of his coffee, he watched while the person continued to run towards the house. "It looks like I'm going to have company for breakfast," Steve said. Betsy pulled up to a stop in front of the house. She looked up at him. He looked down at her. She said, "You've got a really nice place here." "Thank you," Steve said. "My brother has a working ranch in Arizona. It's a whole lot more brown there than here." Steve chuckled. "I'm sure it is." "Of course, this doesn't look like much of a working ranch," Betsy said. "It looks more like a tourist trap." "Appearances can be deceiving. We're a working ranch. We've got cattle and horses." "Well, you're lucky you've got cattle. That is going to make you one of the richest men on the island," Betsy said. "I've been one of the richest men on the island for years," Steve said. "Now, it's official," Betsy said. "You and a handful of others control all of the beef on the island. You've got a million hungry customers who want what you have." "I was thinking about that, this morning," Steve said. She had actually summarized his situation better than he had. He was still trying to deal with the loss of tourism revenue to have spent too much time thinking about his cattle and horse operations. Betsy said, "You could also be one very dead rich man if you aren't careful." "Why do you say that?" "I don't think you have enough folks here to hold off thousands of hungry desperate people who might get the idea of coming up here and going home with a side of beef," Betsy said. "I hadn't thought that," Steve said with a frown. Betsy said, "I did. I ran all of the way from Honolulu to discuss it with you." "You ran all of the way here from Honolulu?" "It wasn't that far. I left about three this morning," Betsy said. "Aren't you tired?" "Not really. I am pretty hungry, though. All of that running tends to burn up calories." "Come in and have some breakfast," Steve said. Betsy followed him into the house. "You wouldn't happen to be Betsy Carter, would you?" "Yes, I am," Betsy said rather surprised to learn that he had recognized her. "I thought so. There aren't that many people around who can run like you," Steve said. "That's true," Betsy said. Steve said, "I heard from a friend of mine that you recommended he spend all of his money just before the economy collapsed." "Who was that?" "Skip." "I bought a couple of boats from him. Did he spend his commission?" "Yes, he did. Based on his recommendation, I did the same thing. I accepted delivery of a bunch of cattle from Hawaii – the big island," Steve said. "Smart thinking," Betsy said. Steve said, "You can't imagine my surprise when I learned that the bank I did all of my business with went bankrupt the day after I spent a whole wad of money out of my accounts there." "I bet that hurt the bank," Betsy said. "I imagine it did. Matter of fact, I wasn't the only one who did that." "Why did everyone do that?" Steve pointed to the torque around her arm. "When a servant of the Gods and Goddesses says to empty your bank accounts, there are some people who listen." "I'm not a Druid, though." "It doesn't matter if you're a Druid, or Bard, or whatever you are; you serve the Gods and Goddesses. When you talk, smart people will listen." "I didn't think of that," Betsy said with a frown. They reached the dining room. The table was loaded with food. Betsy looked at it and licked her lips. She said, "I better warn you that I have a pretty good appetite." "I've heard that you had three of the big steaks from the Big Steak Steakhouse," Steve said. "You know a lot about me," Betsy said. Steve said, "One thing is puzzling me." "What?" "Why did you become half partners in a fishing boat?" Steve asked. "I've got some projects to complete. I figured I'd pay people in fish," Betsy answered. "I never would have thought of doing that," Steve said. He had a couple of tour boats that were sitting at the dock doing nothing. As soon as the tourists left, he had parked them there hoping that some day, some one would buy them from him. He hadn't thought about using them as a way of getting food from the ocean. They sat down at the table and, after being invited to eat, Betsy started loading her plate with food. She grinned at the shocked expression on Steve's face. She said, "I told you I was hungry." "You did, at that." Betsy said, "You've got some chickens, pigs, cattle, and horses." "That's right. You seem to know a lot about my operation," Steve said. "I sent one of my people over here a month ago, to go on one of your tours. It was a recon mission," Betsy said. "I hope you aren't planning on taking it over." "No. I'm not a rancher. I prefer the ocean," Betsy said. "Sharks." "Do I have any secrets?" Betsy asked. "I'm sure you do," Steve said with a grin. He dug into his scrambled eggs while watching her wolf down a piece of toast in two bites. He had to admit that she ate with gusto. From what he knew about her, he suspected that she did everything with gusto. Betsy said, "We figured that in about six months, you could provide the rest of the island with real meat protein in the form of chicken and beef. The problem is that six months is a bit too long to wait. People are already fighting over food." "I'm well aware of that. Although with the cattle I just bought, I could move that up," Steve said. "You also have the problem of what will you get in exchange for your goods." "I'll admit my thinking hasn't gotten that far along." Betsy said, "You better think about it. You'll have problems regardless of whatever you decide is a reasonable medium of exchange. If you charge too much, people are going to turn on you. If you don't charge enough, you'll have riots." "It's kind of a catch 22. I'm rich, but I can't use my wealth to get wealthier and I can't be charitable because I'm not rich enough." "You the hit the nail on the head," Betsy said. She looked at her plate and asked, "Can I have some more?" "Go ahead," Steve said gesturing to the food still on the table. He wasn't going to mention that he was expecting five more people to join him for breakfast. He was going to have to ask the cook to prepare a second breakfast at the rate she was eating. Betsy loaded her plate with another full helping of food. "So what do you suggest I do?" Steve asked. "I don't know," Betsy said. "It's not my job to solve your problem. I'm just here to get you started on solving it." "You came all this way to tell me that you don't know how to solve my problem." "No. I came here to accelerate your thinking about the problem. There's a difference. In one case, I give you the solution. In the other, you come up with a solution. At least, now, you might come up with one in time to do some good," Betsy replied. "I'm not sure that you've accomplished much." Betsy said, "This morning you were worried about having lost all of those tourists. Now, you've got a different problem to worry about. I bet there are a couple of other ranchers on the island who are still thinking about all of the tourists they lost and not thinking about ranching. I'm sure with a few phone calls that you can remedy that situation." "I'll bet I could. There aren't that many ranchers," Steve said with a smile. Betsy said, "I disagree. There are also other food producers on the island who are facing the same questions. I suppose that if you did a little organizing that you could put together a total package of food that could support the entire island with a little help from the neighboring islands. Don't forget, there are inter-island freighters that can still move goods among the islands." "So you're suggesting that I form a consortium of food producers and we can take over the island." "I don't recommend doing that. People tend to revolt when things like that happen. Like I said, earlier, you could end up being a very dead rich man." "So what would be the elements of a good solution?" "One in which people are led to a much greater self sufficiency. Restarting the farms like the rice farms, the fish farms, and some of the older crops that have been abandoned over the past twenty years. You might consider motivating people to start local food processing plants. A good solution would require less reliance on imports," Betsy answered. "That's a pretty tough target," Steve said. "Well, you won't be alone," Betsy said. "I'll think about it," Steve said. "That's all I wanted." He realized that she had accomplished her goal. "Then I guess you accomplished your mission." "You've got to think short-term and long-term." "Of course." Betsy pushed away from the table and said, "I guess I'd better be running along. I've got to visit the governor a little later." "Do you need a ride?" "No. Traveling around in a car is a little too dangerous at the moment. I can run places that others can't follow. With a car, you're kind of stuck to being on the road," Betsy answered. "Do you need some food?" "No. I've got supplies stashed all over the island," Betsy answered. "Good planning." "Thanks," Betsy said. "There's no need to get up. I can show myself out." He was still rising from his chair by the time she was out the front door. He chuckled. "She ran all that way, for breakfast." He stuck his head in the kitchen and said, "You need to put together another breakfast spread. We had a guest who polished off everything you put out, earlier." "One guest ate all that food?" "Yes." ------- "Five, maybe more, governments fell in the last twenty-four hours. Two of them were in Europe," the Governor said. Betsy said, "I'm sorry to hear that." "I was on the phone with the President this morning. I'm afraid that our government is on the verge of collapse." "That's not good news." The Governor said, "More than two million people people have died in riots on the mainland. The worst places were in the major cities, New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Houston, Boston, and..." she exhaled loudly, "if it's a big city, then it's in trouble. Unlike here, most of those folks can't see open land from where they live. Here, you see some land off in the distance, and there's that little thought that you can use that land to survive. It gives you a little hope. "When you're surrounded by concrete, that's not the case. When food stops showing up, then you know that you're going to starve unless you get food from somewhere. People turn on each other." "There are Druids working to maintain order," Betsy said. "There are three hundred and fifty million people on the mainland. There are what – a thousand Druids." "Not that many," Betsy said. "The Druids are a little outnumbered," the Governor said. "That's true. Still Druids do tend to be very effective. Don't forget, the Fusion Foundation was started by a Druid and it does more than any single person could do," Betsy said. The Governor said, "I was talking to the Governor of Alaska. They suffer the same problem of isolation that we have. They're considering issuing their own currency." "That's one option," Betsy said. "I wouldn't even know how to go about it." Betsy said, "For most of history, money was a real physical thing that one could hold, store, and count. It had a substance and reality to it that we don't really understand today. One either paid cash for something, or bartered, or went without. "Quite honestly, barter was probably wider spread. The interesting thing about barter is that it really helps establish the value of things, far better than a price tag. My cow is worth two pigs or forty chickens. That's real and substantive. You don't have holiday sales on that kind of worth. "We've become a digital currency society. We don't really use cash for our transactions although it is still accepted everywhere. We get a check and deposit it in a bank without ever seeing the 'cash.' We write checks to pay our bills without really sending 'cash.' Most companies won't accept cash as a form of a bill payment. For all of the money that moves from one place to another in this country, very little of it is in the form of cash. "We've lost the art of barter. We have come to rely upon price as an indicator of value, and that gets set based on costs and profitability rather than real worth. It's a rather interesting idea because rather than a thing's value residing in how meaningful and useful something is to us, we use the price as a measure. Of course, price of a thing is totally disconnected from its true value, since any price desired can be put on something. A dress with the name of designer on it, has no greater intrinsic value than a dress without one ... but the price is higher. "Everyone forgets that government is a business, not a charity. It provides services to its clients and receives payment for those services in the form of taxes. The services include development of an infrastructure, public health, looking out for the welfare of its citizens, support for trade, and protection from those who would harm the populace. Just like any other business, or even a person, a government keeps its money in banks. "When the digital infrastructure that supported money died, everyone lost money because it wasn't in the form of cash that was holdable and countable. It was in bits and bytes that existed only because the infrastructure was in place. When the infrastructure went, so did the wealth of all the people, and businesses, and governments in the country. We have to include governments as one of the losers. "You are broke, just like everyone else. In a business sense, you are bankrupt. The weird thing is that most of the goods and services those businesses and even our governments provide, still have a true value. I can go and barter for a fish since the fish has real value. The question is, what do I have that is of real value? My television may have real value for someone who wants to watch television. I could also trade labor for fish. I could help unload the boat in exchange for a fish or two. So in a way, I do have things that have real value that can be used in trade. "A government or a business can't really collect fish in payment for services. That's why money was introduced to begin with. Money doesn't rot and smell after three days. Although, the Romans used salt to pay their troops, which is the basis of the word salary. Salt was good because it didn't rot and it had a real value, since it was a necessity of life. Of course, the local value of salt isn't that high when you live next to a salty ocean, so I'd say that using salt as currency on this island doesn't make much sense. "I suppose a business or government could exchange labor for services. I mean, that's how governments used to operate. A king would require locals to maintain the roads in exchange for a tax break. It was the King's road, but it was local labor that made and maintained it. Of course, tax avoidance and being able to pay for things aren't exactly the same." With a rather chilly tone to her voice, the Governor said, "Thank you for the lecture on economics." Betsy replied, "It wasn't a lecture so much as a reminder of what money really means. Our society has gotten so far from the real root of money, that we've lost touch with what it represents. You've got to find the one thing here that has true value, and can be used as a medium of exchange. Then the government, businesses, and people can operate within a functional society. If you fail to do that in a reasonable time, people will come up with a solution of their own, but it won't be the basis for a stable and peaceful society. It will be more along the lines of might makes right." Betsy rose and was gone before the Governor had a chance to respond. She sat there staring out the window through which Betsy had disappeared. She was lost in thought when her secretary entered the room. "I hope we don't lose cell phones in the middle of this crisis. Can you imagine what would happen when people can't get in touch with each other?" The Governor stared at her secretary for a minute. Coming to a decision, she said, "Get General Hampton in my office, right now. I've got something for him to do." ------- Betsy walked into a bar, rather surprised to find that it was open. So many businesses were closed that commerce had essentially stopped. She sat down on a stool at the counter. "Hello," the bartender said. Betsy asked, "How much is a cold glass of cola?" "Cola?" "Yes." "A quarter ounce of gold should cover it," the man replied. Betsy thought the price was rather steep. She reached into the bag she had brought with her and pulled out a can of creamed corn. She said, "It's interesting that you say that. I've got a can of creamed corn that I'm selling for a quarter ounce of gold." "Deal." Betsy slid the can across the counter. The bartender handed her a glass filled with ice and a soft drink. She raised the glass in a silent salute and then took a sip of the cold refreshing beverage. She pointed to the television while asking, "Does that work?" "Yes, but most people don't want to hear the bad news that's being broadcast." "Would you mind turning it on? I figure we're long past due for some good news," Betsy said. "Since it is just you and I in here, why not?" he replied while walking over to the television. The Governor was on television talking about the current economic crisis. She kept mentioning that money was based on something that people valued. In the middle of her speech, she received a cell phone call. Rather than ignoring it, she answered the phone and had a short conversation while on the air. "Stupid women. She's on television, for Christ's sake," the bartender said. The Governor hung up and apologized, explaining that her daughter was letting her know that she had arrived home safely. She then went on for a few minutes about the value that being able to hear from her daughter had for her. The bartender said, "She's got that right. My wife would die without our cell phones. She calls me every hour on the hour because she's afraid that someone is going to come in here and kill me while robbing the place. She's right to be worried." "I wonder what's going to happen when cell phone service gets cut off," Betsy said. "Why would it get cut off?" "Who is paying for it?" Betsy asked. "Oh, shit, you're right," the bartender said. Betsy said, "I imagine that right now they are running on automated systems. The minute one of those computers goes down, pop goes the weasel." "You're one scary woman," the bartender said. The Governor continued talking about how essential the cell phone was in the modern world. It was really the glue that kept the world functioning. She then mentioned that the state had taken over operation of all the cell phone systems on the islands. It hadn't been difficult since there was nobody present to stop them. In fact, they were rather fortunate in showing up when they did. Several of the systems were in an errored state, and one of the networks was on the verge of shutting down. The bartender looked at the television. He said, "Is she going to do what I think she's going to do?" "What do you think she's going to do?" "Make cell phone minutes a currency," the bartender said. "That sounds almost positively brilliant," Betsy said. "Actually, it does." Betsy asked, "Would you accept cell phone minutes in exchange for a drink?" "If it keeps my wife happy, you bet. Particularly, if I can trade some of those minutes for food." "I'm sure that a few fishermen probably feel the same way. I'm sure that one or two of them would trade cell phone minutes for a nice cold beer," Betsy said. "It could work," he said thoughtfully. "I'm sure that there are a lot people who feel that way," Betsy said. "You're right." The Governor announced that tomorrow she was going to shut down the cell phone network for three hours to demonstrate the value of the service the government was providing. She then laid out a plan for transitioning over to a cell phone minute based economy including payment for services rendered to the government using cell phone minutes. There was a huge need to clean up the damages created by the recent riots. Individuals contributing to the clean up, would be paid for their efforts. Payment would be in the form of cards that could be redeemed for cell phone minutes. The bartender said, "I think she's going about this the right way." "Me too," Betsy said. "I wonder if they're going to do the same thing on the mainland." "I imagine the governor is in contact with other governors. It might take some time. Good news travels a lot slower than bad news," Betsy said. "So long as people can talk to each other and share information, you still have a civilization," the bartender said. "You sound like you're an educated man," Betsy said. "I've got a degree in history. I used some of the lessons in history to realize that trading goods for gold is a decent strategy during a crisis. People value gold and that's why it has always been a medium of exchange. That's why I stayed open and set my prices in gold," the bartender said. "That's kind of greedy, but smart," Betsy said. "I'm just trying to provide for my family," the bartender said. "So is everyone," Betsy agreed. She finished her soda and slid the empty glass across the counter. Rising, she said, "It's been a pleasure talking to you." "Anytime," the bartender said. ------- Betsy stood on the shore, looking out at the ocean. Although things were still bad, she felt that the worst was over. The tourists had returned home, a currency of sorts had been established, and food from a couple of the ranches was making its way into the city. People were working to build rather than destroy. She took a deep breath and put on her rebreather. It was time to go home. She waded out into the water and then submerged for the long swim home. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 4 Betsy waded ashore. She had a large fish, which she held by its tail, slung over her shoulder nearly to her waist. It was flopping around, but she ignored its motions. Once away from the water, she dropped the fish on the sand and removed the rebreather from her back. Then she knelt down, and with her knife, filleted the fish. It didn't take long for her to remove several nice fillets from the fish. She took a minute to wash the fish filets off in the ocean as well as return the innards to the water for the crabs to feast upon. She looked around for a second before spotting some deadwood along the beach. She gathered it together and made a small pile. She started a fire by rubbing two sticks together, at what was an inhuman speed. It took a while for the fire to burn down to coals. While waiting, she searched along the beach for some leaves to wrap the fish. She found a couple of palm leaves that would do. She wrapped pieces of fish in them. It wasn't great, but it was good enough. After wetting the outside of the wrapping, she put them on the coals. She sat by the fire and waited for the fish cook. Her stomach growled in anticipation of being filled. She had burned up a lot of calories over the past few hours and needed to replace them. She looked across the water thinking about the long swim through the night. The sun had been up for an hour, and she was expected home, soon. Her hunger was such that she had decided to take the time to fill her stomach before continuing. After about ten minutes, she turned the fish to cook on the other side. Ten minutes later she fished out a leaf, and unwrapped it. The fish looked and smelled good. The first bite tasted wonderful, despite the lack of seasonings. She sighed in pleasure at the simple meal. By the time she finished, she wished that she'd had a few spices to improve the flavor a little, but at least her appetite was temporarily sated. She put out the fire and cleaned up the area. There was no need to leave a mess behind. She also took a moment to wash off a little in the water. She didn't want to return home smelling like fish. She had a pretty good idea where she was and got ready to head home. Her rebreather was not the most comfortable backpack, but it was too valuable to leave behind. She shrugged it back on, adjusted the straps, and then took off at a run. ------- Upon reaching the driveway to her house, she was surprised to see people boiling out of it to greet her. It was like everyone had been waiting for her to return. She was a little choked up to see the happy expressions on everyone's faces. Shouldering everyone out of his way, Chuck was the first to reach her. He picked her up, hugged her, and passionately kissed her. She wrapped her legs around him and kissed him back just as passionately. For most of her life, she had never imagined that she'd ever find someone who would greet her like that. It was almost enough to make her cry. "I'm so glad you're back," Chuck said with the raw emotion of relief heavy in his voice. "With a welcome back like that, I think I'll go away more often," Betsy said with a pleased smile. "I was worried about you," Chuck said. "We talked every day on the cell phone." Chuck said, "It's not the same as holding you in my arms." "I'm going to spend three days and nights in your arms. Nothing is going to get me out of your arms," Betsy said. Standing off to the side, Sally had tears in her eyes. She wiped them away and said, "Hey you two. There are other people here who want to welcome Betsy home." Betsy, still being held up by Chuck, looked over at Sally, winked, and said, "Wait your turn!" Sally laughed. A few seconds later, she was being hugged by Betsy. The two women were both crying with happiness. "We were so worried about you," Sally said. "There was no need to worry about me," Betsy said. "I know you can take care of yourself, but when they stopped broadcasting local news we really got worried," Sally said. The only news was a cable news service that was broadcasting snippets of news from around the country and the rest of the world. The cable companies that once carried over six hundred channels had dropped to the point where there were only five channels. The internet, which still functioned, was a better source of news. People also turned to it to get ideas on how to survive. There weren't many articles about good news. "Did you see the Governor's piece?" "I couldn't believe it. Cell phone minutes as a temporary form of currency. I wonder who dreamed that up," Sally said. One by one, the women on the staff greeted Betsy, and then it was Gary's turn. His greeting that she was late was delivered in a gruff voice, but it was obvious that he was happy to see her. There was the sound of a rooster crowing from the backyard. Hearing it, Betsy turned to Sam and asked, "When did we get a rooster?" "I bought chickens when you told us to get rid of our money," Sam answered. "I also got a pregnant sow, a cow, and a couple turkeys. I couldn't find any sheep." "Wow!" "She also bought a lot seeds. We've been putting in a garden," Wheels said. "That's really a great idea. I should have thought of that," Betsy said. "You were busy with other things," Charlie said. Captain Jack, Debbie, Paul, Sue, Ben, and Henry were waiting off to the side. Betsy turned to them and said, "I'm so happy you made it here." Ben said, "I'm delighted to be here. This is an oasis of calm in the midst of absolute chaos." Debbie said, "I didn't really think too much about how lucky I was to have left when I did. It wasn't until I delivered the fish to the soldiers guarding the university that I realized what I had been spared. It looked like a war been fought there on the dock." Captain Jack said, "There are a lot of boats that got sunk in the marina. One of the fellows at the dock said that people were pulling guns on folks to get them to take them to the mainland." "That's kind of what I figured would happen," Betsy said. She wasn't going to mention that she had watched some of the action at one of the marinas the day after the bank collapse. There were a lot of desperate people who believed that being stuck on the island was a death sentence. Rather than suffer through a long painful period of starvation, they were willing to kill to get off the island. In a way, she could understand their feelings. It was a widely accepted belief that the island couldn't support the current population, at least in the manner of the recent times. There had been major arguments in the past over whether the islands could ever be self-sustaining. It wasn't as hopeless as many people believed. Long grain rice had once been grown on the islands, but the influx of Japanese who preferred short grain rice had killed the market to the point were rice production was almost non-existent. Fish farms utilizing stone lined ponds that connected directly to the sea had once been common, but had disappeared. Fish and crabs had been raised in those ponds and would be of value again in the future. There was still a large aquaculture movement on the island. It focused primarily on shrimp, a few species of finned fish, oysters, and algae. Betsy suspected that Sally, with her expertise concerning fish parasites, was about to become a very important woman on the islands. Professor Parrish would also be a major player in the establishment of a sustainable aquaculture. The fact though was that some food was exported from the islands. Cattle were actually shipped back to the mainland where they were fattened in feed lots, butchered, and the meat sent back to the island. Pineapples, shrimp/prawn, sugar, and macadamia nuts were the primary exports. There was also coffee, a local resource that people would appreciate, upon learning that it was a pleasure that would be denied most people on the mainland. Debbie said, "Odds are pretty good that if I had been at the dock at the time, someone, or a bunch of someones, would have tried to take the boat." "Same with the Bloated Shark," Captain Jack said. "I'm glad that things worked out for the best," Betsy said. Sue said, "I heard that a bunch of people got killed at the university. Is that true?" "I'm afraid so. There weren't any students injured as far as I know. I was told that a mob showed up there after burning down a neighborhood and wouldn't turn away. They were burning buildings to hide the fact that they were stealing everything they could get their hands on. The university looked like a big fat target. They didn't know the National Guard was under orders to protect the university even if it was necessary to kill," Betsy answered. "I'm glad we were here," Sue said with a shiver going down her spine. Betsy looked over at Henry. He looked a little different than in the past. It took her a second to puzzle out what had changed. A slow smile spread across her face. She said, "For the world's laziest man, you look pretty fit – like you've been exercising, or something." "I kind of expected the escape to be a little more physical than having Paul carry my luggage to the Bloated Shark," Henry said looking a little sheepish. "What do you mean? He carried your luggage?" Betsy asked. "Well, he carried it from my office to my car, and then from the car to the boat," Henry said. Sue said, "You forgot to mention that he carried it from your apartment to your lab." "And you packed everything? That's real effort on your part," Betsy said. Henry said, "Tell me about it. I haven't moved around that much in years." Betsy laughed. Amused, Paul shook his head. Sue snorted in disgust. It was her personal opinion that Henry was getting more from Paul than Paul was getting from Henry. There were times when it really bothered her, but she was too polite to make a fuss. Betsy said, "At least there's a university for us to return to." "There is that," Henry said. Sue said, "I'm not sure what a degree will be worth after what happened." "You don't get a degree to earn money. You go through college to gain knowledge, and to learn how to learn more. You can never know enough," Betsy said. "Wise words," Henry said. Sue knew that sitting around and thinking great thoughts did not get things done. At the current time, laziness was the greatest sin. It was going to take hard work, most of it physical, to get things back to normal. She said, "Oh, shut up. You're nothing but a lazy bum. You take all of the credit for Paul's hard work. I'm tired of hearing all about the great Henry Thibodeaux." Betsy was about to explode, but Henry held up a hand to silence her. His education at the Druid College was not wasted. He recognized her reaction for what it was – an inability to accept that others had a different way of accomplishing things than she did. He looked down at the ground and said, "I'm sorry that you feel that way. I apologize if I've given the impression to anyone that I have taken credit for anything Paul has done." Defending his mentor, Paul said, "Sue, he's never taken credit for anything I've done." "Bullshit! Everyone talks about the electronics he installed in that boat. I know better. I watched you install every piece of equipment on it," Sue said. Her eyes flashed when she turned to Henry and said, "You can't deny that." "I don't deny that," Henry said. "All I did was put them onto the boat. I did the simple stuff ... like put it in the rack, wire it together, and test it. Henry did the real work. He specified what the equipment had to be capable of doing, found the equipment that met the specs, modified stuff when nothing on the market would do the job, and put the whole package together in an integrated and cohesive fashion. For every hour I worked, he probably put in ten," Paul said. "He just sat there and typed on his computer. You were lifting and carrying and working," Sue said a little less forcefully. "In the engineering field, the real work is done up here," Paul said tapping his temple. "Anyone can do what I did. It takes a special kind of mind to do what he did. He's the best in the world at it. You wouldn't believe how much he's taught me." "I'm not the best," Henry said modestly. Having watched the exchange, Betsy said, "Spoken like a true graduate of the Druid College." "He graduated from the Druid College?" Sue asked wide-eyed. She was well aware of the reputation of the Druid College. Only the most brilliant folks graduated from there and everyone of them was the top of their field. They actually did things, that no one else even dreamed about. "Yes, he did. He drove my mother nuts with his physical laziness. Of course, his instructors appreciated his hard work ethic when it came to learning. He graduated and has the right to wear the white robe with five hashes on the sleeve," Betsy said. Looking at his class ring, Henry said, "I wore that robe when I got my Doctorate rather than the black one they offered. I mentioned that I wasn't a servant of the Two-Sided One and wouldn't wear a black robe out of respect for those who did." "Nice," Betsy said knowing that every graduate of the Druid College who went on for an advanced degree did the same thing. The one exception she knew about was her brother William. Although she was too young to have thought about it at the time, she suspected that he wanted to wear the black robe to beg the Two-Sided One to begin his service. "Will you wear the black robe of a servant of the Two-Sided One when you graduate?" Henry asked. "I don't know if I'm supposed to wear one. I suppose, with this arm torque, that a black leather warrior babe outfit would be a more appropriate choice," Betsy said jokingly. All of the men flashed on that image and nearly choked. Fortunately, none of them were drinking anything, or people would have gotten sprayed. Alice and Wheels burst out laughing. For some reason that remained a mystery, Sue hit Paul on the arm. Betsy said, "It wasn't that funny." "If you ever get a black leather warrior babe outfit, I hope that I am the first and only one to ever see you in it," Chuck said. Betsy looked at him in shock. She was actually speechless for a second. There was a hard possessive tone to his voice that she'd never heard before. It took her a second to realize what he was saying. Finally, she said, "You're jealous." "Yes, I am." "Oh. That's kinda nice," Betsy said. "Would you like to see me in an outfit like that?" "Can we talk about that later?" "Sure." Alice said, "Let's go around to the back yard. The picnic tables are all set up." Sam said, "She put out a large spread figuring you'd be hungry." "That's a good idea. I'm starved," Betsy said. The group headed around the side of the house. The security center and office building had not changed much since she had last been there. It was basically framed in, but the exterior had not be put up yet. She figured that she might actually enjoy doing that work, if she could find someone to show her how. The backyard had changed significantly in the last few weeks. There was now a large vegetable garden running the length of the yard with plants that were just beginning to appear. It was neatly laid out and there wasn't a weed to be seen. It was lot more open with a rather substantial road off to the side that led to the modular offices Betsy had ordered. Three of the modular offices were divided into living space for four people each, giving them sufficient room for twelve people. One of the modular offices was used for food storage. There was a lot of food stuffed into that one building. Betsy asked, "What's with the cylinders on top of the poles?" "Those are the remotely controlled guns," Sam answered rather proudly. "Can I fire one?" Betsy asked. Sue said, "Why was I sure she was going to ask that?" "Because the only thing Betsy enjoys more than a good bang is a loud boom," Alice said. "You were just as interested in watching them explode that bomb as I was," Betsy said. "So?" "Well, nothing." "It was kind of disappointing, though. I thought it would be a bigger explosion," Alice said. "You can say that again," Betsy said. She stopped at the patio and removed the rebreather from her back. She dropped it and the GPS unit on a small table there. Upon turning to face the rest of the yard, Betsy looked at one of the picnic tables. It was loaded with food. There were three 'lazy susans' with different kinds of olives, sweet pickles, dill pickles, carrots, celery, green onions, broccoli, bell peppers, quartered tomatoes, and mushrooms. There was a plate filled with deviled eggs and stuffed endives. There were plates with sliced lunch meats, whole leaves of lettuce, sliced tomatoes, and slices of three different kinds of cheese. There were bowls of potato salad, cole slaw, and tossed salad. And finally, there were rolls of various and shapes and sizes on a couple of huge platters. Amazed, she said, "Wow! This is a feast!" "Thanks," Alice said. Everyone sat around the table. Betsy was bracketed by Chuck and Sally. Of course, Steve was next to Sally. Paul and Sue sat at the far end. Much to Sue's amazement, Henry chose to sit next to her. She took the opportunity to apologize for her early comments. Henry said that it was refreshing to see a woman stand by her man as she had done, and that Paul was a lucky man. There was a bit of talking while people loaded their plates and took initial tastes of everything. Most of the comments were about how good the food looked and people identifying their favorite dishes. Once the serious eating began, the conversations tapered off except for requests to pass some dish or another. When people finished eating they sat back, sighed, and then conversations began again. It was a really pleasant meal. Sally said, "I'm kind sad. I'm going to have to start my research all over again." "No, you won't," Betsy said. "I've missed almost two weeks of collecting data. Besides, I imagine that all of my fish are dead," Sally said. Betsy said, "I made a deal with a guy to take care of your fish. I told him to feed them once a day, to sacrifice one fish a week, and freeze it immediately afterward." "What kind of deal did you make?" "Well, I gave him two months worth of food and a girl," Betsy answered. "A girl?" Chuck asked turning to stare incredulously at her. "You just gave some guy a girl?" "Well, yes." Curious, Gary asked, "Just how does one go about giving some guy a girl?" "Well, she was interested in him, and he was too stupid to notice," Betsy said. "She was so obvious about it, too. It's hard to understand how he couldn't see it." "I have no idea how anyone could fail to notice that someone was interested in them particularly when they are so obvious about it," Chuck said a little tongue in cheek. "Well..." Gary laughed and said, "Aww, Betsy's blushing." "Must be a sexual blush," Alice said. "They've been apart for so long, she must be excited by all of the attention he's giving her." "I'd say that's more like embarrassment," Sam said. "Definitely embarrassment," Wheels said. "Do you think?" Alice asked. "All right everyone. I'll admit it. I was just as stupid as he was," Betsy said. Touched that Betsy had taken the time to make sure that her research was saved, Sally said, "Thank you for taking care of my fish, Betsy." "It was nothing," Betsy replied. "It was everything," Sally said. "You saved nine months of my work." "Well, you'll be back there before you know it. I figure another two weeks and things will have calmed down significantly," Betsy said. "Why two weeks?" Betsy said, "It's kind of hard to survive when your exerting all of your energy in a destructive manner. People reach a point where they have to stop protesting and resume the tough job of survival." "That's true, but there will be little flare ups occasionally," Stacy said. Gary said, "Unless the government fails big time, those flares up will be little local events rather than wide spread riots." Betsy said, "The Governor promised me that the National Guard will remain on the campus for six months." "It's still kind of scary," Sally said. Steve said, "I'll be there with you." "Me, too," Betsy said. "Me, too," Stacy said. Betsy looked around the table for a moment. There were a number of people missing that she had expected to be present. The temporary staff weren't there although Betsy knew that their status as temporary had basically transitioned to permanent. She didn't know any of them that well although Gary and Stacy had vetted them. She assumed that they were off with their families somewhere. She frowned and then asked, "Where are Bess and George?" Chuck answered, "They're at a funeral." "What happened?" Betsy asked. "A friend of ours committed suicide," Chuck answered somberly. Stacy said, "There's been a lot of that going around." The number of deaths that were being reported was staggering. Violent deaths during riots were the most common. Entire skyscrapers, the supposed homes of those who had caused the collapse of the economy, had burned down in New York City taking thousands of people with them. People who had nothing had swept out from inner cities to take what they wanted from suburban areas. There had been minor wars in which homeowners shot and killed angry mobs before getting overwhelmed by larger numbers. With the social order spiraling downwards, criminals saw nothing but opportunity. Young women were targeted for rape. Children playing in yards were grabbed and used as hostages in exchange for any food, money, or jewelry owned by their parents. Store owners were murdered by gangs interested in the goods within the store. Then the chronically ill people started dying. With no one to run dialysis equipment, people started dying of renal failure. Cancer patients, whose medications had run out, were left in pain. Euthanasia was an out taken by family members who couldn't stand to see a loved one in such pain. Heart attacks, strokes, and accidents helped increase the number of deaths. "There are a lot of people in this particular area who had a lot of money and now they don't. Most of them are too old to go out and build a new life, so they just give up," Chuck said. "My brother would talk about how people don't realize all of the possible futures ahead of them and only focus on the dire one. It's understandable, but that doesn't make me feel any better," Betsy said. "I know," Chuck said. He had been asked if he could attend the funeral, but seeing that Betsy got home safely was more important to him. He kind of felt guilty about that. It wasn't that he was particularly close to the deceased, but he had known him as a casual acquaintance for almost his entire life. Seeing the trace of guilt on his face, Betsy asked, "When is the funeral?" "It's in progress now. They were to start the ceremony about thirty minutes ago and the burial should be soon." "Would you like to go to the cemetery?" "You just got back." "I can go with you and we can pay our respects. It'll take me two minutes to change my clothes." "Okay," Chuck said thinking it would take her a bit longer than that. "Meet me in two minutes at the car," Betsy said. She was naked by the time she hit her bedroom, had showered under freezing water, dried off, and slipped on a black dress. She didn't have on hose, she was wearing no make up, and her hair was still wet, but she was ready to go. She was at car in less than two minutes. Chuck was actually stunned. They reached the cemetery just as the graveside service was beginning. A number of people present noted Chuck's presence there. Attention soon turned to the young woman standing beside him and holding his hand. Bess and George smiled at them. It was a weak little smile that spoke volumes considering the somber circumstances. Betsy watched the ceremony, amazed at the glow that formed around the priest while he was praying. At the proper time, the casket was lowered into the ground. The men picked up shovels to fill the grave. One of the men who had worked at the cemetery had dug a whole row of graves to be filled in as needed, but he wasn't there to operate the equipment to fill them in. Seeing the men filling the grave using shovels, Betsy went over and picked up a shovel as well. She started moving dirt with her normal degree of energy. More than one eye turned to watch the young woman wearing a dress, a little sexier of an outfit than was truly appropriate for a funeral, shoveling dirt. Somewhat amused, Bess came over and said, "Betsy, you don't need to do that." "That's okay. I don't mind," Betsy said brightly. Bess said, "Some of our neighbors would like to meet you. They are a little curious about the woman with Chuck." Putting aside the shovel, Betsy said, "Okay. I can do that." While they approached the small group of women, Bess asked, "When did your plane land?" Betsy answered, "I didn't take a plane. I swam over here from Oahu. I got in about an hour ago." One of the women there had overheard Betsy's answer. She was feeling old, and was not particularly pleased to have her age pointed out by a young athletic woman who was boasting about having done the impossible. The woman asked, "Did you really swim here from Oahu?" "Yes. It wasn't so bad, except I don't recommend doing it at night," Betsy said. "I don't believe you," the woman said. Bess said, "Believe her." Figuring the woman was upset about having lost a friend, Betsy said, "I was sorry to learn about your friend. It's always a sad thing to lose someone you care about." "Thank you," Bess said. "Did you know him?" "No." "You didn't even know John, so why should you care that he's dead?" the woman asked. Betsy replied, "That's true. I didn't know him and I'm not particularly hurt by his passing. However, I'm meeting you and you're the one whose lost a friend. I'm sorry for your loss." The Priest came over and said, "Hello, Ladies." Bess said, "Hello, Father Murphy." Betsy turned to him and said, "That was so cool when the glow appeared around you when you were praying. My brothers and sister used to tell me that they could see Jehovah manifest during religious services, but this was the first time I've ever seen it." "Excuse me?" the Priest said. The woman muttered, "What a fruitcake." Betsy said, "You would have enjoyed meeting my grandfather. He was Christian too. I imagine when he prayed the glow was really bright." "I'm sure I would have enjoyed meeting him," Father Murphy said trying to be polite. "I miss him. It's a shame that he had to be sacrificed, but he was willing to pay the price in his service to Jehovah," Betsy said. Knowing more about Betsy than anyone else gathered in the group, Bess said, "He was a great man. I'm sure you miss him." "I was really young at the time, but I saw it on the television that morning. It was a very sad day at the Druid College." Suspecting he knew the answer, he asked, "What sacrifice?" "My grandfather's sacrifice." "Who was your grandfather?" "The Reverend Leroy Jones." The woman, who had been giving her a hard time, said, "You're Betsy Carter!" "I probably should have introduced myself. Sometimes, I forget to do things like that," Betsy said. "I didn't realize who you were," the woman said although she wasn't sure if that changed her opinion of the young woman or not. "That's okay." Father Murphy said, "I would have been very honored to have met your grandfather." Betsy said, "You know, you and I, as servants to the Powers that Be, should really be hard at work. People need us in this time of trouble. I look over there at the grave and feel bad that here was a man who had lost hope." The woman said, "It is hopeless." Betsy said, "The sign over Hell says: 'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!' There's no need for hope in heaven. Earth, where we are, is the kingdom of hope. To think that there was someone who felt for even one moment that there is no hope here, is just tragic. Where there is life, there is hope. Where there is love, there is hope. Where friends gather to mourn the passing of a friend, there is hope. It is up to the servants, like Father Murphy and I, to remind people of that. Maybe that way, future tragedies like this can be avoided." Looking thoughtful, the priest said, "Sometimes, we all need a reminder of that." "Yes, we do," Betsy said. "So you're a Druid?" Betsy shook her head and pointed to the arm torque. She said, "I'm a Catalyst. I serve the Two-Sided One." "I've never heard of a Catalyst." "I create the conditions for change," Betsy said. The old woman who had been giving Betsy a hard time couldn't hold back. She said, "You're young and hope is easy for you. You have energy and can work towards things. We're old and worn out. Hope is more of a source of frustration than of comfort." Betsy said, "How many young couples are out there struggling to get by? They sit together at night feeling like two small people fighting against a huge unfeeling world. In these traumatic times, they feel even more vulnerable. They have hopes. One hope is to get help. Someone to hold the fort at home while they, with their youth and energy, go forth to pursue their other hopes. Who can they find who can stay at home and watch their stuff? Who is trustworthy? And when they have a baby, who will look after the infant if both need to work? "Sometimes, one person's hope is the answer to another person's hope. There are opportunities out there regardless of your age." "I never thought of it like that." Bess looked at Betsy as if seeing her for the first time. She looked around at the other women, who were listening to what Betsy was saying. She could see their expressions change, as if they were gaining an inner strength from somewhere. Betsy was having a simple conversation with two people, but she was changing a whole crowd. It was amazing. Bess hadn't ever seen Betsy act like this and it opened her eyes. Betsy was a catalyst. Her presence was changing people and giving them a direction. George came over and said, "The grave is filled." "Let's go home, honey. We have a lot to talk about," Bess said taking George's hand in hers. Looking old and tired, George said, "We've got nothing else to do except talk." The collapse of the economy was particularly difficult for him. He had been on the verge of retirement after having gathered a significant amount of wealth. All of that wealth had been in investments that now meant nothing. For most of his life, he had played the game of business and just when he thought he had won the game, he learned that he had lost. It had been devastating. "I know," Bess said. Betsy said, "Why don't you come over to the house later? I need to talk to you." Chuck came over and put an arm around Betsy. He said, "Thanks for suggesting that we come here." "My pleasure. I was just here talking to Father Murphy and, this lady, I didn't get your name." "Ann." "I'm really glad we came. You have some nice friends," Betsy said. "Let's go. You've got to be tired from your swim." "I wouldn't mind some time in bed," Betsy said while giving him a saucy wink. Betsy and Chuck, arm in arm, walked off to the car. The others watched them leave. Father Murphy said, "She's a remarkable young woman." "She's an amazingly complex person," Bess said. "About the time you think you've got her figured out, she shows a side of herself that you didn't even suspect existed." "She was raised with John Carter, Ed Biggers, and Reverend Leroy Jones. Just think of it. She learned the lessons of life from the first Grand Druid, the head of the Fusion Foundation, and a modern Christian Saint. She's lived around Druids her whole life. I'm not surprised she's a complex person," Father Murphy said. "She's so young," Ann said. Edited by TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 5 The cell phone rang. Thinking it was important, Betsy answered without checking the caller id. "Hello?" William said, "Hello, Betsy." "What's up?" "Just called to tell you to say: 'yes.'" "Yes?" Betsy asked. "Yes." Betsy said, "Okay. I say: 'yes.'" "You haven't been asked the question yet," William said. "What question?" "You'll know the question when you hear it," William said. "I hate it when you do this to me," Betsy said in frustration. William laughed. "By the way, you've done a great job there." "I haven't done much of anything." "Well, almost all of the important improvements to the situation, world-wide, have originated in Hawaii. I don't think there's much doubt as to why that is the case." "Why is it the case?" William answered, "Because that's where the catalyst is." "All I've done is talk to people. I didn't come up with the cell phone idea," Betsy said. "That's what a catalyst does. It's presence speeds up one possible reaction over others, thereby driving the results in a desired direction. Your presence there has done that," William said. "If you say so," Betsy said doubtfully. "By the way, I let the governor know that a Fusion Foundation ship is arriving loaded with seeds for crops that should be appropriate for Hawaii. Another ship with cooking oil, rice and flour has already docked." "That's great," Betsy said. "I'll let you get back to what you were doing," William said. "Thanks," Betsy said. After hanging up, she put the cell phone on the nightstand by the bed. Chuck ran a hand along her naked belly. She snuggled closer to him. "Who was it?" "My brother." "What did he want?" "He told me to say: 'yes.'" "Yes to what?" "To a question that I haven't been asked yet." "Then I take it that now might be a good time to ask you my question." "What question?" Betsy asked raising up to look at him. "Will you marry me?" Betsy stared at him. She hadn't expected that question. Her mind was running a thousand miles an hour thinking about how difficult a wedding would be to arrange in these difficult times. Worried, Chuck said, "Say: 'yes.'" "Oh!" Betsy shouted. Then she screamed, "YES!" Betsy then proceeded to kiss him passionately. Then she quite energetically conveyed her happiness at his proposal. ------- It was late that afternoon before things calmed down around the Betsy Carter household. Everyone had reacted with the appropriate excitement to the news that Betsy was engaged. Calls had been made to her family, to convey the news of the engagement. Her mothers were excited. Her fathers were concerned. Her brothers and sisters were happy for her. Betsy was seated in one of the lawn chairs in the backyard. The weather was glorious and perfect for being outside. She was enjoying the peace and quiet. Ben was seated in a chair next to her sipping some iced tea. He wondered how much longer they would have tea on the island. Betsy said, "I'm sorry we haven't had much time to talk since you got here." "You were busy," Ben said. "How was the flight?" Betsy asked. "It was great. I got you a lot of plane for the price you paid." "That's good." Ben was quiet for a moment and then said, "I'm really pleased to be here. The situation, where I was, might not have been as bad as in some of the larger American cities, but I would have been in pretty bad shape. One man, alone, who doesn't know many of his neighbors doesn't have much of a chance in situations like this. "It makes it kind of tough to join a group. Married men would view me with suspicion and fear that I would sleep with their wives. Single women would view me as an opportunist. Single men would view me as a competitor." "You aren't worried about that, here?" "Well, Captain Jack and Gary are both pretty confident men who don't view me as much of a threat. The women are all strong and unlikely to fall victim to a smooth talking man. In fact, Wheels kind of scares me. That's one confident woman, and rather plain spoken, too," Ben said. "She's been hitting on you?" "I wouldn't say that, although she has been rather suggestive at times," Ben said uneasily. "Suggestive?" Betsy asked. "Well, she makes comments," Ben said while shifting in his seat. "Comments?" "Yes. Little innuendos." "Innuendos?" "Would you stop that?" Ben said. Betsy laughed. "She's a big girl and can take care of herself. If she's interested in you and you're interested in her, there's no one who's going to stop you. Gary has a girlfriend and Captain Jack is interested in having a relationship with Debbie. I don't think the other women will get into a cat fight over you." "Then I guess there's no harm in going for a ride with Wheels, in her Mercedes Benz," Ben conceded weakly. Betsy burst out laughing. She tried to control it, but the more she tried, the harder she laughed. She'd look over at him again, and laugh even harder. Tears were flowing from her eyes. "What's so funny?" Betsy wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes, looked at him, and doubled over in laughter. Curious, Sam came over and asked, "What's so funny?" Helpless to answer, Betsy waved a hand at Ben. Ben said, "All I said was that I didn't see any harm in going for a ride with Wheels in her Mercedes Benz." Sam started laughing. The look of innocence on Ben's face made her think of a lamb being led off to slaughter. At least in his case, the outcome wouldn't be that bad. "What's so funny?" She managed to sputter, "There's no engine in the Mercedes Benz." "What are you talking about? How would we go for a ride in it, if there's no motor?" Ben asked. Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he hit his forehead with his palm, as he realized that the ride wouldn't involve the car moving anywhere. That was more than just a little innuendo. It was a blatant invitation. Recovering a bit, Betsy said, "I'm sorry. That's just too funny." "I guess it is," Ben said with a chuckle. "Are you going to take her up on it?" Sam asked. "I don't know," Ben answered with his eyes darting over at Sam "You should," Betsy said. "I'm going in the house," Ben said getting out of his chair. Once he was gone, Sam said, "Wheels could do worse. He's a handsome man." "Are you interested?" "Not at all." "Not even the least little bit?" "Nope." "I don't believe you," Betsy said. "I'm definitely not interested." "If you say so." "I say so," Sam said. "You're sure?" "One hundred percent." "I'm glad to hear that," Betsy said. Feeling unsettled, Sam said, "I'm going to get back to the garden." "Have fun pulling weeds," Betsy said with a smile. Sam returned to the garden and went after the weeds with a vengeance. It was obvious that something was bothering her. It didn't appear to have anything to do with Ben. At least, not directly. Talking to herself, Betsy said, "We could end up with an interesting little triangle, here. Wheels interested in Ben, Ben interested in Sam, and Sam interested Wheels. That could be a problem." She looked down the path, and spotted Bess and George walking up from the beach. They paused to examine the chicken coop. George stood there shaking his head at the idea of raising chickens, pigs, and a cow in that exclusive neighborhood. There was a time when he would have been running over to the town hall to complain. Now, that little bit of livestock made Betsy's people about the richest on the island. The elderly couple made their way over to where Betsy was now standing by her chair. She had just finished putting out another chair for them. "Have a seat," Betsy said. "Thanks," George said. Bess sat down and then said, "You mentioned that you wanted to talk to us?" Betsy realized George wasn't going to sit down until after she did. She sat down, and gestured to the empty chair. He took a seat and then looked at her expectantly. "I was intending to go over to your place later, and save you a walk," Betsy said. George said, "Bess told me that you swam here from Oahu, and got here late yesterday morning. I imagine that you're still pretty beat." "I don't really get tired. I do get real hungry, though," Betsy said. "We thought we'd save you a walk," George said. "That was very thoughtful of you," Betsy said. Bess asked, "What did you want to talk about?" Betsy waved her hand around, indicating the entire backyard. She asked, "Can you believe this? I've got a cow over there, and a pig penned up down by the tree line." "I saw them," George said. Betsy, suddenly remembering her manners, asked, "Would you like something to drink? Some iced tea or something?" "No, thank you," Bess said. "I'm fine," George said. "We'd really like to know what you wanted to discuss." Betsy said, "We need some help and were wondering if we could impose upon you a little." "What kind of help?" "Well, there's a lot of farm work that has to be done around here. There are animals to be fed, a cow to be milked, and eggs to be collected. In addition, we have to take care of the garden." Betsy wasn't about to mention that no one on the staff actually had a clue how to farm. Sam understood gardening, but that was far different than setting up and running a farm. The whole crew had sat around wondering what to do with the milk from the cow until Charlie had the idea of going to the internet. Somewhat indignant, George asked, "Are you asking us to be farm hands?" "No. Actually, we need a supervisor," Betsy said. "I'm not following you at all," George said. "Before the crash, I told the staff to spend every dime they had on something of real value. They pooled their money together and bought a small piece of land across the street. I would have advised them not to do that, if I'd known what they were going to do. There's a lot of places around here that are sitting empty. We could have gotten away with using that land, particularly if we shared the benefits with others in the area. However, they did it, and they can't undo it at this point in time. "Anyway, they now own this little bit of land. They also own all of the animals and seeds. It's not much, but the land is big enough for us to move all the livestock from my backyard ... which is great, because I really don't want to live on a farm. To tell the truth, I don't want my staff to become farmers, either. "According to Chuck, there's a young couple down the way who are pretty desperate. The husband used to take care of a number of places, around here. With the collapse in the economy, they don't have any way to support themselves. They have a baby and are worried about getting milk and good food for it. The staff figured that they'd have them work with all the animals, and put in another garden. We're not talking about a little truck farm, but a major farming activity. We are going to use some of the abandoned properties. They're going to need someone to supervise them." "I suppose we could do that," George said doubtfully. Betsy said, "The young couple also has a baby. They will probably need someone to watch over it while they're working. I figure there are a lot of young couples around in that situation, so someone is going to have to help get a daycare center up and running." "I could do that," Bess said. Seeing one major flaw in the offer, George said, "That's nice of you, but why not have your staff do it?" Betsy said, "I own interests in about three thousand little companies. Believe it or not, all of them are still operating. My brother invested my money in businesses like a trucking company, a canning company, and a couple of manufacturing companies. We're shipping food around on the mainland on behalf of the Fusion Foundation for the moment, but I expect to be growing the businesses before long. "I've got two little motels in rather strategic places. The big hotels around them shut down and they're all that are left operational where they are. I had seven motels, but I gave five of them over to the Druid College. Business isn't going to be very good, but they are the only places open at the moment and are getting some business from the truck traffic. "Debbie owns a fishing boat and will be trading fish for cell phone minutes. She's going to be busy with that. I'll be using the cell phone minutes from the sale of her fish to finish the recycling plant. We're going to be shipping some of the products to Los Angeles where another company of mine will be buying food. The ship will be bringing back flour and a few other little staples that we can't get on the island. "Some of my businesses will basically be operating at a loss, but I'm supporting them with food shipments originating from some of the other businesses I own. In a year or two, those businesses that are having problems will start to flourish." "Why keep them?" George asked. Betsy answered, "Because they are important in the long term. For example, the water treatment company that I own a major interest in will be the only company in the world that provides products in that market area. For the next few years, no one will be buying their product. If the company doesn't survive the next few years, then there won't be anyone able to provide a very necessary product. "When the economy has recovered somewhat, that company is going to be extremely important in preventing the spread of water-born diseases, such as Cholera. The whole world needs drinking water." George said, "That makes sense. I don't see how you are expecting to save it. How are you going to pay people when there's no money?" "Since our goods are things like food and other essentials, we can pay our people in things they need. In other words, we won't pay our employees in cash; we'll feed their family, and make sure they have a roof over their head. For a while, that will be more than enough to assure loyalty. "Right now, I'm focusing on growth. We'll contract with truckers and use our dispatching facilities to help move goods from places of abundance to places of absence. I expect to quadruple the size of all my companies over the next few years. "Anyway, managing all of that is going to require even more staff. As a result, I can't spare any of my current staff to run a farm." George had been staring at Betsy while she recited some of the activities in which she was currently involved. She was running a business empire that literally would leave her one of the wealthiest people in the world, by the time things got straightened out. "You've been busy over the past few months, haven't you?" "I've been a little busy," Betsy answered. "My brother is the one who has been really busy. He's been telling members of my family what to buy and we've just bought it." "I'm impressed," George said. Betsy said, "Anyway, getting back to the original subject of the farm. That's actually my staff's business. They felt like Bess could supervise everyone who's working on it." "Oh," George said somewhat dismayed that his wife was being offered the position. "Why me?" Betsy answered, "You've been supervising a staff for years around the house, so you've got real experience. It's not much different from what you used to do, although you will have to learn what's required to run a successful farm." "I guess I could try," Bess said with a touch of hesitation. Although he was pleased that his wife was being given this opportunity, George sank in his chair looking despondent. To have lost everything was a blow, but to not even be seen as fit to supervise a farm crew was almost too much to bear. "George, I was hoping that you'd join my management team to oversee a bunch of my businesses here on the islands. I've got to finish building the recycling plant, grow a fishing fleet, and set up a distribution company for our products. Don't forget, I'm still going to school and I'd like to get my degree." "What about Chuck?" George asked. Betsy said, "Actually, Chuck has a lot of investments in small companies too. He's running a minor empire now. Car repair places, grocery stores, and other businesses like that." Some of the businesses had not fared too well in the collapse. One of his grocery stores had been looted and then burned down by a mob of scared and angry people. He was on the phone with the owner trying to figure out how to recover from that minor disaster. "I'm impressed," George said. Betsy said, "At the moment, all of the huge international conglomerates are floundering around. The upper management teams are more worried about their own personal wealth than about the company. Local management is really not prepared to take over full operation of their facilities. They might be able to manufacture a product, but they are clueless about distributing it and transforming it into goods and services they can use to continue in business. The stock market is shutdown and may not ever re-open. Too much of the money managed within the large funds were invested in derivatives. Their assets aren't worth the paper they're printed on. Effectively, all of the large publicly held companies have ceased to exist. "As a result, Chuck is looking at getting access to their facilities. We're not going to own them outright, but we will provide sufficient resources to get the new owners through these rough economic times for a small share. Of course, a small share of a lot of companies is a lot of wealth." "I hadn't really thought about that," George said. Betsy said, "I believe in private ownership and partnerships. When the ship starts to sink, the captain who owns the boat will try to keep it afloat even when the crew is ready to bail." "That's an interesting way to look at it," George said. "It's not my idea," Betsy said. "I must say, I'm impressed with what you and Chuck have done," George said. "Don't be impressed with me. My brother is the smart one," Betsy said dismissively. "Still..." Betsy asked, "Will you join my management team?" "Definitely," George said. "Show up for breakfast tomorrow. After we're done eating, we'll get to work," Betsy said. "We'll be there," Bess said. George rose from his chair. He held out a hand to assist Bess in getting up. "We've got a lot to do today. We'll let you rest for a bit." "Thanks," Betsy said. After they had gone, Betsy leaned back in her chair and enjoyed the feeling of the sun beating down on her. ------- Betsy, Chuck, Sally, and Steve had moved chairs to the beach to watch the sunset. It was a quiet time and was a chance for the young couples to chat. In a way, living with the staff, all of whom were older than them, was a lot like being surrounded by aunts and uncles all of the time. It was kind of uncomfortable at times. Steve said, "I feel like I'm kind of useless." "You shouldn't feel that way," Betsy said. "Why not? What am I bringing to this household?" Betsy answered, "Sally is probably going to be one of the most important people on the island before long." "Me?" "Yes, you. They are going to open the fish farms along the shore again. You know what that means, don't you?" "No." Sally and Steve looked blankly at each other. This was the first they had heard of opening fish farms. "Parasites. If you have a lot of fish crowded together like that, then you'll have problems with keeping them healthy. Who knows more about that than you?" "No one," Sally answered. "That's right. Are you going to feel comfortable traveling all over the islands alone?" "No way," Sally said. "Who do you want beside you?" Betsy asked. "I want Steve!" "Let's face it, you and Steve are a team," Betsy said. "I like the sound of that," Sally said taking a hold of Steve's hand. "I'll be your guardian," Steve said feeling that was a worthy destiny. "You'll be more than that. You and Sally will be a real team," Betsy said. In a way, she envied Sally's expertise. The young woman had been studying an area that had real practical applications unlike a study of sharks. There was no doubt that sharks were important in the overall ecology of the oceans, but the application of the knowledge she would gain by studying them wouldn't help many people. Still, there was an intrinsic value to knowledge that didn't necessarily have a dollar price tag. Chuck said, "I've got a feeling that all four of us are going to be very busy for the next few years." "You can count on it," Betsy said. Steve asked, "What's next?" Betsy answered, "I've put George in charge of getting the recycling plant built. We're going to run out of fuel for the aircraft soon and we'll need everything the facility will produce. Chuck and I will be busy with that and running our businesses for a while." Chuck said, "We figure you and Sally should start the process of putting together fish farms along the shore. You're going to have to find people to put up stone retaining walls at locations where ocean water can fill the ponds. You'll have to get fish and stock the ponds. You'll also have to find an appropriate food supply to feed the fish." "That's going to be a lot of work," Steve said. Sally asked, "How will we pay people?" "Flour." "Flour?" Steve asked. "My father is shipping over several tons of flour from one of the farms in which I'm a part owner. I can pay people with flour, for now, until the farms start producing. The fish and crabs that you get out of the fish ponds will then cover the operating expenses," Betsy said. "So you're paying for it," Steve said. "I'm investing in it. I figure that I'll take ten percent, you'll take ten percent, and whoever you find to run each pond will take the rest," Betsy said. There were a lot of people who had once been wealthy living along the shoreline. Those same people had lost more than most when the economy collapsed. Betsy knew that they would jump on the opportunity to turn what little they owned into something that could produce a livelihood for them. "We're going to get a share?" "You're going to be teaching people how to build the ponds and operate them to produce salable quantities of fish and crabs. There's no reason for you to do it free," Betsy said. "I don't know how to build a pond," Chuck said. Betsy replied, "I found an old book on the subject in the library at the university. I checked it out. It is sitting on a shelf in my living room." "I'll read it," Steve said. "We'll read it," Sally said. Steve was silent for a moment thinking about what they were going to be doing. Although ten percent didn't sound like much, they could end up as partners in several hundred fish ponds. Obviously this wasn't a 'make work' project just to keep him out of their hair. He could definitely contribute something to this effort. Betsy interrupted his thoughts when she said, "My brother made sure that everyone in the family would have the resources on hand to help rebuild society. He knows that he has to restructure how the world does business starting at a very fundamental level. It is his hope that the world will have a fully functional economy in less than ten years. "The problems of the world will take a hundred years to solve. He's working on a far larger scale than I can comprehend. He's got to rebuild the economy, restructure international relations, and restore an infrastructure that has been in a state of slow collapse for fifty years. "I'm going to support him in doing that to my last breath." Chuck asked, "Where do the Gods and Goddesses fit into the picture?" Steve said, "That's a good question." Sally said, "I'd like to hear an answer to that question." Betsy said, "I doubt you'll find anyone who will argue that the world was headed in a horrible direction before John Carter invented the Fusion Cell. Oil was drying up, most of the world was at war, religious fanaticism was on the rise, and the environment was a wreck. "We now have a stable source of energy that can be moved to where it is needed. We have light, heat, air conditioning, and sufficient power to make things. My father, Ed, has always maintained that John had felt that the invention of the Fusion Cell was done as a service to the Goddess. I believe him. "Can you imagine what this crisis would be like without the Fusion Cell providing low cost energy to the masses? What if we were still on an oil based energy economy? This collapse would have killed the flow of oil. We'd have people freezing to death in their homes over the winter. Food would be spoiling rather than being stored in freezers. People would be huddled together in the dark at night, fearful of each and every sound they hear. We're managing to avoid falling into barbarism, but without the fusion cell that would be impossible. "The environment is cleaned up to the point where we can actually use the land again. There's good clean water. The air is pure. We can eat fish from rivers and lakes without having to worry about mercury poisoning. "Oscar Meyers ended the ability of rebels to use religion as weapon of war. His sacrifice did more than that. It forced people who had been at war with each other to step back and analyze the conflict much more closely. It ended a lot of ethnic conflicts that had little to do with religion. In the process, there are now communities that might be able to work together to overcome this economic crisis rather than decay into empty war zones filled with nothing except the skeletons of the dead. "The Fusion Foundation has offices around the world. It was founded by a Druid and is currently run by Druids and religious leaders from a number of other denominations. Food and supplies are moving to where they are needed. It didn't prevent people from panicking, but it has reduced the consequences of that panic, significantly. "There are Druids advising government leaders on how best to navigate these troubled waters. They are providing little nudges here and a shove there to keep things moving in a positive direction. If you think the death toll was bad, you can bet it would have been ten times worse without their efforts or the efforts of other religious leaders. "I'm sure that the Bards are spreading hints, tips, and news that will further speed up the recovery. You'll build the fish ponds here, but within a year that idea will have spread around the world to every place that has a shore line. Bards will be part of the delivery of that idea. "My brother has been actively preparing for this event. He's put into place thousands of little things that will speed up the recovery. He's got stockpiles of food, clothing, seed stock, and tools scattered around the world in huge warehouses. I would say that the Gods and Goddesses are being very active in resolving the problems we're facing." Steve asked, "Shouldn't they have moved to prevent it?" "It was inevitable that we'd have an economic crisis. Preventing it was impossible for the Gods and Goddesses, if men and women were to continue to have free will. Greed, irresponsible behavior, and gross ignorance have been running rampant for too long. It had to run its course, before it could be fixed. It has, so now the servants are working to fix the mess." "Wow," Sally said. Betsy said, "I think the Powers that Be have done an amazing job." "We have chosen good tools," an effeminate voice said from nowhere. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 6 Betsy took a seat at the head of the conference table in the modular office. Once again, she was dismayed by the barrenness of the office. There were six plain metal desks, three to each side of the room, facing the front door. The chairs were plain 'office mega-store discount chairs' that, in her opinion, were just plain ugly and looked uncomfortable. There weren't any partitions to give even a modicum of privacy. There were no personalized knickknacks or photographs on the desks. There weren't any pictures on the walls, except for one large map. It had the locations of all of her businesses, marked by small push pins. She wished they had at least put in a plant, or something to soften the stark appearance of the room, but there wasn't one. The interior of the office was not her doing. In fact, it embarrassed her. She had complained about the spartan decor of the office in the past; but, based on what she could see, her complaints had been ignored. Now it would be much more difficult, if not impossible, to improve the furnishings. Everyone ... four women and two men ... was at their desks getting ready for the briefing. On each desk, a printer was busy spitting out pages of reports, complete with tables and graphics documenting the status of her business empire. Heads were down while furiously typing stuff into the computers on their desks. She wondered what could have prompted the frantic last minute rush. The tension in the room was almost palpable. It made her wonder what kind of reputation she had with the people working there. She figured that they assumed she was some kind of ogre or something. She had no idea where they could have gotten that impression, unless it was from Catherine. She then noticed that there was an exercise bike in the back corner of the room. She moved over to it, climbed on, and started pedaling. She kept up a nice easy pace that wouldn't stress the capabilities of the bike. Replacements wouldn't be available for a while. Only two of the people in the room even looked up at her. Betsy sighed. She knew they were acting that way because the big boss was there for a briefing and each of them wanted to be noticed, but only in a positive way. They were seeking praise and not criticism. She was rather disappointed. She'd rather have one of them stand up to her in confidence than bow in obsequiousness to a stupid idea. She looked down at the speedometer, and saw that she was pedaling at forty miles per hour. She eased back her pace while trying to think pleasant thoughts. She thought about Chuck. For a few minutes, she was lost in a wonderful daydream about the previous evening spent with him. Her eyes glanced down to the engagement ring around her finger. Her smile grew so large that she looked like a maniac, grinning while pedaling madly on the bike. The soft whoosh of the door closing interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to see Charlie, carrying a portable hard drive. Charlie was looking around the room at the frantic activity. Looking pleased with what she was seeing, Charlie was nodding her head in approval. Betsy hoped that Charlie's management style wasn't as harsh as it appeared. Charlie went over to Betsy and said, "You're early." "I figured that I'd spend a few minutes getting to know folks," Betsy said. She knew very little about the people in the room and felt guilty about that. Between her romance, work, and research, the past few months had been very busy. Living and working on Oahu meant that she didn't have a chance to see them except on weekends and they weren't around on weekends. "There will be plenty of time for that," Charlie said. She went over to a computer and fiddled with the machine to get it started. She plugged the hard drive into it and watched while the operating system recognized it. "Before or after the meeting?" Betsy asked. "Either," Charlie answered. Betsy said, "I'd like to get to know them before we get down to business." "Fine," Charlie said glancing over at Betsy. She went over to the utility cabinet and pulled out the conference phone. She put the phone in the center of the conference table. Betsy asked, "Can I help with anything?" "No. Everything is under control." Betsy shook her head. She got off the bike and returned to take a seat at the head of the conference table. With her elbow on the table, she rested her chin on the palm of her left hand. She looked bored, but actually was unhappy with what she was seeing. Charlie finished setting up the room for the meeting. She looked around at everyone at their desks and then up at the clock. At exactly one minute before the hour, she announced, "Let's get this show on the road, folks." Moving almost as one, everyone got up from their desks, grabbed a stack of papers, and moved over to the conference table. Betsy watched them and shook her head. Thoughts of The Stepford Wives flashed through her mind. The printers were still belching pages. Once everyone sat down, Charlie said, "Let's work our way across the country from east to west." "Let's not," Betsy said getting up from her chair surprising everyone. "Why not?" Charlie asked. Instead of answering, Betsy walked over to the supply cabinet and removed a pad of paper and a pen. She returned to her seat and started tearing off sheets of paper from the pad. After taking a sheet of paper, she handed the stack of loose sheets to Charlie and said, "Take one and pass it around." Betsy folded her sheet of paper lengthwise. She then wrote her name on it. She carefully placed it on the table in front of herself. "Hello. My name is Betsy. As you can see by what I've written on my little piece of paper, here, you can call me Betsy. If that seems a little informal to you, then you can call me ... Betsy." Charlie colored a little from embarrassment. She hadn't thought to introduce everyone and forgotten Betsy's request even in the short time between Betsy suggesting that she have a chance to talk to everyone at the start of the meeting. She didn't realize that Betsy didn't really know any of them. She folded the paper lengthwise, wrote her name on it, and placed it in front of her. "Don't you mean, Ms. Carter?" one of the women asked. "No. The only name on my card, is Betsy. I don't see Carter anywhere on it," Betsy said while leaning over to read the her name upside down. "Okay," the woman said thinking this wasn't exactly what she was expecting. Charlie grabbed her card and scratched off her last name, before putting it back in front of her. The others around the table made little name cards with their first names on it. Once everyone had a name card in front of them, Betsy said, "Let me introduce myself a little more formally. I'm Betsy. I'm the big cheese ... the head honcho ... the big kahuna ... the lord and master of all that I survey. I'm sure that you'll all have nightmares about today's meeting, for years. We'll accept that as a given and get on to the business of introducing yourselves to me. "Charlie, it's nice to see you again. Tell us a little about yourself." Charlie stared at Betsy. She stuttered for a second and then said, "I'm Charlie. If she's the big kahuna, then I'm the little kahuna." Betsy asked, "What kind of hobbies do you have?" "Uh ... I don't really have any hobbies." "Have you thought about taking up knitting? I've been considering it," Betsy said. "No," Charlie said, looking puzzled. "I guess I can understand why you wouldn't. There really isn't much of a need for sweaters in Hawaii." "Right." "Where are you from originally?" "Ohio." "That's interesting. Did you ever visit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, in Cleveland?" Betsy asked. "Once. It was nice." "So how did a nice Ohio girl end up in Hawaii?" Betsy asked. Charlie stared at Betsy knowing that she knew exactly how she ended up there. She answered, "I joined the Marines, I got shot, I got sent to the hospital in Oahu, I heard about this job, and stayed here after I was discharged from active duty." "That's an amazing story," Betsy said. She turned to the woman seated next to Charlie and said, "I see that your name is Marge. Tell me a little about yourself." "I'm Marge and ... uh ... I work here," Marge said. "What did you do before coming to work here?" Betsy asked. "I've been temping ever since I graduated college." "Where did you go to college?" "University of Hawaii." "I go there, too. I'm studying sharks. What did you study?" "Business," Marge answered. "Are you learning anything on this job?" Betsy asked. "More than I ever learned in school. A lot of my professors talked and acted like they knew a lot about business, but I doubt any of them could have done a thousandth of what you've done, here," Marge answered. "Well, there's theory and then there's practice. You've got to know both," Betsy said. "I figured that out, real quick. I don't think a single one of my professors ever gave a moment of thought to what would happen when money became meaningless," Marge said. "I don't think anyone did." "You did." "I was lucky," Betsy said avoiding just how much she knew, how much she had figured out, and how far off some of her guesses had been. "I don't think luck had much to do with it." Betsy said, "Who knows? Robert, tell us a little about yourself." "Well, I'm Robert. I was salesman at a shop in the mall after graduating from college. It was the only job I could find, at the time. I'd still be there, probably, except it went out of business about two years ago. I started temping, and landed this job here. I've got to admit that the day I got this job was the luckiest day of my life." "What kind of store?" "What?" "What kind of store did you work in?" Betsy asked. "It was a mattress store." "Was it a good job?" "It wasn't that bad. Folks who came in looking for a mattress, were looking for a mattress. I would basically take the order. Most of the time it was kind of quiet. I guess it was the fact that it was quiet, is the reason the store went out of business." Betsy said, "That would be a safe bet." "Yeah." "Sherry, tell us a bit about yourself," Betsy said. "My ex-husband was a drunk. He killed a family in a car accident, and now he's in jail. I divorced him, and came to Hawaii on vacation. I loved it here so much, that I moved here and got a job with the temp firm," Sherry replied. "How long had you been married?" Betsy asked. "Two and a half long years." "I take it that the marriage wasn't a happy one." "Nope." "I'm sorry to hear that," Betsy said. "Hey, I'm a lot happier now." Betsy said, "Hello, Carol. Tell us a little about yourself." "There's not much to say. I'm a high school graduate, and got a job in an office as a clerk. The office went belly up, and I became a temp." "Are you married?" Betsy asked. "No." "I'm engaged to be married," Betsy said. Carol replied, "I don't want to be married. If I want to get laid, I go to Oahu and screw a tourist. He goes back to the mainland and brags about having bagged a local, and I go home happy that he's not going home with me. I'm happy the way I am." "I guess that's one way of looking at it," Betsy said. "Do I shock you?" "Not really. I've heard a lot of girls in college talk the same way," Betsy said. "Good for them." Betsy said, "Ann?" "I'm Ann and I used to work as a temp. Now I work for you." "Any hobbies?" "No." "What do you do for fun?" "I watch recordings of my soap operas." "That's it?" Ann shrugged her shoulders. "Jerry, would you like to tell us about yourself?" Jerry said, "I got a degree in English, and discovered just how much people value a degree in English. I got a job as a temp." "Do you have any hobbies?" Betsy asked. "I play tennis and I read." "What kinds of things do you like to read?" Jerry said, "I like to read just about everything." Betsy asked, "That's good. Have you read much that would be of help in this situation we find ourselves?" "No." "That's a shame," Betsy said. "Literature usually deals with more human issues, than societal ones." "I guess so, although my brother would argue that science fiction often deals with societal issues. I've never really thought about it." Jerry said, "Outside of that, I'm a pretty boring guy." "I doubt that. I guess we should get on to the business part of this meeting," Betsy said. "What do you think, Charlie?" Charlie said, "Yes. I guess I should explain that we've broken your holdings into six regions. Everyone here has responsibility for one region. We have broken the East Coast into two parts, the north and south. There is the eastern region, central region, western region, and west coast. The central region also includes your international holdings. The west coast region includes Hawaii." "That seems reasonable," Betsy said. "There's a lot of interaction between all of the regions so everyone has to work together to get anything done." "Okay," Betsy said. "I'll let Marge fill you in on what's happening in the North East Coast Region." Marge said, "You own over five hundred businesses in my region." "That's a lot," Betsy said thinking there was no way a single person could manage that many businesses. "You're telling me," Marge said. "So far, all of them are still in business. The food caches have helped a lot. "A couple of the places, in particular your warehouses, suffered damage during the first few days of the collapse. Some of the folks decided that raids on warehouses would be a good way to get a lot of necessary supplies." "I was pretty sure that would happen," Betsy said. "Nobody bothered the small manufacturing businesses. I guess you can't eat plastic or raw metal." "You might gain a little weight, but you won't get fat from eating them," Betsy joked. Nobody laughed. "There were massive riots all over my region. New York City, Newark, Boston, Philadelphia, and Baltimore were particularly bad. In New York City, it only took four days for people and stores to run out of food. I don't think most people realized just how dependent that city was on maintaining a constant flow of goods into it. "A lot of the 'have nots' figured that the 'haves' knew this was going to happen and had caches of stuff squirreled away in their homes. The result wasn't very pretty. They're still digging up bodies in New York City. The death toll there may reach a hundred thousand." Betsy said, "That kind of high density living just isn't a good thing. I imagine that a bunch of folks decided that it would be a good idea to head for the countryside." "That's right. More than half a million people fled New York City. Manhattan is a ghost town. I'd say that a good percentage of them returned to the small towns where they were raised. They might have hated small town life, but at least there was food. Some folks went to their summer homes thinking that a country environment where they could hunt and fish would improve their chances of survival. I'm sure there are others who decided to just take their chances on finding a place that would take them in. "You lost a number of employees as a result. The latest estimate is that about ten percent of the employees are dead, missing, or quit." "That's a shame," Betsy said. "So far, you haven't lost any critical personnel. The companies can still function." Betsy said, "Good. Are they functioning?" "It's a little too early to tell. Some of the manufacturing firms have started back up with limited production. The trucking companies are dispatching drivers to farms, food processing plants, and then on to distribution points. There aren't many trucks moving at the moment, but all signs indicate that more and more truckers are claiming ownership of the truck they were driving at the time of the fall," Marge answered. "I expected that," Betsy said. Marge said, "One of the owners of a manufacturing company that makes small Fusion Cells reported that a driver just showed up the other day with some of the raw materials that go into making the cells. He wanted to swap his goods for Fusion Cells. The owner looked at his inventory, then at the driver, and made the deal. His workforce is doing a bit more than just sitting around, now." "I'm glad to hear that," Betsy said. Robert and Sherry both gave reports of about the same depth and breadth. They told little stories of what was happening across their regions. There were signs that people were figuring out ways to get around the old reliance upon money, and were doing so in surprisingly clever ways. One middle class neighborhood had moved all of the fences from the backyards of their houses to the front yards. The now combined back yards had been turned into a single huge garden. Betsy turned to Carol and asked, "What do you have to report?" "Basically all of the same things that everyone else is saying with one major exception," Carol said. "What?" Carol nervously licked her lips as she answered, "Ken Watson, the owner of Tildon Frozen Foods, told me to tell you to take a long walk off of a short pier, and to quit bothering him." "He did?" Betsy asked. "Yes." "Why did he say that?" Carol answered, "He said that he had enough goods coming in and product going out that your help wasn't needed any more. He wasn't willing to put up with an absentee partner who wasn't doing anything." "He said that?" "Yes," Carol said. "What did you tell him?" Carol said, "I told him that he should reconsider that decision." "Did he?" "No." Betsy sat back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds. She pursed her lips. She rubbed her nose. Everyone was watching to see how she was going to react. "I want the telephone number to the truck dispatcher operating in that area," Betsy said. Charlie brought up a document on her laptop and projected it onto the screen across the room. Pointing to the screen, she said, "Here's what we have on Tildon Frozen Foods." Betsy looked at the screen. There was a lot of information present. She quickly noted that there was more than one trucking center serving the company. One company was routing trucks that were delivering fruits and vegetables. Another company was routing trucks that delivered material used to package the frozen fruits and vegetables. A third company was bringing in sugars and various spices. "You've got a lot of information there," Betsy said. Charlie said, "We've been gathering and updating it as the opportunity allowed." Betsy asked, "Who is the geographically nearest independently owned competitor to Tildon Frozen Foods?" Carol answered, "I don't know. I'd have to search for the answer to that." "Do so. I want the company's name, the owner's name, and contact information." Carol wrote down the request and looked up at Betsy expectantly. "Okay." Betsy looked at her and asked, "Well?" "Do you mean right now?" "Yes." Flustered, Carol scurried back to her desk and started typing frantically on her computer. While she was working, Charlie asked, "What are you going to do?" "I'm going to take care of the situation," Betsy answered. "How?" "I see no need to stay in business with someone who doesn't want me as a partner. I'm going to find a new partner," Betsy answered. "You don't want to talk to him first?" In a flat voice that allowed no argument, Betsy said, "No. He's history." "Okay," Charlie said, understanding why Betsy was saying that. Carol slid a piece of paper across the desk. Betsy glanced at it and reached for the conference phone. She dialed the number on the paper. "Hello?" "Are you Donald Webb?" Betsy asked. "Yes, I am." "My name is Betsy Carter." "What can I do for you?" "How's the frozen food business?" Betsy asked. "What business? I've had to shut the doors to my plant." Betsy said, "Why?" "Haven't you watched the news, woman?" "Yes. I'm fully aware of what's going on in the world. I'm not aware of what is happening where you are. That's why I'm calling," Betsy said. "I've got no money to pay anyone. I've got nothing to process, and nowhere to send it." Betsy said, "I've got a cache of food less than ten miles from where you're located. You can use that to pay people until something better comes along. There should be more than enough food for your workers to feed their families and to trade for essentials. "I'm part owner in sixty farms in your area who can send their produce to your business. I'm part owner in a company that provides the packaging material you use to wrap your product in. I own parts of two distributors who will accept your product. "The distributors will route to you goods that will be of value to the farms who are providing fruits and vegetables to you. You can also request some additional trade goods that would be of value, locally." Donald was silent for nearly fifteen seconds. Finally, he asked, "What do you want for all of this help?" "Ten percent of your business, as a more-or-less silent partner." "That's pretty steep. Any chance of making it five percent?" Betsy said, "No. I think that ten percent for saving your company is a good deal." "You're right. I'd be a fool to turn you down," Donald said. "You'd better be able to deliver." "I can deliver," Betsy said. "Okay. I'll do it," Donald said. Betsy said, "In about an hour, Carol will be calling you. She'll fax you an agreement. Sign it, and fax it back. She'll then tell you where the cache of food is located. "As a show of good faith, I'll start the trucks rolling in your direction immediately. They'll be there tomorrow. You might want to get to your office and get ready to start calling people in to work. You're going to be a very busy man over the next few weeks." "I hope so." After a short exchange of a few more details, Betsy disconnected the call. She then called the trucking companies. She was immediately put through to the owners. They respected her wishes and told her that all shipments to Tildon Frozen Foods would be diverted to Webb Produce. Betsy was pleased with the no nonsense exchange with her business partners. Betsy dialed the cell phone number of Ken Watson. "What do you want?" Ken answered. "I'm Betsy Carter." Angrily, Ken said, "I told that bitch of yours that I don't need you any more." Carol started to rise from her chair in anger, but Robert put a hand on her arm. She sat back down and glared at the phone. Betsy, in a voice so sweet that it would put sugar to shame, said, "Mr. Watson, I thought I would give you a courtesy call, to let you know that I accept your request to terminate our partnership." "Like you have any choice," Ken scoffed. "I also thought I would let you know that none of the farms that I own will be providing you with produce. None of the distributors that I own will be purchasing any of your products. None of the truck dispatching companies that I own will be sending any trucks to your company." Suddenly sounding worried, Ken asked, "What in the hell are you talking about?" Betsy said, "All of those fruits and vegetables that you've been getting are coming from my farms. The trucks delivering them to you are being dispatched by my truck dispatching company. I own the companies you've been sending your products to." "Wait a minute. Can't we talk about this?" "No. Our partnership is dissolved," Betsy said just before hanging up the phone. The entire staff sat there staring at Betsy with open mouths. They had never seen anything like that in their lives. Marge muttered, "Talk about cut throat." Jerry said, "You were kind of rough on him, weren't you?" "Not at all," Betsy said without rancor. "He lost my trust. I won't do business with people I can't trust." "You cut him to shreds." "No. I didn't cut him to shreds. I saved his business and then he unilaterally dissolved the partnership. I gave him what he wanted and then let him know the consequences. "If anyone gives you any problems, use good old Ken Watson as an example of what happens when someone gets greedy, and breaks their word to me." "Yes, Ma'am," Carol said. "Just call me Betsy," she as she pointed to the little name card, "That's what it says on this piece of paper." "Yes, Betsy." Betsy said, "On the other hand, if someone is honestly dealing with a major problem, do what you can to save them. Is that clear?" "Yes, Betsy." "Despite all of this unpleasantness, I'd like to expand my holdings in the frozen food industry." "How are you going to do that?" Charlie asked. Betsy said, "In about a month, I want Carol to tell Donald that he'll be able to get Tildon Frozen Foods for a can of beans. I'll even provide the can of beans. I'm sure that Ken's number two man will be more than happy to take over operations." Carol said, "Yes, Betsy." Jerry asked, "Aren't you being a little vindictive?" "No. The country needs the capacity that he now controls. You can't do business with a dishonest man, particularly at a time when a man's word is worth more than his bank account, or perhaps I should say his weight in gold. His company is going to go out of business, and it's not going to take all that long for it to happen. "Unfortunately, a lot of people who work for him will lose their jobs. I'm going to get control of that facility, and put people back to work. We can't do that with him owning it." "Still, a can of beans?" "That's what it will be worth a month from now. There's no need for me to pay more than fair market value for it." Marge muttered, "That's another lesson for me to learn." Betsy said, "Who's next to report on my slowly growing empire?" Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 7 Betsy was pacing around outside the construction site. The site engineer (Stan Kubrick) and one of the foremen (Jim Franklin) were there with her, wondering why she had literally dragged them away from their homes. Chuck was standing under a palm, enjoying the shade, while George was nervously licking his lips. A man wandered by and stared at the group for a second. Finally, he approached and said, "Hey, Jim!" "Hello, Kirk." "What are you doing here?" Kirk asked. He had been working on the recycling plant until all work came to a stop. It was a shame because the job had been steady and paid well. Now, he was doing whatever odd jobs he could for cell phone minutes and trading them for fish down at the dock. The truth was that he was getting pretty tired of eating fish. "I'm not sure," Jim answered. Showing up at his side, Betsy said, "We were waiting for you." "Me?" Kirk asked. Handing Jim a key, Betsy said, "Why don't you and Kirk go open the storage pod over by the main office?" "Why?" Jim asked. "I need a set of samples from it. I also need a table and chair from the office," Betsy answered. "What kind of samples?" Jim asked. "You'll see," Betsy answered with a grin. "Why should I do that?" Kirk asked. It wasn't that he had anything better to do, but he didn't want to get roped into a project and get nothing out of it. There were a lot of people who were asking for help and giving nothing in return. He had learned the hard way to negotiate the cost of his services up front. "Food." "Food?" Kirk asked. "Yes," Betsy answered. "Enough food to eat and to trade." "Sure, I'll work for food," Kirk said hoping he wasn't going to get stuck with more fish. The two men walked over to the storage pod. They didn't rush over to it. They took their time. They felt like they were wasting their time; and, as a result, they moved slowly to waste even more time. Chuck chuckled at how the two men were acting. Jim unlocked the pod and slowly opened the door. He was hit by a blast of cold air. He had not realized that the pod was refrigerated. He froze and stared at what was inside. Kirk looked over his shoulder and swore. "There's a fortune in here!" Kirk said. Jim pulled out a one pound bag of flour. "This is worth its weight in gold." "Damn! There are even packages of yeast in here. I haven't had bread in ages." "Eggs!" "Where?" Jim answered, "There's a bunch of cartons of eggs over there." "Eggs? I'd kill for an egg," Kirk said. "Condensed milk. There's condensed milk, too." "Are those bags of sugar back there?" "You're right," Jim said looking at where Kirk was pointing. Danny Rhodes walked over and said, "Hi Jim. The lady over there said you needed some help. She said that I could do some work for food." Jim handed Danny his keys to the office and said, "Hello, Danny. I need you to get a table and chair out of the office. Take them over to where the lady is waiting." "Sure," Danny said before heading over to the work site trailer. Jim asked, "Is there a box around here, Kirk?" Kirk walked off a few steps and came back with a beat up old box that had seen better days, but had enough structural integrity left in it to carry a sample of everything in the pod. The two men started loading the box with a lot more energy than either man had showed before. Both men got excited when they discovered the three boxes of vegetable oil. It didn't take long for them to set up the table and lay out the goods on it. Betsy watched with a critical eye. When they finished, all three men stepped back and surveyed all that was on the table. The quantity of food arrayed on that table was extremely valuable and they knew it. Two and a half weeks had eaten through the food reserves of almost every household on the island. The exceptions were the homes of a handful of survivalists, and a few Mormons. Betsy said, "Every man who works for a full day on the recycling plant will earn one bag of flour, one bag of sugar, two packets of yeast, two cans of condensed milk, six eggs, a bottle of cooking oil, three pounds of fish, and a recipe book." The recipe book had tips and hints conveying practical knowledge about storing and preserving food that had long been forgotten in the modern world. There was even a section on how to start a batch of sour dough starter that would allow people to make bread in the future without having to worry about sources of yeast. "You've got yourself a deal," Kirk said. Jim nodded his head. For Danny it was a no-brainer. His family had run out of food a week ago, and had been scraping by on an occasional fish that he managed to catch or trade cell phone minutes for. He could already taste a fried fish dinner with bread rolls on the side. They'd have pancakes tomorrow for breakfast. He said, "I'd work all day for half that." "I'm making arrangements to get some beef. Maybe we'll get that later this week," Betsy said. "Beef? Lady, I don't know who you are, but all you have to do is ask and anything I have is yours," Danny said. "All I want is a good day's work," Betsy answered. Jim said, "All right. Let's get to work. We've got a recycling plant to finish." Betsy turned to Stan and then said, "If you've got the numbers of the regular work crew, George can start making calls. You are back in business." "Thank God," Stan said. Betsy turned to George and said, "You're in charge. Make sure everyone works, and gets paid." "I'll make sure that everything goes okay," George said. "If there is any trouble, call me. I can be here in less than five minutes," Betsy said. "I will. Betsy walked over to Chuck. The two went down towards the dock, where the garbage scow was moored. She hadn't really had a chance to see it, much less inspect it and was curious about what she had purchased. Captain Jack was already over there looking it over. Chuck asked, "How long has that storage pod been there?" "Since the day before the fall," Betsy answered. "Have you got any more of them stashed around, somewhere?" Chuck asked. "A couple dozen. Each one is loaded with a different assortment of food. Tomorrow, I'll be handing out bacon, eggs, milk, flour, beans, butter, can's of spinach, and cans of fruit cocktail," Betsy said. "You'd better be careful or you'll end up with a food riot," Chuck said. Betsy said, "I can guarantee you that the crane operator will dump a girder on anyone who tries to steal their food." Chuck laughed and said, "I guess I'm worried about nothing." "You're right to be worried. There are a lot of desperate men and women running around the island at the moment," Betsy said. Chuck said, "You know, there was a time not too long ago that if you told someone that you'd pay them with that little bit of food that they'd have laughed at you." In the days before the bank collapse, people budgeted a couple hundred dollars on groceries for the month. Working for Betsy for a month, they would be getting a couple hundred dollars worth of groceries. "With nobody paying rent or a mortgage any more, and just about every other bill that would have shown up in the mail, gone; that little bit of food, is about the same as the wage they would have earned back then. Nobody may realize it, yet, but everyone is basically debt free." "Now that you mention it..." Chuck said thoughtfully. In a way, a lot of people had a higher net worth now than before. There were an awful lot of people who had a negative worth at time of the financial collapse. Now they were worth nothing. In a sad way, being worth nothing wasn't all that bad. With the lending institutions wiped out, there was no way to collect any outstanding debt. Any bank that tried for even a minute to collect on a loan would find a line of angry people wanting to get their money back from the bank before they laid out one dirty penny as payment on a loan. Anyone showing up to repossess a house or car would probably disappear forever. All of the major financial investment firms had all gone belly up. They traded in publicly held stocks, swapping digital money for paper slips of ownership while taking a bit off the top. Digital money was gone. The companies on which those paper slips of money conveyed ownership were gone. There was nothing to trade and nothing to skim. Insurance companies, which had the majority of their assets in the stock market, were wiped out with the collapse. They couldn't pay off even the smallest claim out of petty cash if they had to. No one was going to send them money even if they had it. The major financial corporations might still exist in the eyes of the law, but the ability to enforce any banking laws had disappeared. Seven billion people, worldwide, weren't going to be taken for a ride by any institution that had blown it that badly. Anyone foolish enough to try and buy the assets of any bank, stock, or insurance company would find they had bought nothing except air. How many cell phone minutes was a dollar worth? How many cows would pay off a mortgage? The fact of the matter was that the dollar was not backed by anything other than the good word of the government. Now, in the matter of the dollar, the government's word was worthless. As a practical matter, effectively all debt had been forgiven. He said, "It's like someone hit a great big 'reset' button in the sky." "Yes, it is," Betsy said. The pair walked towards the dock holding hands. A few people checked them out, but it was more to see if they were a danger, than to see if they would be easy victims. There were a few places that were open for business. A small stand selling pineapples was open with a few people trading cell phone minutes for pineapples. Someone had killed a wild pig and folks were lined up to get some meat. Not everything was privately owned. There was a government stand that was distributing processed cheese in exchange for cell phone minutes. There had been emergency stockpiles of food in the event of a major catastrophe. The Governor had essentially declared the economic meltdown a major catastrophe, and had ordered the food to be distributed. There was also a long line in front of one of the government offices where people were getting work assignments for the day. The cleanup of the damage caused by the riots had been completed. Now, the state was paying people to improve the infrastructure. Roads were being repaired, parks were being landscaped, and empty buildings were being modified or torn down. Chuck looked at the line in front of the government office. It seemed to him that the state was giving out a lot more minutes than there was food to buy with them. Chuck asked, "What's going to happen when there's no food to buy with cell phone minutes?" "Another Fusion Foundation ship will be here any day now. They're bringing in a lot of food, and it will be turned over for distribution. The Governor is going to put people to work all over the island," Betsy said. "Doing what?" "I don't know. I talked to the Governor and told her that it was her problem," Betsy said with a smile. "You just keep stirring the pot, don't you?" Chuck said with a smile. Betsy said, "You bet." "So is the Fusion Foundation trying to make a profit off the food?" Chuck asked. "No. It's just to keep lazy people who won't work from getting access to food they don't deserve. The Fusion Foundation will pay people to work, they'll buy some stuff from the island, and they'll turn back cell phone minutes to the state," Betsy answered. "What about people who can't work?" Chuck asked. "One of the Governor's projects is to perform a survey to identify the elderly and infirm. Anyone who can't work will be given an allotment of minutes to pay for food and to pay for someone to provide them with assistance. She's way ahead on that issue," Betsy said. "That's good." "I don't know. I'm sure some of what she's doing is going to turn out to be wrong, but at least she's doing something," Betsy said. "I'm really worried about food," Chuck said. "There's more than enough food for everyone. It's just that the food is not where the people are. The Fusion Foundation is helping to solve that problem. They'll keep at it until more folks realize that they can be part of the solution. It'll take a little time, but the Bards are on it," Betsy said. "What do you mean about folks becoming part of the solution?" "Well, there are empty trucks sitting around, because the drivers know no one is going to pay them. However, a couple of drivers will figure out that they can go to the source of some product, trade for it, and then move it to where the product is needed. It won't be long before thousands of truck drivers become old fashioned traders, buying and selling goods while moving around the country. My dispatching company is working to make that happen. "People who run warehouses are going to think about all of the merchandise sitting in those warehouses. One day, they'll unlock the door and confiscate it. Right now, it's basically salvage. They'll be selling goods out the backdoor before you know it and buying stuff for when the market is better. A few factory managers will figure out the same thing. They'll start the production lines again." "How do you know that?" Betsy answered, "It happened in Argentina back when its' economy collapsed. People moved into old abandoned businesses and restarted them. One group took over a bakery that had been closed by the banks and started baking bread. They were selling it to local customers and making quite a bit of money in the process. People are people. If it worked there, it will work here." "That's not what I'm asking. I'm asking how you know what's going on?" Chuck said. "I've got three thousand owners of companies who are sending me reports on what's going on with their business. There's a gold mine of information in those reports. One of the managers reported that a truck showed up at his warehouse with the driver wanting to trade the food in his truck for cell phones. Another truck showed up at another place with some of the raw materials for making fusion cells and was willing to trade what he had for some fusion cells." "I suppose I ought to talk to some of the managers of my business about what they're seeing," Chuck said. "You aren't talking to them?" Betsy asked incredulously. "I've been talking to them, but just in general terms of how the business situation is where they're located. They are getting products to sell and people are buying them with whatever is serving as the local currency. I just didn't think to ask about how it is that the products are showing up," Chuck said. "I guess my companies are placed slightly differently than yours," Betsy said. Chuck said, "My car repair shop is a good example. A customer comes in with a car that needs repair. The manager figures out what is wrong with the car, finds out what he can trade to get the part to fix it, and then quotes an item or two to the customer. The customer comes back with the requested items. "Right now, most of the parts are still in stock so asking how they got the part just doesn't make sense." "I didn't think about that," Betsy said. Chuck said, "Just think about back at the recycling plant. Not one person asked you where you got the food. If they had, the answer that you had purchased it before the fall wouldn't have helped them any." "That's true." "Haven't you been curious about the return of local television?" Chuck asked. "Not really," Betsy said. "I now own part of it. Based on our conversations about what might happen, I made sure that there was enough food stockpiled to pay people to show up to work," Chuck said. The television station was serving an important role in maintaining peace. The Governor was using it to broadcast a state of the islands message every other day. There was a little news coverage of what was happening on some of the projects taking place on each of the islands. They were also playing movies to provide a little entertainment. "I didn't know that," Betsy said. "I guess my big concern is what I'm going to do when I run out of food. The television station isn't selling any commercials." "That is a problem," Betsy said. "I've been thinking about doing what the public stations do and having a fund drive," Chuck said. "That's dangerous territory," Betsy cautioned. "Why do you say that?" "The distinction between a for profit and a not for profit enterprise has blurred a little bit lately, but that won't always be the case. If you start asking for donations, then people will assume that you are a not for profit enterprise. When things get better, you'll basically lose your business as a business. "You'd be better off charging the Governor for her airtime." Chuck snorted. "We tried that. She threatened to take it over for the duration of the emergency. I'm not that enamored with a state run television station." "I didn't think about that," Betsy said. They had arrived on the dock. The garbage scow was moored right where it was supposed to be. Captain Jack was easy to spot. He was looking into the engine compartment. It was called the engine compartment even though that was where the fusion motor was housed. Captain Jack explained that the practice was a lot like calling the two sides of a boat port and starboard. Betsy had countered that it was more like calling the toilet the head. Chuck looked at the ship. "That's one ugly ship." "You can say that again," Betsy said dismayed by what she was looking at. The garbage scow was basically a barge with a pilot house and a fusion motor. Betsy figured that she was going to have to give up the idea of using it to take unfinished outputs of the recycling plant to the facility on the mainland. "This is a disaster," Betsy said. "It might not be that bad." "Come on! Look at it. That's the ugliest thing I've ever seen." "Let's see what Captain Jack has to say about it," Chuck said. The two went aboard the ship. Captain Jack, having seen them approach, went over to the gang plank to greet them. He could tell by the expression on Betsy's face that she wasn't happy. "What's the prognosis?" Betsy asked. "Not bad," Captain Jack answered. "What do you mean, not bad? This will never make it to the mainland," Betsy said. "Sure it will. I know she looks like hell, but she's a rugged little craft. The motor looks good, the electronics work, no parts are missing, and she floats. There's nothing fancy about her, but she'll do the job," Captain Jack said. "Would you captain it?" Chuck asked. "I probably would if I didn't have the Bloated Shark," Captain Jack answered. "You're kidding?" "No. She's seaworthy. You could do a lot worse than her." "Who can we get to captain her?" Betsy asked. Captain Jack pointed to a man standing at the far end of the dock watching them. From his body language, it appeared that the man wasn't happy to see them aboard the ship. "That fellow over there would take this ship in minute." "Who is he?" "Peter Fox. He's the former captain of this vessel," Captain Jack answered. "Go talk to him. Tell him what we need and if he's willing to do it, hire him," Betsy said. "Don't you want to talk to him?" "I wouldn't know what to ask," Betsy answered truthfully. She had not hired Captain Jack, the university had hired him using whatever mysterious process schools used to hire captains of seagoing vessels. She did have Gary and Stacy perform a background check on him. Passing the background check was a condition on his employment which the school accepted as necessary for assuring the safety of one of its students. "Okay," Captain Jack said. Betsy watched him walk down the gang plank. She turned to Chuck and shrugged her shoulders. He understood her gesture for what it was, a sign that she was well outside her comfort zone. "I'd trust Captain Jack's opinion on the matter," Chuck said. Betsy replied, "Me, too. I'm just a little underwhelmed by all of this." "I don't blame you there, but you never know. This may be a jewel in the rough," Chuck said. "I'm not the one who can polish it into something I'd wear around my neck," Betsy said looking around the ship in disgust. It really was an ugly thing. "Same here. Maybe you ought to give the captain a majority interest in it and let him do all of the work." Betsy watched Captain Jack talking with Peter Fox. Both men looked animated, but not in a negative way. In fact, it looked like Peter was happy with what he was hearing. There was a lot of head nodding going on. She said, "That's not a bad idea. I think I'll make the same deal with him, as I have with Debbie." "That's generous of you," Chuck said with a smile. "It would save me a lot of headaches, and just looking at this ship gives me one." Chuck laughed. Standing behind her, he put his arms around her waist, and kissed her neck. She snuggled into him amazed at how such a simple gesture left her feeling warm and happy. As far as she was concerned, he could do that all day long. Captain Jack and Peter Fox finished their discussion and both men headed towards the ship. Peter Fox was a tall thin man. Betsy considered his walk to be more of a lope that had to be slowed down so that Captain Jack could keep pace with him. There was an undercurrent of energy to the man that Betsy liked. "They're coming over here," Betsy said. Chuck could feel the slight shifting of her muscles under his arms. It was a kind of tensing as if preparing for the unexpected. No one watching would notice it, but it always happened when she was about to meet someone new. He released his hold of her, and she immediately stood up straighter. They waited for the two men to reach them with Chuck moving to stand beside her. Captain Jack said, "Betsy, this is Captain Fox. Peter, this is Betsy Carter. She'll be your boss." "Nice to meet you, Ma'am. I'm looking forward to be in command of this lovely lady once again," Captain Fox said. Betsy said, "You won't be working for me." "What?" Captain Fox said feeling a mixture of emotions that was impossible to describe. "What?" Captain Jack said shocked by Betsy's announcement. Betsy said, "You're going to be the majority owner of this ship. I'd say sixty-forty with you owning sixty would be fair." "What?" Captain Fox said. Betsy said, "I said that you're going to be the majority owner of this ship." "That's mighty generous of you," Captain Fox said still reeling from the offer. Betsy said, "You'll captain the ship, hire the crew, and take care of seeing that the freight gets from here to the mainland and back. You'll be running the show, for the most part. I'm pretty much of a hands off kind of manager unless you start making major mistakes or are dishonest in your dealings with me. Then I can be a nasty bitch. "I'll help by making sure that there are goods on the mainland for you to bring back here. At the moment, I don't have any freight for you to haul from here to there, although I suspect that one of the pineapple plantations on one of the other islands has a bunch of canned pineapples waiting to be hauled to the mainland. You might want to check into it. "However, when the recycling plant is finished, you'll be taking waste that can't be processed there to Los Angeles. You can trade that waste for whatever would be of value back here on the island. My staff oversees a dispatching company. They can make sure that a good cargo is waiting for you. You'll get a good deal on goods." Captain Fox nodded his head. He'd had thoughts of doing the same thing, but alone. He was well aware that one of the pineapple plantations had a bunch of canned pineapples sitting around. His plans had assumed that he'd be liberating the ship from the new mystery owner. Of course, he had thought the new owner was some big corporation back in the states rather than a private individual here on the island. He stuck out a hand and said, "You've got a deal. I promise you that you won't regret it." Betsy shook his hand and said, "I'm sure I won't regret it. Talk to Captain Jack about provisions. He can outfit you." "I'll get my crew together and we'll be sailing out with the tide in two days," Captain Fox said while patting the side of the vessel affectionately. Betsy watched him caress the vessel with disbelief. She didn't even want to touch the thing. Based on his feelings for the ship, she felt that she had the right man in charge of it. After wrangling out a few details, Betsy and Chuck left the ship. "Let's swing by the recycling plant, and see how things are going," Betsy said. "That's okay with me," Chuck said. Betsy tensed up when they approached the recycling plant. With his arm around her, he could feel it and knew something was bothering her. "What's the matter?" "I didn't hire those bastards to stand around and talk," Betsy said pointing to where a group of men were gathered talking. "Yes, you did," Chuck said. "No, I didn't. I hired them to build the recycling plant. They're just standing around doing nothing." Chuck replied, "They are doing what they should be doing. That site has sat there for over two weeks. There's been riots in the area. They've got to inspect the site to make sure that nothing was damaged, plan the next steps to take, and then organize the men to do it. That is going to involve a lot of talking and very little physical work at this point." "Oh," Betsy said. "Even once they start pouring concrete and hammering nails, there's always going to be lots of talking involved. They have to plan the whole job so that things get done in the proper order. That prevents them from having to tear out something because it gets in the way of something else that has to be done. They have to plan each task in terms of what is needed, how long it is going to take, and what problems might arise. It makes sure the task is performed efficiently and safely. "This is a big job and it could turn dangerous at a moment's notice. If the crane operator moves the crane on uncertain ground, then it could tip over and kill people. You don't want that." "No, I don't." "So calm down and let them do the job the way they know how," Chuck said. "You're right and I'm wrong," Betsy said. "I'd never put it that way," Chuck said. "How would you put it?" "I just know different things than you do, and we just stumbled onto an area where I'm more knowledgeable." "That sounds better." Chuck said, "I like that we know different things. It's like we complete each other." Edited By TeNderLoin ------- Chapter 8 Chuck stepped into the manufacturing facility. It was a machine shop that produced 'one off' kinds of products; usually, parts to repair equipment used in other manufacturing facilities. It had filled a niche market, prior to the collapse. He had purchased a five percent share of the business about a month before the collapse. The owner, Al Lynch, had run short of capital when trying to purchase a couple of very high precision machines in order to support a contract with one of the other manufacturers. Chuck had learned about the company after Al had tried and failed to get a loan from American Bank. Al had felt like he was dealing with the devil having to give up a percentage of his company just to expand his business. Chuck had given him more than he had asked, making the suggestion that he replace or repair his existing equipment along with purchasing another fusion cell to power the facility. Betsy followed him into the place. She turned around slowly in place and looking at all of the equipment located there. She didn't know what half of it did, but she was impressed, none-the-less. It looked, to her, as though they could make anything that needed to be made. The owner walked over them and asked, "Can I help you?" "I'm Chuck Cole." They had to talk in loud voices to be heard over the noise of machines turning metal stock into metal products. It wasn't deafening, but it was loud. "It's a real pleasure to finally meet you. I don't know what we would have done without your help," Al said reaching out to shake Chuck's hand. The two men had never met face to face. They had talked several times over the phone and their business with each other had been handled through lawyers. "It's nice to meet you, too," Chuck said while shaking hands. "Al, this is my fiancee, Betsy Carter. Betsy, this is Al Lynch." "Nice to meet you, Ma'am." "Call me, Betsy," she replied with a smile. "This is a nice place you have." "Thank you," Al said. "I see that you've got a few people at work here," Chuck said. Al said, "It's not all that busy, but at least we're still in business. I'm making some parts for some of the earth moving equipment owned by the state." "Good," Chuck said. "I sure was happy to discover that the pod you had delivered on the morning of the crash, contained food. The folks working for me were overjoyed, as well." Al had pulled into the parking lot the morning of the crash to discover a large storage pod sitting in the middle of the lot. He'd been ready to tear someone a new asshole, when he saw that his name was on the storage pod. Not expecting anything to be delivered, he had opened it to discover that it contained a variety of foods. He'd been puzzled, until he heard on the news about the bank collapse. "I'm glad it served its purpose," Chuck said. Al said, "I'm sure you didn't come all of the way out here on a social call. Let's go in the office and get down to business." "That's fine with me." Betsy and Chuck followed him into a small office located off of the work floor. The noise disappeared when the door shut behind them. There was a sense of sudden relief at being in a quiet place, again. Al gestured to two chairs by his desk. He went around and stood by his chair. He waited to sit until after Betsy had taken a seat. Betsy noticed his good manners. "What can I do for you?" Al asked. Betsy said, "We need farm equipment." "Farm equipment?" Al asked surprised by her answer. "Yes. There are folks all over the island trying to plant gardens of sufficient size to feed themselves. That requires farming equipment. Unfortunately, that equipment doesn't exist here on the island. We need someone, locally, to make it," Betsy said. "I can make it, if I know what needs to be made," Al said. Betsy held up a briefcase and then put it on the desk. She said, "I had a couple of students from the Druid College make up some plans for general purpose farming equipment appropriate for the kind of small scale agriculture we expect to see here." "Plans from the Druid College," Al repeated rather surprised. He had expected her to tell him to copy some existing product. "I own them," Betsy said. "Nice," Al said. Betsy said, "I've got little shops on the mainland making them, as well." "I'll look at the plans and give you an estimate on how much it will cost." Betsy shook her head. "No. You'll take the plans and start making equipment. There's a place down the street that will be a distributor. You'll need to work out a good agreement with him." "You're giving me these plans?" "Well, Chuck already owns a percentage of this place. If he didn't, I'd be negotiating for a percentage," Betsy answered. "What about the distributor?" Al asked. "Now that ... Let's just say that I've already negotiated for ten percent of it," Betsy said with a smile. Al exhaled loudly. He said, "I'll need metal." Betsy said, "Who is your regular provider?" "Dick's Metals." "Guess what?" "You own a percentage of that," Al said. "Ten percent," Betsy answered. "Where will he be getting his stock from?" Betsy said, "The recycling plant." "Let me guess, you own ten percent of that." "No. I own eighty percent," Betsy said. "My dad owns the other twenty percent." Al asked, "How many companies do the two of you own parts of?" Betsy said, "I've got a handful over three thousand." "I've got about sixty," Chuck answered. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "She started before I did." Al sat there studying the two young people sitting in front of him. He wasn't sure if he was dealing with organized crime or just two brilliant young people. Once again he was wondering if he'd made a deal with the devil. "How can I trust you?" "I serve the Two-Sided One," Betsy said. "Does that help?" "Druid?" "I'm a Catalyst." "What's that?" "Someone who makes things happen, just by being there," Betsy answered. "Like what you're doing here?" Al asked. Betsy shook her head. "No. This is business. I keep my business and my service completely separate." "How do you do that?" Betsy said, "I ask for nothing when I'm performing a service to or for the Gods and Goddesses." "Okay, I guess." Betsy asked, "Any more questions?" Al shook his head and then said, "If I have any questions, I'll call." "Good," Betsy said. "Let's go." Chuck said, "Thank you for meeting with us." "You're welcome. Let me get the front door for you," Al said rising from his desk. They followed him out to the front door. He held it open and let them out. He watched them stand in front of the building. He didn't know what to make of them. "Where to now?" Chuck asked. "I want to check on the sharks," Betsy answered. Al stared at her wondering what sharks she was talking about. He closed the door and raced back to his office. He wanted to see what the students from the Druid College had designed, and what would be involved in its construction. He opened the briefcase and pulled out the blueprints. He studied them for several minutes. "This is brilliant!" ------- Colonel Stewart watched Betsy walking towards him. She was holding hands with someone he had never seen before. He cocked an eyebrow studying the young man. He didn't seem to be the type who could keep up with a young woman who raced around on roof tops, leaping from building to building. He said, "I've been watching the rooftops for your return. I'm disappointed you chose to keep both feet on the ground." Chuck looked puzzled. Betsy laughed. "I'm heading over to my office." "I guess you don't see a need to rush to work." "Actually, I'm looking forward to spending a little time in lab," Betsy replied. "Who is the young man with you?" "This is my fiancee, Chuck Cole. Chuck, this is Colonel Stewart." "Nice to meet you, Chuck." "It's an honor to meet the man who saved the university," Chuck said. Colonel Stewart frowned at the reminder of the worst night of his life. Firing upon Americans was the most distasteful thing he had ever been called upon to do. Only now had he come to realize the true treasure he had been guarding. He thought it was a crime that the people in power had allowed the situation to get so bad that such an action was necessary. "I'd rather not talk about that," Colonel Stewart said. "I understand," Chuck said although he didn't truly understand. "So how are things going here?" Betsy asked. Colonel Stewart said, "The faculty and students have been returning to the university. We've been talking to them to make sure that they have a legitimate reason to be on the campus. It's kind of amazing to see what these folks are working on." "Like what?" "There was a young woman and young man in here earlier today discussing the possibility of bringing back ancient fish ponds, as a source of food. With minds like that hard at work, here, there's a real possibility that my kids will have a decent life in the future." "You must have met Sally and Steve," Betsy said. "You know them?" "Yes. She's a very close friend of ours. She's going to be my maid of honor at my wedding," Betsy said. "She's a smart one," Colonel Stewart said. "The Governor was here, yesterday. She was putting some task force together on providing her with advice on how best to navigate this situation." "I told her she should get a Bard here to advise her," Betsy said. "That's not a bad idea. Why not a Druid?" Betsy said, "Nobody understands human nature better than a Bard. If you want to set up some rules that folks can follow, it's best to have someone around at the time, who understands people. Otherwise, you'll have some pretty stupid shit getting spouted." Colonel Stewart looked like he was going to choke when Betsy mentioned stupid shit. It was so unexpected. Betsy continued, "You know how it is when it comes to a stupid idea, and committees. Everyone jumps on the stupidity bandwagon, proclaiming it to be brilliant." "I've encountered that phenomena several times in my career," Colonel Stewart said. Sounding like an airhead, Betsy said, "Let's pass a law that says that everyone has to love everyone else. That will solve all of our problems. People will be nice to each other, they'll help each other, and then we won't need policemen. We'll all live forever and happily ever after." "You sounded like my old sociology professor there for a minute," Chuck said with a laugh. "I've heard people say things like that to me," Colonel Stewart said. A lot of people viewed the military as loving war rather than wanting peace. They didn't know the young men and women in the services very well if they believed it. Most of the people in the military wanted to put in their time serving their country by ensuring the peace, and then to get on with the rest of their lives. Betsy said, "People like that should talk to my father Ed about evil, sometime." "Your dad has seen things, huh?" "My dad has fought serial killers, white slavers, racists, and child abusers. There's evil in this world. It's there even if you choose not to acknowledge it." "I can't wait to meet your parents," Chuck said dryly. He knew that her family had a number of larger than life characters in it. Some of the stories the staff had told him were rather unbelievable; but they all spoke about it in such a matter of a fact manner, that he was inclined to believe them anyway. Colonel Stewart asked, "Aren't they here on the island?" "No, they're in Arizona." "There's not much of a chance of meeting them, now," Colonel Stewart said. "They'll fly out here for the wedding. My moms, dads, brothers, and sisters will all show up for that. There's no way they'd miss it." Colonel Stewart asked, "Aren't you forgetting the current situation?" Chuck answered, "She's not forgetting it. It's just not an issue." "You might not want to get your hopes up too high. I don't think there's a single airline in operation, now," Colonel Stewart said gently. He had experience with young women who set their hopes too high for the wedding and turned into absolute monsters when things didn't turn out well. He felt that a lot of women weren't exactly rational when it came to their wedding. He could imagine Betsy wanting the 'big wedding' with hundreds of people in attendance, the white dress, the big cake, and a reception that would be the envy of all of her friends. With the economic meltdown, that wasn't going to happen. "My father Dan owns one, if I'm not mistaken. It should be in operation between the major cities, by now," Betsy said. "Your father Dan?" Colonel Stewart asked thinking she had just been talking about her father Ed. "Yes. He's a computer genius," Chuck said. "He invented the Raptor and Thor line of computers." "He may own an airline, but it isn't flying to the islands yet," Colonel Stewart said still trying to be the voice of reason. Betsy said, "I'm not worried about getting them here. In the worst case, I've got an airplane large enough to get all of them here in two or three trips. I have a pilot who knows some of my family. He will enjoy ferrying them all here." "I didn't realize that," Colonel Stewart said. Betsy said, "I'm going to have a wonderful wedding." "I'm sure you will," Colonel Stewart said confident that she would be disappointed. It was a short while later when Betsy and Chuck made it to her office. There on her desk was a Raptor 9000 loaded with software written by Henry. She turned on the machine and waited for it to boot. It was a wait of just a few seconds, but it seemed like longer than that to her. Chuck looked at the machine with envy. He really didn't have a need for a machine of that power, but like most men that didn't matter. He wanted it. He knew his desire was a testosterone kind of thing, but that didn't diminish his longing for the machine at all. She went to her email program and looked over the messages others had sent her. She was disappointed despite having expected what she read. "It looks like no one will be sending me genetic samples anymore." Chuck said, "You predicted that would happen." "I know. It's still a little sad," Betsy said. "Do you have enough samples to finish your research?" Betsy answered, "I've actually got more samples here than I had anticipated. It won't have too negative of an effect on my research results." Betsy started the tracking program. She looked at the monitor studying the map of the pacific that was on display, and fiddled with the mouse. She nodded her head when she saw what she was looking for, and smiled. "None of my tagged sharks are anywhere near the islands," Betsy said. "That's what you expected, wasn't it?" "Yes, but it's nice to have it confirmed." "What now?" Betsy answered, "I'll go out next week and tag some more sharks." "How long will you be gone?" "About five days," Betsy answered. She figured that would be long enough to tag another five or six sharks. She wanted to have enough sharks tagged that she could make the argument that none of the Mako sharks stayed around the island year round and that the islands were just a rest stop on a long voyage across the Pacific Ocean. She figured that fifty to sixty sharks should make a convincing argument. Chuck said, "I'll worry about you." He had heard from Paul and Sue about how Betsy had dodged a bullet and totally destroyed a Russian special forces man. He believed the story, but still felt that it had been a fluke. He had heard from Captain Jack about her swimming with sharks in the midst of a feeding frenzy. It may have been true, but he had a hard time believing it. No one could really do those kinds of thing. "You don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself," Betsy said with her normal confidence in her abilities. She knew that he didn't quite believe that she could take care of herself. Intellectually he knew, but it was at the instinctual level where his disbelief lay. She was a woman and it was his instinct to protect her. Each time she went out where there was a hint of danger, he wanted to scream at her to let him go first and to follow when he knew it was safe. "Could I go with you?" "That would be great," Betsy said. She studied Chuck for a moment wondering if he needed a demonstration of her ability to handle herself in a dangerous situation. He had never seen her in action. It would not bode well for the future of their relationship if he didn't trust in her abilities. She could imagine him charging out in a misguided attempt to protect her only to find himself in over his head. It could end up with both of them getting hurt. Betsy said, "You know, I haven't really had a chance to work out much. I wonder if Colonel Stewart would have a couple men who would be interested in sparring." "Isn't that kind of dangerous?" Chuck asked. "Sparring? Not really," Betsy said with a smile. "I don't see the harm in it," Chuck said doubtfully. "Great. Let's find Colonel Stewart." After Betsy shut down her computer, the pair left her office. They quickly located Colonel Stewart. He was in his office going over a report from the logistics officer concerning the state of their supplies. When Betsy was shown into his office, he looked up at her and asked, "Is there a problem?" "No. I was just wondering if you had a couple of men trained in martial arts. It's been a while since I've had a chance to spar with anyone," Betsy said. "I've got a couple of men who are pretty good. One of them is nationally ranked," Colonel Stewart said. "Great." "He's actually a bit more than good. I've seen him fight in one of those no holds barred fights. You might be biting off a bit more than you can chew." Betsy's eyes practically glowed as she said, "Even better." Chuck frowned and said, "You'd better be careful, Betsy." "I won't hurt him." Colonel Stewart said, "He's not worried about you hurting him, Betsy." "Don't worry. I can take care of myself." "I am worried," Chuck said with a frown. "How about we meet at the flag pole at three? I've got to swing by my apartment and get my gi." "Okay," Colonel Stewart said. Betsy said, "Great! I'll be right back." She was gone in an instant. Chuck stared at the door and shook his head. "She's pretty confident." "A little too confident, if you ask me." Colonel Stewart said, "I'll tell the men to take it easy with her." "I'd appreciate that," Chuck said. It was shortly before three and a small crowd had gathered in the area around the flag pole to watch the match. Most of them weren't expecting much, but knowing that Sergeant Williams was going to spar always managed to draw a crowd. Colonel Stewart and Chuck stood by the four men who were dressed in Gis. "I'd appreciate if you men would take it easy with this young woman. I'm sure that she's good, but I'm afraid that she's a little over confident in her abilities," Colonel Stewart said. Confident in his skills, Sergeant Williams said, "No problem. We've all sparred with students in the past. We'll make sure she learns something without getting hurt." "Thank you," Chuck said. Colonel Stewart glanced up and said, "Here she comes." "Where?" Chuck asked looking around. "Up there." Chuck looked up in time to see Betsy leap from one building to the next. He gasped. He watched horrified when she turned towards them at a run and jumped off the fourth floor of the building. She caught the flag pole and slid down it. His stomach did flip flops the entire time. "I'm here!" Betsy exclaimed. Sergeant Williams swore. "You didn't say we'd be sparring with Grandmaster Betsy Carter." "Grandmaster?" Colonel Stewart asked. "Shit. Prepare to have your asses handed to you, men," Sergeant Williams said to the three men standing beside him. "You're kidding?" Chuck said. Betsy saw Sergeant Williams and shouted in glee at seeing a friendly face. She asked, "Do you still have that dojo over on Main, Master Williams?" "I don't know if it is still there. There have been some riots in that area," Sergeant Williams answered. Betsy said, "You might want to remind the Colonel that this is your home, and that people might be concerned about what they'll find when they rotate out of here." "Right," Colonel Stewart said frowning. "So how do you want to work this?" Sergeant Williams asked. "How about all four of you at once?" "That sounds fair." Chuck said, "No it doesn't." "Yes, it does," Sergeant Williams said. Betsy started stripping out of her clothes. Chuck watched her. He was getting a little upset at how unconcerned she was about getting undressed in front of so many men. Of course, she had on a sport bra and kept her panties on. She put on her colorful gi, which contrasted sharply with the plain white ones worn by the four men she would be fighting. "You guys might want to start warming up," Betsy said. The four men started stretching. Betsy started doing her forms. She was already warmed up from the run from her apartment. Colonel Stewart leaned over to Chuck and, in a low voice that would not carry far, said, "We might have been worried about nothing." "I don't know," Chuck said glancing over at the four men warming up. They were all pretty fierce looking men who moved like they could take care of themselves. "If Sergeant Williams thinks four on one is fair, then I'd trust his opinion on the matter." "She's a woman," Chuck said. Colonel Stewart laughed. "So is Penny Vinter." "Who is she?" "She's just one of the most dangerous people in the world." Chuck was watching Betsy when Sergeant Williams announced that they were ready. It was as if a switch had been thrown. The exotically beautiful woman he knew instantly transformed into something that looked and felt lethal. The four combatants, faces tight and focused, faced her. They all bowed slowly and carefully. Then the men moved apart. The crowd who had gathered to watch the match stepped back as one. It was as if they had been pushed back by an energy field. Everyone took a breath and waited for what was to happen next. Chuck, stomach in his throat, watched the warriors move with snakelike grace. There was a sudden flurry of movement and then it was over. Four men were on the ground looking up at the sky. He hadn't even seen Betsy move. Sergeant Williams, still on the ground, said, "You've gotten faster." "A little," Betsy said. "Do you want to go again?" "Sure," Sergeant Williams said rising slowly from the ground. One of the men on the ground said, "Count me out." Betsy asked, "Are you hurt?" "Just a little stunned. I'll be okay in a minute," the man answered slowly sitting up. She bowed to him. He lowered his head to her in what passed for a bow of respect and then crawled out of the way. He was feeling a little dizzy and didn't trust his legs to support him. One of the people watching went over, helped him to his feet, and led him off to the sidelines to watch the next round. The other three men stood to the side and waited for the area to be clear. Betsy stood there watching them with hooded eyes. The three men lined up against her. "Colonel, call out a start." Colonel Steward stood there for ten seconds and then said, "Start." The men charged. Betsy jumped over their heads. Two men went flying while turning to face her. Sergeant Williams and Betsy faced each other. There was a quick flurry of punches and kicks. Sergeant Williams took a solid blow to his chest and flew back several feet. He couldn't get his feet under him, but did manage to turn the fall into a nice roll. He was back on his feet in an instant. An instant in which Betsy put him into a strangle hold. "I yield," Sergeant Williams shouted. Betsy released her hold on him. He knelt there breathing heavily. He rose to his feet and stepped back. The four men faced her and bowed. She returned their bow. "Thank you for the lesson, Grandmaster." "We'll have to do that again sometime," Betsy said brightly. All trace of the lethal fighter appeared to have vanished in an instant leaving in place the exotically beautiful woman who Chuck loved. He stared at her unable to believe the transformation he had witnessed. It was actually harder to believe than the outcome of the fight. His gut told him that no one who went against her in an unarmed fight would stand a chance of touching her. One of the men said, "She threw me with an Eagle Claw at my neck. She'd have torn out my throat if it had been a real fight." "Same here," the other man who had participated in the last round said. Both men rubbed their throats as if to make sure they were still there. Betsy was standing off to the side changing out of her gi. Chuck listened to the men discuss the match. "I've never lost a match like that." "Me neither. She's got a soft touch though. Just strong enough to feel it, and not strong enough to damage." "I'll remember this match for the rest of my life." "Same, here." Sergeant Williams walked over to Colonel Stewart, and with a grin said, "You should have told her to go easy on us." "I've never seen anything like that." "She's one of the most dangerous people in the world. For all I know, she may be the deadliest." "She sure doesn't look it," Colonel Stewart said glancing over at her. "She took on Russian Spetsnaz, and won. Those guys are animals. She totally dismantled them without even getting a bruise in exchange," Sergeant Williams said. "Them?" "Them as in multiple men, at the same time. She left them paralyzed, deaf, and dumb," Sergeant Williams said. "She was the one who did that?" "That's right." Chuck swallowed heavily. "She's that good?" "Son. She's the best of the best." "I didn't realize," Chuck said. Betsy came over and said, "Let's swing by Sally's lab and see what's going on there." "Sure," Chuck said. Edited By TeNderLoin ------- To Be Continued... ------- Posted: 2012-04-04 Last Modified: 2013-03-06 / 09:21:26 pm ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------