Read Choice of the Gallant - Paradox Equation I Page 49

  Chapter Five

  A vacation on a lovely Fed planet was a nice surprise, but Clete knew Lane was right about it turning into work and they weren't in good condition yet. He glanced over at Dutch and grabbed a shirt.

  "Dutch, you're turning pink. You didn't use screen again. Put this on."

  "Uh, oh. Thanks, Clete. I didn't expect to be in the sun this much or I'd have remembered."

  "Sure you would."

  "Lane's over there someplace."

  "Yeah, and very relaxed, near somnolent. At least he'll have screen with him. That shirt's too big. We're still underweight."

  "Muscle mass takes time to rebuild."

  "I know. I'm worried about how much time we'll have. There's something wrong here. A nervous undercurrent. Tense. That ought to wake Lane up. Thought so."

  "What did you do?"

  "Decided we go on a full ten-day training schedule tomorrow."

  "Oh, Clete! We're supposed to be on vacation!"

  "Lane said it was going to turn into work. It just did. Ten/five/ten run. Dawn tomorrow. Dutch, I really believe it's necessary. I doubt we'll get in the full ten days. Feel like doing a few katas?"

  "No, but I will. Odds on how long before Lane shows up?"

  "I can feel how close he is. Tai chi. Begin."

  "You knew I was coming. You could have waited for me."

  "Get in line, Lane. Too fast, Dutch. From the beginning."

  Clete moved them into the shade. They could cure sunburn, but avoiding it was always first choice. He seldom forgot sunscreen and Lane would be severely teased if he did, but Dutch never seemed to remember it. By the time they finished three hours of what should have been light exercise, they knew they were in worse condition than they'd realized. Clete designed a diet for them. They'd been starved. They had used some of their body mass to stay alive.

  Dutch added a bit to their schedule, a meditation routine. He wanted to see if they could increase their ability to distance their minds from their bodies. If they could, they would never go through the kind of pain they had suffered again. He nearly gave up the idea in panic when Lane went under and he spent an hour trying to bring him back, but both Lane and Clete believed they should go on. They trained their bodies and began to learn to control them to the deepest physiological function. An 'accident' taught them how well they'd learned.

  "DUTCH! Lane! Come on! He's hurt!"

  Lane followed Clete into the sea. Dutch was in real trouble. How had he missed it? Why hadn't he seen it? The sudden shift in current had pulled Dutch against the wreck he had been exploring. His snorkeling partner was struggling to free him from the entangling weeds.

  Riss was hanging on against the panic she felt as she swam in the cloud of blood at his side. She swam to the surface and took him a lung full of air. Then started working to free him again. Suddenly his brothers were there. She got him another lung full of air and he smiled and motioned her up. They brought him up and began floating him to shore. Clete felt her fear and pulled her in.

  "He'll be all right, Riss. He's in a state of trance. It slows his metabolism and reduces the blood loss. You saved his life. You did well."

  "Oh, Clete, it came so sudden. It pushed him into the wreck and tangled him in weeds. I didn't have anything to cut him loose with and there was so much blood and I just--"

  "Easy, easy. It looked like a lot of blood because it dispersed so fast. He's not hurt as bad as you think he is."

  "Clete, I know how bad it is. It was the first thing I checked."

  "Riss... Oh, damn. We're not human, or not completely anyway. We're half something else."

  "I know. He has two hearts. I like the double beat."

  "Well, we've been learning to control our bodies. Dutch is the best. He's healing already. Go look."

  "That's not possible!"

  "Clete, what did you tell her? Damn! Clete, she's right. It's not possible. The wound's closing. Healing as I watch it. In... twenty minutes it'll be gone."

  "WHAT?!"

  "Come on. Let's get him above the tide line."

  "Hello. Thanks, Riss. You saved... Why are you all staring at me?"

  "We're going to move you into the shade, Dutch. Go back into trance and finish healing yourself."

  "What are you talking about, Clete?"

  "Just go back under. We'll talk about it when you wake up. Lane, I'm going to buy Riss and I a drink. We'll be back. Come on, Riss. You look like you need one as bad as I do. Hot cocoa with something minty."

  "I'm with you."

  Lane watched them walk off and smiled. Clete didn't need a drink, but he must have thought Riss did, or at least that she needed the walk and something warm. Somehow Dutch had learned to put himself in a healing trance. The injury wasn't really bad, not much more than a nasty gash. The entangling weeds, blood loss and shock had been the real danger. He worked to get rid of the guilt he had missed the incident in his memory and put it in perspective. They had learned something invaluable from it and that was what was most important.

  Dutch came out of his trance after a very few minutes, looked at his side, grinned at Lane and went to sleep. Lane noted the sleep. It told him the healing trance required an energy expenditure. Normal trance conserved energy and revitalized. He had timed the trance. He would time the sleep. If it was about equal, they could assume at least Dutch had inherited another of their father's physical attributes.

  He thought about missing the memory of the incident and wondered if he hadn't been intended to. The fact he hadn't become dizzy... Clete looked slightly disgusted when they came back. He hadn't been extremely successful getting rid of the guilt.

  "How is he?"

  "Asleep, Clete. Just grinned at me and went to sleep."

  "Oh, I see."

  "Well I don't."

  "Riss, I can't explain it, but what he did made him tired."

  "What are you besides human? Your blood's red. You look like us. That's not extremely unusual, but this is."

  "Our father is... Well, he's from an older species, more physically advanced. He thinks most of his people are boring. Spends most of his time with humans. Prefers their company. Spent several years with Clete's mom."

  "Lane, are you telling me you had a different mother than Clete?"

  "Oh, I'd say she was different. Wouldn't you, Clete?"

  "Very."

  "The longer I'm around you guys, the more confused I get."

  Dutch lifted himself to his elbows and smiled.

  "That's why you're with me. I'm a much simpler person."

  He looked from his two brothers to the pert little brunette he really liked and wondered why they were all laughing.

  They continued with the meditation routine and began to notice it was having more effects on them than expected. Lane answered the question in Dutch's eyes when he sat down across the counter from him in the kitchen.

  "We're changing. Our temperatures are lower. Our resting pulse rates are slower. Our entire metabolisms have slowed."

  "I get cold easily, Lane. I had to come back to Melissa for a sweater last night."

  "You can speed up your metabolism to compensate, Dutch, probably to a much higher rate. With sufficient fuel, you'd probably barely notice sub-zero."

  "I'm not sure I like it."

  "Remember how easily Dad got chilled? We'd be broiling and he'd be wearing a jacket. Well, that's about where we are. Not quite that extreme, but moving that direction."

  "I don't understand about you, Lane. We're half human. You're not. Why are you... Why weren't you like this before?"

  "You, Dutch."

  "Duh."

  "I spent my entire childhood waiting for you. Wanting to be with you. Wanting to be... more than just your half-brother."

  "I never think of you that way. I never have."

  "I know. Just goes to show how tight the bond of our father
's heritage is. You didn't think of us as half-brothers from the moment you met Dad."

  "Maybe more than even just brothers, the triplets everyone thought we were."

  "Aren't we? Aren't we one who became three?"

  "Or are we three becoming one?"

  "Does it matter? Would you change it?"

  "What a silly question. And I can't say I mind becoming more like Dad either. In fact, I've decided I'm going to be rather smug about it."

  "You look even more like him than we do, Goldilocks. Let's find Clete. I've remembered something."

  They found Clete, relieved him of his barbell, and pushed him toward the spa. He had regained nearly all the mass he'd lost and he pulled both of them in with him. He was pleased with the success of the training program and their timing was, if anything, better. They laughed and played a bit, then settled into quiet relaxation. Lane began to tell them of the images and the change that was needed.

  "The current that caught Dutch is a fairly common occurrence. Ten years ago it was an occasional one; twenty, nonexistent. The entangling weeds weren't a result of the current. They caused it."

  "I felt it! I didn't recognize it, but when I was trying to free him, I was feeling an... anger that wasn't my own. It wasn't focused. Just a formless anger."

  "That's right, Clete, a formless anger. It's growing stronger."

  "Lane, there's… evil here. Deep and ugly. A cold malevolence. A power of destruction. Strongest near the sea. I want to do something about it."

  "That's the decision that gave me memories, Dutch. We find an island. It's in the southern ocean. It's the source of the hate. We feel the malevolence. It's not natural to this world. The island is volcanic. It hasn't been active for thousands of years. That changes abruptly."

  "And?"

  "That's it, Dutch."

  "All right, we know what you mean. How do we get to the island?"

  "By boat."

  "I want to take Melissa."

  "Changing. No good."

  "I think we should start at the beginning. Twenty years ago."

  "Good idea, Clete. Well, Lane?"

  "Changing. No. Same result."

  "That's it then. We don't go to the island."

  "What?"

  "The island's a trap. We refuse to spring it. We battle from here. We mock it in our thoughts and-- Well, we know it changes things. Let's get him out of the water."

  "Dutch it's not the same! He's not unfocused! He's not there!"

  Dutch grabbed Clete's mind with his and began the search for Lane. He poured his love and Clete's, their desperate need to find the one who was more than brother, into it. He felt an echo and found another who searched. He felt strength pour into his call. He smiled as he recognized the mind that searched with them. Another joined, gathered into the search by love and need. They found him and battle was joined.

  Power fought power. Love and life battled hate and death. Fought for Lane, for his spirit. They were losing until a will refused to lose. Refused to be defeated. Refused to allow it. Dutch found his own 'stubborn streak'. He would not allow it! He would not let Lane be taken from him! Clete added his passion. The fire of his spirit. The driving need for Lane in his life. His rage at his being taken. It burned through the channel the searching minds had created and became relentless.

  That which had taken Lane began to fear. Love, will and rage were forged into a weapon guided by Dutch's hand. A burning sword of power. Suddenly, Lane was with them, fighting with them to free himself. That which had held him fled into the darkness, mocked by their love and joy.

  The strange union began to dissolve. The dissolution was gently tinged with sadness. Two had touched one they had thought to touch no more. Clete wept for the poignancy of their partings. Dutch gathered his brothers and returned them to themselves. Lane softly whispered, "Mother," in their minds.

  "I'd say that changed things."

  "Clete, you have an absolute gift for understatement. Lane, are you all right?"

  "I... Yes. No. I'm not sure. I feel... unreal."

  "No."

  Clete reached out and pulled Lane to him. Wrapped him in his arms and held him. Dutch was a bit surprised, but trusted Clete's instincts. He joined in the embrace and they held him between them. Lane began to laugh.

  "I know I'm real now. I'm being squished."

  Clete and Dutch joined in his laughter, but they didn't let him go, not for quite some time. They needed to feel he was real as much as he did. He didn't know something was odd until the next morning. After two days, he knew he had to share his worry.

  "Dutch, the images are gone."

  "Which images?"

  "My memories of the future. They're gone. That's why I felt unreal. I catch glimpses of near events. I know Clete is about to walk through that door, but nothing else."

  "Sit down, Clete. Explain."

  "I can't. When we decided to take on a task, I'd see an abrupt end if something happened to us. As soon as we found a solution, the future became myriad possibilities. The possibilities increased with every change we made. I started with one for my life. It became several when Dad didn't send me away. They became many. The many became myriad. Now they're gone. I'm useless to us."

  "That's ridiculous! Don't ever say it again!"

  "I'm sorry, Clete. It's how I feel."

  "I think it's ridiculous too, Lane. You knew Clete was coming in."

  "Like I said. Near. Nothing that leads beyond the next moment. No memories beyond."

  "Limbo. We all are."

  "Your turn, Clete. Explain."

  "We haven't made any plans. We haven't made any decisions. We haven't made any choices. Too delighted to have Lane with us to think beyond the moment. You're the key, Dutch. Have you made any decisions?"

  "No. You're right. I've just been existing. Something took Lane right out of Melissa. It shouldn't have been able to do that. I haven't wanted to make any decisions. It happened when I made a change."

  "You're afraid. You don't want him to have memories. You don't want the power to put him into... well, under the influence of his changing memories. You're afraid it'll happen again. Dutch, you can't hold your breath forever. Choice is a function of who you are, of what we are together. If you refuse to make choices, you cripple yourself and suspend him in limbo."

  "I need time."

  "No, you need to pull yourself together now. We don't have to ride out to battle, but you must choose to do something. Even doing nothing is a choice. It just leads to nothing. If we do nothing, the enemy has won. Entropy defeats us."

  "I don't know what to choose."

  "Choose to face your fear. It isn't of dying. It's of losing us. What we have. What we are. Choose!"

  "I... choose to strengthen us. To learn more about us. To make what happened impossible."

  "Yes. Yes! It's not the same, but it's there. A future. Not far. No splitting. To the point of another time of choice. Thank you."

  "What's the first step, Dutch?"

  "We've learned to use your passion and my will. Lane is our weak link. We have to learn to use his intellect. Blend your passion and my will to the use of his reason. Bring him fully in. I think the key is his insatiable curiosity."

  "I'm lost. I don't think I'm that curious."

  Dutch smiled and Clete burst into laughter. He really was "lost." He just didn't see it.

  "Lane, you're so curious, you've found a way to see the future."

  "I was born with that, Clete. It's just there."

  "Clete was always passionate. Probably gave hugs that bruised when he was two. I'm so stubborn, my mother said I reminded her of her Dutch grandfather. He refused to give up and spent five years in a crippled spaceship living on food concentrate and recycled water and air. He'd plotted his course and knew eventually he'd tumble through a space lane. He thought it would tak
e twelve. Dutch isn't from Duchelle. It's for him. I had it by the time I was a year old."

  "But my sisters see the future too."

  "One future. Unchanging. You say they're quite happy that way. Would you be?"

  "I can answer that. You wouldn't. You get excited every time you anticipate a change, Lane. You can't wait to find out what happens. Like a kid at Christmas. Near breathless with anticipation."

  "Am I really?"

  "Yes. You're surprised. You've always thought of yourself as rather cool and reserved. Almost envied Dutch and I our... drive. That's the best word I can come up with. Lane, you're about as cool as a stable star. Your reserve is stability. Nothing else. You can't resist a puzzle or a mystery. And... behind it all you may be a freer, wilder, spirit than either of us. You have no reserve when it comes to learning the truth of things. I agree with you, Dutch, insatiable curiosity."

  "That's our key. Now all we have to do is figure out what to use it on. The lock it fits. I think we... Let's start with meditation and Melissa. She's a mystery. So are we."

  "You just got him excited, Dutch."

  "Good. We're on our way."

  Five days later, they were ready to begin working on the 'anger' again. They had already won the real battle. They knew it.

  "Can you feel the difference, Clete?"

  "Yes, it's weaker. Still malevolent. Still angry. But weaker. Why, Dutch?"

  "Well, Lane? A mystery?"

  "Not really. Analogy: There used to be receivers that could run on either of two sources of power, current running along wires and directed to outlets, or storage batteries installed in the unit and replaced when exhausted. We unplugged it from the wall. Eventually, it would run down."

  "How eventually?"

  "A very long time, Dutch. A lot of wrecks, drownings and fear long time."

  "So we still need to take it out."

  "Yes. It doesn't belong here."

  "I pity it."

  "Explain that statement, Clete."

  "It doesn't belong anywhere, Dutch. It's not needed, not wanted and it has no home. I'll destroy it, but I'll pity it."

  "Your pity and compassion are the greatest weapons in our arsenal, Clete. It has neither. We have an island to find. In Lissa. Melissa stays here. You know, she's not happy with her current shape. We should move her."

  "Suggestions, Lane."

  "Put her where she can be either of the two shapes she likes, Dutch. The spaceport or the carnival."

  "Let's take her to the carnival."

  "Whoa! Changes! Oh my. That was a good choice. We really are going to have fun when we get back. If we get back."

  "You know, Clete, it doesn't even bother me any more when he says that."

  "Says what, Dutch?"

  "If."

  Lane coaxed Melissa into being Lissa at the spaceport to drop her, then let her be her favorite shape at the carnival. They hung a closed sign on her and ran the fifteen K back to the spaceport, Clete's idea. The port manager muttered about idiot computers that lost landing records when the ship on pad three asked for clearance for liftoff. They flew to the island and landed. The volcano began to smoke.

  "Is it in the volcano, Lane?"

  "No, not really. We climb it to see and it erupts."

  "I don't like that. An eruption would cause tremendous damage along the shoreline for thousands of kilometers."

  "Not to mention giving us very hot feet."

  Clete grinned when Dutch sat on the ground and laughed.

  "Oh, it didn't like that. You decided not to climb it and laughed at it."

  "Change. The gun! You're going to use Lissa's gun to vent the volcano!"

  "Yes, Lane. What does that do?"

  "Makes it decide to hurry. Back to the ship. NOW! Run, Dutch! RUN!"

  Dutch put on a burst of speed and dove through the hatch. He was in the gun turret by the time Lane and Clete got to the ship. He chose his point and fired through the volcano. He tracked the beam down, cutting through the side and deep into the island base. He kept tracking down as Lane lifted off. The sea began to boil as molten magma poured from the rent in the volcanic shaft. Dutch laughed. It would be very angry now.

  "That's cruel, Dutch. You're laughing because it's helpless against us."

  "Yes, I am. Help me out of here. Give me your hand. If I unstrap, I'm going to land on my head. Ah. Better. I wondered when Lane was going to turn the ship back over."

  "Just in time to nearly land me on my head. He's been pretty busy. A lot of people wanted to know exactly what we thought we were doing."

  "Ooh, I'll bet he's been busy. Our nasty thing is very close, Clete."

  "Yes. Let's get us all together. I think it's going to mount a personal attack."

  "Lane!"

  Clete followed Dutch the few meters to the bridge. Lane looked up and smiled. He reached out a hand and Dutch took it, then held out his other hand to Clete. They joined minds and waited. When the attack came, it was furious. And futile. Dutch exulted, then realized Clete's overwhelming feeling of pity was their true weapon. He willed the malevolent force to feel it. To know it. To see Clete's sadness for the pitiful thing that could know only hate. His compassion for something his love would destroy. It screamed into nonexistence and Clete wept for it.

  They requested landing clearance and set down on pad three. There was quite a reception committee waiting for them. Dutch apologized for firing a weapon in the planetary atmosphere, but explained all he could think about at the time was the loss of life and property an eruption would have caused. Then he had to apologize for landing on the island in the first place. He was getting rather aggravated with the whole affair when the media people burst into the room.

  They were suddenly heroes. The people who had been ranting at him were touting his quick thinking, posing with the three of them for the vid. Dutch looked at Lane and he winked. Dutch grinned. He now knew who had commed the media. Clete was grinning too. Lane didn't feel smug very often. Dutch and Lane groaned when he ran them back to the carnival.

  The port manager looked out and swore. Pad three was empty again. And no one could find the liftoff records. Two technicians spent some time looking for the glitch in the computer. Melissa chose a slightly different spot on the midway and they took down the closed sign. The first customer was a lovely girl. Dutch had no problem devining her immediate future. It started with dinner, then a show, then... Clete and Lane laughed. Dutch would never change.

  Lane watched the future take shape and hunted for a change. When he couldn't find one, he headed for the beach and Dutch quickly. They didn't have much time.

  "Dutch, we need to talk."

  "About?"

  "Clete. We need to do it fast. I'm worried and he'll be here soon."

  "Start talking."

  "He's going to fall in love. Helplessly in love."

  "Lane, that's not a problem. It won't change things between us."

  "Dutch, she's going to die. He's going to want us to stop it. Want us to change it."

  "Then we change it."

  "We can't. Let me rephrase that. If we do, thousands die. She makes the choice to save them. I've been doing what-ifs for hours. I kept thinking I'd find something. Dutch, she's carrying his child when it happens."

  "Damn. We have to tell him. He'd never completely trust us again if we don't."

  "I know. I've thought about rushing us off the planet. Getting us out of here before he meets her."

  "That's not right either."

  "I know. Here he comes."

  "What's wrong, Lane?"

  "Let's go to Melissa. I want our home around us. A fire. A cup of cocoa. Us."

  "You're hurting. You're both hurting."

  "Yes, Clete. Come on. Lane will explain. You have a choice, but we know how you'll make it."

  "All right, Dutch. We run. I want the hurt
lessened until we get home."

  They ran. It did keep the pain at a distance. They settled by the fire in their living room. Lane told Clete what he had seen. Clete's choice was love, even for a short time. They had known it would be. They wouldn't leave.

  He met her the next day, a Fleet officer on leave, beautiful, passionate and loving. Her name was Helen. Dutch and Lane put the pain into the future and reveled in Clete's happiness.

  "Dutch, Helen and I are going to the beach. Do you want to come?"

  "No, Clete. Lane and I have plans too. Have fun."

  "We always do."

  "Yeah, I know. Do me a favor. Try to keep things from getting too warm. At least til evening. We're getting tired of looking for places to take a cold shower."

  "I'll try. I want to bring her here, Dutch. I want her to know who I am. I want to bring her home."

  "All right. Take her out of the hotel. She stays here with us. With you. It's where she belongs."

  "Tonight?"

  "Tonight."

  Dutch went to see how Lane was. He'd made a choice. In a way it was a betrayal. A violation.

  "Will he hate me?"

  "No. He's going to be pretty mixed up about it for awhile. Let's get to work. We have a great deal to get ready."

  "And not much time."

  "Stop. We promised him we wouldn't dwell on it, would keep our minds on other things. He deserves to be happy for the time they have. She's quite a woman, Dutch. She will do what needs to be done."

  Clete brought Helen home. She learned what the man she had fallen in love with was. It didn't really surprise her. She'd known there was a uniqueness about the brothers that went beyond being half human. She became part of the family, one who belonged in their lives, a part of all of them.

  "Dutch, Clete asked me to marry him."

  "I never doubted he would Helen. I'm very happy for you both."

  "No you're not. Neither is Lane. Oh, I'm welcome and you even love me, but you're not happy. I want to know why."

  "The choice wasn't mine to make after all."

  "I don't understand."

  "Helen, I... We... Damn. Did you extend your leave? Did you tell them you were getting married? Who to?"

  "Yes."

  "What did your captain say?"

  "He told me Commander Telas said Clete's father would be pleased."

  "He's our godfather."

  "Your godfather?!"

  "Yes, and the best there is."

  "I don't doubt that. It's just a very antiquated concept. What does that have to do with why you're not happy?"

  "We... I'm sorry, Lane. I'm sending her to you. I can't."

  "You can't what?"

  "Find Lane. Ask him. He lives with the future. I don't have to that often. Just... find him. You have choices to make. He's a very good guide."

  Lane smiled gently when Clete walked into his room. He'd tried to ignore it, but he was too honest with himself to do it any longer.

  "You told her. Lane, you told her."

  "She asked, Clete. Would you have had me lie to her? I couldn't have even if you'd asked it. I respect her too much. Has it changed things between you?"

  "Yes. How else would I have known?"

  "Do you love each other less?"

  "Of course not, Lane, but now there's a desperation, a poignancy, about it. No one should have to know when they're going to die."

  "I agree, but many of us do. My mother wasn't the same situation, but she knew. I'll know. Perhaps everyone does. She could have chosen not to. I told her that. A dozen ways. Dutch has known we'd have to tell her from the beginning. Even before I did. But he couldn't actually do it. It hurt him too much."

  "The night he got drunk."

  "Yes, to deaden the pain, so you wouldn't be burdened with it. Now go get ready. All weddings are both joyful and sad. Yours will be no different. You just know the reasons."

  "Lane, I don't know if I can get through it."

  "Clete, when you see her coming down the aisle, red hair, green eyes, turned up nose and freckles, you'll be the happiest man in this universe. Probably more than this one. We're going to live an incredibly long time. Well, if we don't get ourselves killed. We'll have to face this again and again. Father chooses to love and accept the pain of parting. You've made the same choice."

  "Yes, I guess I have. Get ready. You're giving away the bride."

  "That didn't surprise the magistrate as much as your first suggestion."

  "I know. He just couldn't handle the concept of two best men. What will he do when you join Dutch beside me instead of sitting down?"

  "Stumble a little, then go on. He's more adaptable than he thinks."

  The wedding was beautiful and joyous. Helen and Clete went back to Melissa and Dutch and Lane went out on the town, looking for company. Everyone seemed to be. It was a very warm autumn night in the city. Helen had twelve more days of leave.

  Four days after Helen went back, Lane ran for Dutch. He hadn't been able to keep his brothers from knowing it would be soon, but they really didn't want to know when. He really didn't want to know, but he did.

  "Find him! Find him fast!"

  "He's over there. Not far. Come on!"

  Sand. Dutch hated running in sand. It slowed him. Dragged him down. He wasn't going to be there. Wasn't going to be fast enough. Clete would feel him coming. Would know what was coming.

  Clete's scream of pain and loss cut through him. Drove him to his knees. Lane caught his arm and dragged him up. They ran on through the pain, and the anguish, and the dragging, treacherous, sand.

  They caught him and held him. Kept him with them. Held his mind, when he would have thrown it after her. Held his body, when he would have thrown it into the sea. Held his life between them, when he thought it had ended. Along the beach, people saw two holding one and weeping, and wept with them.

  The official notification was delivered, personally, by Telas two days later. Dutch led him to Clete's rooms, where he'd shared so much with his wife of such a short time. Lane was waiting for him when he walked out.

  "I've given him her message. I don't know how to judge his reaction. I did as she asked. It seemed the choice should be hers. She believed she died for a good cause. I asked her to let me take the mission. She refused."

  "We knew she would, Telas. So did Clete."

  "The ship would have killed thousands, Lane. I still tried to change it. We were close, but there was too much orbital traffic to risk firing a weapon to attempt to destroy it. Helen loaded everyone aboard into survival pods, stunned five to do it. There wasn't a self-destruct. It was just an old mining ship being dismantled for salvage. She didn't learn why a station-keeping jet suddenly fired and aimed it right for the planet. She used the one that hadn't fired to guide it into the moon. It was barely in the realm of possible, a feat of piloting I might not have been able to duplicate. She may have been the only one who could have done it. And she may have known it. I'll miss her too. Dutch, how is he?"

  "He needed to be alone. Lane, will he be--"

  "Dutch, he'll laugh again and love again. This time will become one of his most wonderful memories. He knows it already. He just doesn't feel it yet. You two have given him a gift from her. Someday, he'll be ready to receive it. You, Dutch, gave her another choice. Telas, you gave her the means. Thank you, Godfather, for interceding with the captain on her behalf."

  "He thanked me. He too will miss her. He too understood... she made the decision not to change it."

  "I looked for a way we could change it, Telas."

  "I was sure you had, Lane. Dutch, help him get rid of some of the guilt he couldn't find one. He'll help. He thinks Clete's got too much to carry now without that too. Don't you?"

  "Yes, Godfather."

  He left them to return to his ship. He would watch over the tiny thing that awaited, suspende
d in sickbay, the caring and love Clete would give when he was ready. Someday, he would claim Helen's gift. And delight in the little boy who called him "Daddy."

  Dutch was worried about both his brothers. They were just wandering around. They'd visited a couple beautiful worlds, looked at the lovely and peaceful scenery a few hours and... wandered. The time had been important, but it had been long enough.

  "Lane, we need to do something fun."

  "We're on our way to the pleasure planet of Jesera."

  "That wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

  "Yes it is, Dutch. You want to show off, show up the bad guys, be a hero, and meet lots of lovely ladies. Not necessarily in that order."

  "Exactly what I had in mind."

  "I thought so. Something fun. This will be good for Clete too. That's your next question."

  "Will it?"

  "See? Next question."

  Lane ducked the playful swipe. He was looking forward to seeing Dutch's face when they landed in the midst of an interstellar showcase of muscle, madness and beauty. The madness was the work. The muscle and beauty were the fun. The work would be fun too. Dutch really disliked bullies and drug dealers.

  "Tell Clete we're on full training schedule. Starting in ten minutes. Meet you in the gym."

  Dutch laughed and went to find Clete. It was time for him to rejoin the team. Time he learned he could still laugh. Time he remembered why he was alive. He was still laughing when he got to the gym. The incredulous look on Clete's face had been wonderful. No one but he had ever called a training schedule before.

  Lane put them through their paces. He told Clete to pay attention and shape up. Within a few hours, Clete had retaken his place as training director. He hadn't even realized he'd done it, just started following the schedule Lane had made and gradually slipped into it.

  They had been a very long way from where they were going. In twenty days, they had honed their bodies and their skills to perfection. When they landed, they were ready. Lane entered them in every event but the beauty contest and he signed them up as escorts for that. He carried their very busy schedule back to the hotel room Melissa had landed in and handed copies to Clete and Dutch.

  "Lane, this isn't fair. We're faster and stronger than full humans."

  "Clete, we aren't competing against humans in most events. The top weightlifter in your class is a targ. Dutch's main competition in the track events is a corduni. We're even going to lose a few contests."

  "Hey! I just found my favorite event!"

  Clete and Lane turned to Dutch and chorused, "Beauty pageant escort." Then Lane told them why they were there.

  They swept through the events. They were listed as 'The Gallants, anthropoid mix' on the official charts. The only problems arose when Clete was entered in bodybuilding, weightlifting and wrestling events. There were some very warm audiences. They solved the problem by dousing him with cold water whenever they started to get warm. He spent a great deal of time wet.

  Lane was right. They did take second in a few events, never third. They also ended in a few ties. They laughed when they tied for first place as best all-around athlete. It was the only competition all three were in as individuals. They took every event they entered as a team. They built a showpiece out of martial arts routine six and sharp shooting routine three and presented it the night of the award presentations. The stunned silence of the stadium audience lasted nearly two minutes before the night was split with a roar of approbation. By the time they showed up for beauty pageant duty, females of every species were begging the stage manager/producer for one of them as escort. Dutch had an idea, of course.

  "We'll escort them all on. Then you assign someone else for the rest of the duties. We'll bring them on two at a time so the schedule doesn't get off."

  "I can't do that."

  "Why not? Dutch has given you a solution that keeps you out of hot water."

  Lane smiled at the thoughtful look on the man's face. They all liked him and it was going to be very pleasant to help him out.

  "Would you rather assign us one each and then try to walk past the other twenty-seven finalists? We'll even provide our own costumes, something that will contrast well with the dark formal attire of the other thirty escorts. You do have three alternates listed."

  "Hmm, it would be unusual. You boys are an attraction. Wouldn't take long to spread the word. Would probably attract more women. Might even boost ticket sales."

  "Yes, and no one would be late getting lined up to go on either."

  "How would you boys like to travel with the show?"

  "We thought you'd never ask."

  They dressed in the full formal tradition of Earth's twentieth century, white tails and diamond studs with blue satin tie and cummerbund. They finished it with white capes lined in blue satin.

  They all loved the style and had since Alice had shown them an image of Gallant in it when he had been very young. The memory of hearing him nervously asking her how he looked, and the three of them giggling too hard to explain why, when he asked what was going on, brought smiles, as they got ready.

  Dutch and Clete thought they were done, then Lane handed each a white top hat, a silver-headed walking stick, a deep red rose and a diamond ear clip.

  Clete looked at the ear clip in his hand and grinned. He brushed his hair back and put it and the top hat on. He pinned on the rose, spun his walking stick and strolled out the door. Dutch and Lane laughed. The Gallant boys were going on the town and expecting trouble to find them. The producer stared at them in amazement.

  "You didn't tell me you were going to dress like that!"

  "Is there something wrong with it, Frake?"

  "No, Dutch. I just didn't know anyone could actually wear something like that and, well, get away with it. You're going to outclass the contestants."

  "Never. They're the gems. We're merely the sets to show them off. Trust us. Our dad taught us well. None of them has ever been more beautiful than they will be tonight. Show us the routine."

  Clete expressed their opinion of the 'usual' show for the pageant. He could feel it was unanimous.

  "Dull."

  "What?"

  "Clete said it was dull. He's right. It's a presentation, not a roll call. You just leave it to us."

  "Dutch... "

  Frake watched from backstage and was astounded. The beauties floated on the arms of the brothers, even the non-anthropoids. The three just knew how to walk with them so the grace of their species was seen. He'd surprised himself when he asked them to join the show, but he was getting sure it was one of the best decisions he'd ever made, real fast.

  When all thirty finalists were on-stage, the brothers slid from three directions to front center on their knees, threw their arms out to the audience, then turned and threw them out to the contestants. Who had taught them all to drop deep curtsies in unison? And how had they figured out a way for a coni'ith to do it? The house exploded in applause. Frake sighed contentedly. The pageant was a success and it hadn't even gotten past the introductions.

  Frake watched in awe. They were everywhere. A music board bench repaired, a harp restrung, a riser rebuilt, a nervous hand held, a spotlight replaced, a lightboard rewired, a pushy mother charmed, a coughing judge given water... Everywhere. They took over the final presentation too.

  They carried flowers, sash and cape and followed the previous year's winner on-stage. Clete smoothly stepped in to assist the tiny othvin to crown her human successor, reshaping the crown she'd worn on her crest to fit in the process. He draped the sash and stepped back. Lane smoothly fastened the cape and Dutch laid the flowers across her arm. They stepped into line, rolled their hats down their arms and bowed her onto the runway. The crowd went wild.

  Frake went back to divide up the receipts and sighed. They'd demanded sixty percent this time. Perhaps the house had been large enough he would be able to pay for some work
on the ship, but he doubted it. He said "Come in," before he thought about it when Dutch knocked.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Counting our receipts and paying our bills, Dutch, the last chore before we move on."

  "That's a very large bill you have laid out, Frake. Are you paying off some real estate? Say, maybe a planet?"

  "It's just one of the bills. Keeps the show on."

  "Protection. A piece of the gross. A large piece. Getting larger all the time. You pay it, they don't hurt anyone. Stop paying it."

  "You... guessed it. I can't stop. They showed me I can't. Grabbed two of the girls and addicted them to a drug. Called the police and told them I did it. The police didn't really believe it, but it ruined those poor kid's lives and they asked me not to come back."

  "Stop paying. We'll take care of them."

  "Dutch, I can't. They just upped it to sixty percent and I've got no choice. I can't even just shut down the show."

  "I understand you felt like you didn't have a choice before, but you do now. We're taking the ladies out tonight. They'll be safe."

  "All of them?!"

  "No, six are engaged or married, just the other twenty-four. Oh! Twenty-five. Last year's winner is coming too. Give me half the protection money. Tell them your new partners have it. Clete's in the mood to show off. So am I. Lane likes an audience of ladies too."

  "Dutch, you don't know these people."

  "Tell them we moved in on you, said we were taking half their cut. Be real scared. Tell them who we are. I'm about to give you a black eye. It'll keep you from getting really hurt. We'll fix it when we get back. Won't be late. Most of the girls have a curfew."

  "OW!"

  "Sorry. There. That's half. Now get the rest of the money put away fast. Don't worry about paying us. Clete needs exercise and gym time costs. Besides, we have trouble finding sparring partners for him."

  Frake did exactly what Dutch told him. He didn't have any trouble acting scared. His black eye was very convincing. He was surprised when the two men took the thirty percent and didn't give him another one. They were mad someone was trying to 'muscle in' on their territory. Frake put an ice pack on his eye. He suddenly smiled. He wondered if the protection collectors had any idea what they were up against.

  They used some of the money to take the ladies out. They took them several places. Half of every crowd knew who they were. The other half knew who the ladies were. About midway through the evening, eight unpleasant men accosted them on the street. They helped the ladies step over them and continued their evening. They saw each and every lady safely home. Dutch borrowed Clete's medunit and went back to cure Frake's eye.

  "Here. We used some to show the ladies a good time. Sorry. We looked over the ship. It needs work. Order these parts. We'll start on it tomorrow. Oh, we need you to pay our hotel bill. We also have one piece of equipment we'll be putting on the ship. We'll keep it in our cabin. We're sentimental about it."

  "Didn't they find you, Dutch?"

  "Who? Oh, them. Yes. We didn't stay with them long. We were afraid we'd be fined for leaving eight large pieces of trash on the sidewalk. There. That should feel much better."

  Frake started to laugh. They were sorry they had used some of the money, were going to fix the ship, didn't need to be paid, and would he take care of their hotel bill. And they'd left 'trash' on the sidewalk. Just a little. Eight pieces. To top it all off they were incredible showmen. Somebody out there liked him.

  "Dutch, you boys are amazing."

  "True. Oh! Almost forgot. We'll be just a little late tomorrow. We're keeping watch on the ladies' hotels tonight and putting them all on their flights home. Won't be at the spaceport until just before noon. Try to get those parts delivered by then. Goodnight."

  Dutch hurried. Lane had said the first attack would come just about an hour after midnight. They probably wouldn't need him, but he hated to miss the fun. He dashed into the hotel and found them. Just in time.

  "Four. Armed. Freight lift. I'll go."

  "Clete, you can't have all the fun."

  "There are only four, Dutch, and the lift is small."

  "All right. Enjoy yourself. What's next, Lane?"

  "Three on the stairs. If we want to do anything, we'd better get there before Clete gets done on the lift."

  "Let's go! He's probably finished."

  "No. He'll be polite and put them in the trash bin out back."

  "Good thinking. We'll do the same. Got to keep the hotel tidy. Oh goody. A banister. Let's slide down."

  "Sounds like fun. About three flights."

  "Wheeee! Oops. Hope I didn't break him."

  "My goodness, Dutch. You have the trash all piled by the back door to go out."

  "Sorry I forgot to leave you some. Help me carry it out anyway?"

  "Certainly. Hi, Clete. Next stop Hotel Caprice. Good, you got their injector. Here's ours. Clete, that isn't nice. You broke them. Oh, well. They didn't really need them."

  The hotel Caprice was a bit busier and the Ranforth more so. They gathered all the ladies for breakfast and walked them to the spaceport. They saw them off and moved Melissa to the show's ship. The parts were just arriving when they walked out of it.

  "Good morning, Frake."

  "I didn't see you boys get here!"

  "We slipped in quietly. Lane and Clete didn't want to be seen this late still in evening wear. Clete, life support; Lane, computers. I'll take the drive. We'll spread the rest around. Frake, have something ready for lunch in about two hours. We had a late breakfast, but I'm going to be hungry. Get clearance for liftoff in... six hours ought to do it. Ship needs a paint job. We'll get one next stop."

  "Dutch, the repair estimate was forty hours and eight men."

  "That sounds about right. Liftoff in six."

  Frake watched them for awhile, then fixed them lunch and scheduled liftoff. They'd be done in six hours.

  "Where did you boys learn all this stuff, Dutch?"

  "Let's see. Some from our moms, some from our dad, some from our godfather, some at the academy."

  "Academy?"

  "Would you believe Dutch was a lieutenant?"

  "So were you, Clete."

  "Yeah, but I didn't figure he'd have any trouble believing Lane and I were, just you."

  "You were ALL FLEET OFFICERS?!"

  "Easy, Frake. Small room. Hard on the ears. Yeah. Enjoyed it for awhile. Lane decided we should retire early. He missed us."

  "True, Dutch, I did. I also decided it was time to move you around a bit. You kept running out of women and places to take them."

  "That and they kept trying to get him to choose between them."

  "I never did understand that. I gave all of them plenty of attention. Back to work. The drive was in bad shape. Let's see... cargo lifts. Later."

  "He can't have the drive work done already!"

  "Sure he can, Frake. He kisses the power generators, tells them they're beautiful and they fix themselves up to please him. Lane, you get the dirty job. I'm too big for half the access shafts."

  "An excuse, Clete, but one I'll accept. Besides, I just got the computers working properly. I'd rather not have you shoulder through a junction and fry them. Cable check it is. I suppose you're going to fix the galley."

  "It needs it. I'll take care of surface plumbing too. Dutch can get the stuff behind the panels when he gets done with the lifts. He's already dirty from cleaning the exhaust tubes."

  "Sounds good. I'll pick up command and nav. Later."

  "Frake, you'll have to move. I'm about to take this place apart and put it back together. You can come back and make tea for us in a couple hours."

  "Uh... sure, Clete. I think I'll just go to my cabin and sleep. I'm already dreaming."

  "Frake, if you think we're fast, you should have seen my commander. He once told me Dutch's mom
was faster."

  "You don't have the same mother?"

  "Nope. All different, but they all had the same... first... name. Got it. Frake, I'm about to remove the deckplate you're standing on. Go."

  "Uh... later."

  There was only one job left to do by the time they had tea, get everything and everyone else aboard. Frake just stood and watched while they took care of that too. Cargo was stowed, cabins assigned, rehearsal schedules handed out. People walked through the corridors with their mouths open. Even the bed in cabin eight had been fixed. He wasn't at all surprised when they took over the bridge and smoothly lifted off.

  "Party time! Let's get acquainted. Cargo hold, I think. I'll get everyone."

  "All right, Dutch. Clete and I will be there as soon as we get comm and nav clear and get her on auto."

  "The autopilot doesn't work, Lane. Hasn't since before I bought it. Can't be fixed."

  "That's why I built a new one, Frake. On course. Auto in. See you in the hold, Clete."

  "Private ship Merriment out. Wait up. I'll go with you. Coming, Frake?"

  "Uh, you go ahead. I'll be there."

  He sat and stared around him at the smoothly-running ship and started to laugh. He wouldn't be paying any more 'protection' money. He had all the protection he needed. Somebody out there liked him. They'd sent him three guardian angels. He didn't know they were looking for a devil in the cargo hold.

  They returned to their cabin to talk about what they'd found. All of them were angry, but Dutch was furious.

  "Traces everywhere. Everywhere but the bridge and Frake's cabin. Not enough to bully him into paying them off, they use him to smuggle drugs too."

  "I picked up mean and nervous from a couple stagehands, Dutch. Big one with the bald spot and the little one with, well, shifty eyes. One of the women too. The pretty blond."

  "Damn. Prettiest thing on the ship and she's dirty. Thanks for the warning, Clete. Anything, Lane?"

  "Clete's picked them. Let's see. Access panel nearest the hold. In the music board. The big costume box. Under the bed I'm laying on. We take it to Frake. He gets real sick. He hates drugs. Wants to space whoever brought them on board. We space the drugs. The blonde's got an injector, Dutch. I can't see any way out of it. She's going to hit you with it. Nasty stuff. Addictive."

  "Easy, Dutch! Easy! It's not bliss! Lane, help! He wants to kill her. Kill all of them."

  "Dutch, you trance through it! No effect! None! I promise! She's after someone else. You block. She's after the little brunette with the overbite and freckles. A couple others too. You'll stop her."

  "Better. Still mad, but not killing mad."

  "Let's collect drugs. I want them off this ship. I want it now. My skin crawls. Get off that bunk, Lane."

  "No. We have to wait, Dutch. Just a few hours. Go home. In Melissa. Get away from it. Clete, dump him in the spa."

  "Right, Lane. In he goes."

  "Put me down, Clete! OW! Duck a little lower ne--"

  Lane smiled as Melissa's door cut off Dutch's voice. Helping nice people get rid of a nasty problem was good for all of them. It was especially good for Clete. Helen had become his most beautiful memory, not an open wound.

  Clete was going to have trouble keeping Dutch from killing. The shifty fellow had an injector too. Lane knew he was his target. Dutch would teach him how to heal himself. Before the night was over, he and Clete would both learn. He drifted off to sleep. It would be how the shifty man would find him.

  Clete roared in fury and Dutch screamed his as they raced out of Melissa. Lane stopped them from going after the person, who had just cleared the cabin, with a lift of his hand. It was about all he could do, but he managed it. He had to slow Dutch, turn his anger a bit, focus it on himself to prevent a possible future. Clete would feel the need and help. Dutch's biting words told him he'd succeeded avoiding the first path to catastrophe.

  "He knew this was coming, Clete. You know he did. I'm going to kill whoever did this."

  "Dutch. Dutch! DAMMIT! LISTEN TO ME! He didn't tell you because he knew this is what you'd do, fly apart. You're no good to him or anybody else this way. Pull yourself together. This is the reason we go hunting drugs. He told us where. We take him with us. All the way through."

  "Yeah, with... no... no...killing. Clete, stop him. Shifty man. Stop him. Bad choice. Bad choice."

  "Dutch! It's what he doesn't want you to do! There's a reason! He let them hit him for a reason. Dutch?"

  "You're probably going to have to remind me several more times. Let's get him up. We're going drug hunting. This… stuff is fast. Let's get him moving. It should help."

  They collected the drugs. They ran into the shifty man coming out of the hold. Clete grabbed Dutch and yelled.

  "STAND STILL! Stand very, very still. If you even breathe hard, I won't be able to keep him from killing you. Drop the weapon. Just let it fall. DO AS I TELL YOU! He can move before the beam hits him. Drop it. DAMMIT! I'm trying to save your life! Good. Now the injector. Dutch. Dutch, he's unarmed. Let him go back in the hold. Back up slowly. Very slowly. He's the fastest man alive. You can't get away from him. He'd really like you to try. You're terrified. That's good. You should be. I would be if he wanted to kill me. Dutch, find the drugs. Come on, Dutch. The drugs are more important. He won't move."

  "I want him to move. Just move. I want to kill him. I want him to move."

  "He's not going to. Leave him and find the drugs."

  "Find the drugs, Dutch. We'll trance. Together. Find them. Don't kill. Bad choice."

  "Lane, I want... All right. If he stands still, I might not kill him. But I want him to move."

  The shifty man stood very still. He had looked death in the face and it was waiting for him to move. He collapsed on the floor and sobbed his relief when they left and locked him in the hold.

  They took Lane and the drugs to Frake. He became violently ill. Clete shook his head. If anything, Frake hated drugs more than Dutch did. It was why the threat of their use had been such an effective method of coercion. Dutch went hunting the blond. Clete left Lane with Frake and spaced the drugs. He had to find Dutch before he killed her. He almost didn't make it.

  "NO, DUTCH! If you hit her, you'll kill her! You haven't got the control to avoid it. You. Merith. Lock her in the cargo hold. It's the only place she'll be safe. She's drugged him and I might be able to stop him. Come back here. I'll try to keep him here til you get back. If you don't get back soon, he'll come hunting. The drug won't stop him. It just makes it easier for him to kill. Easy, Dutch. She's running for the hold."

  Clete struggled against Dutch's anger and hoped Merith returned quickly. She did.

  "She opened it and ran in. There was a man in the hold. He begged me to lock it. He saved me. She was going to inject me. He got his hand in front of the injector before--"

  "Easy, Merith, I know. He's fast. Help me get him moving."

  "I don't... need help. I need... to kill them."

  "They're locked up."

  "There's another."

  "Not yet. He hasn't done anything yet. Come on. You need to help Lane. He needs you. He can't fight it like you can."

  "You're right. Lane first. Come on."

  Clete gusted a sigh of relief. He'd barely held against Dutch's anger. He leaned against a bulkhead and dealt with his own. Merith watched Dutch move swiftly down the corridor.

  "How can he even walk? He should be out of it."

  "He's... stubborn. He just refuses to let the drug win. You come too. You don't want to be alone."

  "You're right, I don't. He's coming back with your brother. Where are they going?"

  "To our cabin. Dutch and Lane are going to fight the drug together. I'll take you to-- Frake, where are you going?"

  "Lane said I was to come along and bring
the girl to somebody named Melissa."

  "Damn. I hope he knows what he's doing. Our cabin. Go on in. I'll show you the door to Melissa."

  He led them into Lissa and through to Melissa. He left them sitting on the floor, holding each other and giggling. He wondered again if Lane knew what he was doing. He found them on his bed. He'd looked everywhere else first. He had such a tight hold on himself, he hadn't been able to hunt for them by feel. He'd been about to head for the depths of the ship when he realized his door was open.

  "We're waiting for you. You need to learn. Your bed is big enough. Give me your hand."

  "All right, Dutch. I just hope... Never mind.

  Dutch took them into trance and they learned. Clete didn't need it so he surfaced almost immediately, but he now knew how. He went out to Merith and Frake and led them to the kitchen. He made cocoa and sat down in the breakfast nook.

  "What is this thing?"

  "Our home, Frake, a ship. Her name is Melissa."

  "This isn't possible."

  "Merith, if it wasn't possible, it wouldn't exist."

  "Clete, that's not what I meant. Or maybe it is what I meant. I don't know."

  "I'd better get more cocoa ready. They'll want some. They'll probably sleep just a few minutes. Dutch is too keyed up to really rest. We need to make some plans."

  "They'll be under that drug for hours, then screaming withdrawal for several more. I've seen it before. Horrible."

  "Easy, Frake. They'd almost rid themselves of it when I left them. Dutch was in a hurry. He didn't like it."

  "That's not possible!"

  "What's not possible? Hi, Merith. Scoot over."

  "You're not possible!"

  "Yes I am. Clete and Lane say they might not be, but I definitely am. Ah, cocoa. Thanks, Clete."

  "Lane?"

  "Sleeping. He won't be long. It was different, Clete. Easier. Just sort of broke it apart and made it... nothing. Lots easier than really healing something. I don't think I even really needed the trance. I started as soon as it hit me."

  "The trance didn't hurt. It gave Lane and me a chance to learn how."

  "True. So, Frake, what do you think of Melissa?"

  "I'm trying not to."

  Clete and Dutch laughed and soon Merith and Frake joined in.

  "I hate missing nice laughter."

  "Hello, Lane. Why did you tell Frake and Merith to come to Melissa?"

  "Did I? I guess I remembered them being here."

  "Remembered?"

  "Lane remembers things that haven't happened yet, Merith. Dutch can link our minds together. Me, I'm just an ordinary empath. Dutch, you're making me warm!"

  "Sorry, Clete. I like sitting next to Merith. Let's take our cocoa to the living room. This may be a bit too cozy."

  "Definitely!"

  "You know, I never knew guardian angels took heaven with them when they were working."

  "Frake, you have a wonderful sense of humor. No wonder you're a showman."

  "I lost it for awhile, Dutch. Thank you for helping me find it again."

  "It's time to spread this operation out. If they were doing it to Frake, they're doing it to others."

  "Choice. Change."

  "Grab him, Clete!"

  "Dutch, why don't you wait until he's sitting down?"

  "It's all right, Clete. I was waiting for it. We've got a straight path until the next choice. Motorcycles! He's decided he wants motorcycles!"

  "Too bad we don't have Dad to ride with us."

  "We don't need him. It would be fun though. Dutch, we get a list from Frake. Others he thinks are paying. We take both him and Merith with us. We visit a large number. Space a lot of drugs. Dutch, you must not kill anyone. It's going to be hard not to. Especially the man in gray. He's a key to stopping it all, the link to the bosses. And you're going to want him very, very dead. The girl will be all right. We'll get her through. Oh, this is going to be fun. Clete... Oh, my. Yes. A lot of fun."

  "Lane, what's the 'Clete, oh my?' It makes me nervous when you do that."

  "Don't worry. You won't have any problem. Dutch and I can put up with our teeth rattling a few days."

  "A FEW DAYS?!"

  "A sideline they're in. Yes! We learn the magic! Well, some of it. Not quite the way he did it. That's a function of who he is, but someday... Too bad. We should have kept a little to analyze. Cold turkey is hard, but they'll be grateful. That's it. Let's do it."

  "Dutch, he got excited about magic and 'someday' was a promise."

  "That doesn't surprise me, Clete. His eyes lit up every time Dad did a bit of magic. What's first, Lane?"

  "Frake's list. Hmm... Oh, I see. Easy. A horse race. No, two. How about that? Real leathers."

  "Whoa. You're getting really excited, Lane, and Clete's about to start bouncing off walls. Since you'd probably say you hate to spoil fun surprises if I asked for specifics… Yeah, I thought so. All right, let's do this one step at a time. Frake, make us a list of everyone you know, or think you know, is paying protection, especially traveling shows, like yours. Give us their schedules, if you can. How does Merith fit in, Lane?"

  "She's our accountant, Dutch. She's a genius at estimating a house and keeping track of what money belongs to who. She can also figure out exactly what a show needs; costumes, props, equipment. The best little shopper on the net. You made a smart move when you hired her, Frake."

  "I didn't. She just sort of attached herself to the company. Said she'd always wanted to be in show business. Promised she'd earn her keep. She looked hungry, so I fed her and said all right."

  "I was hungry. I was also dodging an injector and one of those 'sidelines' this bunch are in."

  "Why the blond was after you."

  "Probably, Dutch. If your man in gray is the same as mine, he doesn't take no for an answer."

  "Now I know why it's going to be hard not to kill him. I really don't like to kill. I haven't killed anyone since... in a very long time."

  "Dutch, his bosses take care of him. He leads us to them. If he dies, they may get away."

  "Remind me of that again when the time comes, Lane."

  "I won't be there. Neither will Clete. You'll have to make the choice on your own."

  "Here's the list. About fifteen. All I can think of. I guessed on most. Shows with good draw that are getting dilapidated. Barnard's is the worst. His ship is in worse shape than mine was. Nice old boy."

  "He's first. They've got his niece. We'll get her and take her to him, then make sure his ship gets to where it's going. Dutch, it's going to break down in flight. We'll use Lissa and do a mayday answer. Replicate parts. Clean house for him. We have to let the two in the hold loose. They're our advertisement."

  "Damn. Let's do it. Let's get Barnard's niece first. Who stays with Melissa?"

  "I do, but I meet you on the ship. We'll have to work fast. It'll take all of us. Yesterday."

  "Let's move."

  It wasn't far to where Barnard's niece was being held. Clete went into the big house to get her. It didn't take him long to find her. He just followed the path of most resistance. He smiled at the bright-eyed little girl of about seven and squatted down.

  "Hello, Jeannie. I'm Clete. Don't be afraid of me. I'm your friend, or I'd like to be. I've come to take you to your uncle. Wouldn't you like to leave here?"

  "Yes. I'm not afraid of you. I think you're here to rescue me."

  "That's why."

  "I was really hoping somebody would. They think I'm so dumb I wouldn't figure out why they won't let me go outside. They said they adopted me because Uncle Barnard didn't want me."

  "They lied to you. They're making him pay lots of money. They told him they'd hurt you if he didn't."

  "I guessed that, but I've been careful not to let them know. When Mommy and Daddy got killed, Uncle Barnard came and got me. He told me we're
all the family we have and we have to stick together. He wouldn't decide he didn't want me. How did you get in? There's lots of not-nice men and Miss Perldick. She's not nice, either."

  "Come on. I'll show you."

  He took the hand of the very bright young lady and led her through the house. She asked if the men were dead. He told her he didn't kill people if he could help it. They were just napping. They'd looked tired, so he'd tucked them in. She giggled. He led her into Melissa/Lissa and she sat on his lap on the bridge. Lane dropped Lissa free not far from the ship that had just sounded a mayday.

  "Private yacht Lissa responding. We're on our way. Barnard, we have the parts you need and a surprise for you. Frake's on board. He'll fill you in."

  "Your ship is very fast, Clete."

  "Yes, Jeannie, she's as fast as any other ship in space. My brother Dutch is also a very good pilot."

  "Uncle Barnard sounded surprised. He likes Mr. Herpith."

  "You can call me Frake, Jeannie. You're his big surprise. He's been very worried about you."

  "I've been worried about him too. He needs me to take care of him, so he can take care of everybody else. Clete, where did your other brother go?"

  "He went in the cargo hold, Jeannie."

  "Come on, Clete. There isn't much time. We've got to get that ship fixed. That drive is bad. Frake, careful what you say about us. Come on, come on, get the hatch open. Hello, Barnard. I'm Dutch. Talk to Frake. I can hear-- Clete! Come on!"

  "I hear it! Bye, Jeannie."

  "Who was-- Jeannie? JEANNIE!"

  "Hi, Uncle Barnard. Here's a tissue. You're getting the pretty dress Clete gave me all wet. Now stop crying. I'm safe. You haven't been taking care of yourself. You're a mess, but it'll be better now I'm here."

  "Yes, Jeannie. Much better. Frake, what's going on?"

  "You've just acquired the best guardian angels in the business. Get your people together and keep them out of their way. And I'll tell you what real protection is. This is Merith. Oops. Wait'll they get by. Now, you get going. We'll meet you in your cabin. Questions later. Go!"

  Lane ran into engineering with parts they needed now! They worked fast. After a few minutes, they actually had time to talk.

  "Think Frake will be careful when he talks to Barnard?"

  "Yes, Clete, I do. Dutch, hand me that spanner. All right. Life support will hobble along until we get the rest of the parts replicated."

  "I want to get that drive fixed first, Lane. Clete and I barely got it shut down in time. It was about to blow. We cut it a little fine."

  "We had to wait for the mayday. You'll need an EVA suit. Don't use one of Barnard's. Get one from Lissa."

  "Tubes fouled. I just knew it. Nasty job to do in space. Easy to hole a suit."

  "Dutch, hold your breath and speed up your metabolism. Your body won't decompress. Get in within five minutes."

  "I'm going to hole the suit. I hope you're right. What am I saying? You're always right. I hope."

  "Clete, you handle the airlock for him. He's going to cut it fine. Override the automatics. Don't wait for it to pressurize. Make sure you tell me about it when you get him in. That's where the memory comes from. Get started now. He'll be ready to go. I'll replicate drive parts. See you on Lissa."

  "Done."

  Lane got back with the first load of parts just in time to stop the fellow about to take the housing off the number one power generator.

  "Don't touch that! Go find the rest of your people and stay with them. We'll show you what we did when we get done. Dutch is going to give you a very thorough lesson in drive maintenance. Get out of the way!"

  Lane watched the man head back to the cargo hold. He was a decent mechanic, but not much of an engineer. He'd been out of his depth. As soon as he'd gone, he headed back to the replicator in Lissa. He had both arms full of parts when Clete joined him.

  "Lane, he's in. Holed the suit. Held his breath, sped up his metabolism. Close. About five minutes. I overrode autos on the airlock. Popped it as soon as he got the hatch closed. He's hungry. Engineering."

  "Bring the rest of the parts and food for him. High carbo content. I'm on my way with these."

  Lane found Dutch waiting for the parts he was carrying. When Clete arrived, he tore into the food like a starving man. They rebuilt drive, generators, life support and the galley. Barnard was a pretty good hand at the computers, comm and nav equipment. The bridge was in fair shape. Dutch, however, was steaming.

  "You can come out and let your people know they're safe. Send your man to me in engineering. I'm going to have a long talk with him. Lane is sweeping up your ship. We'll space your extraneous cargo. Fire some people when you land. Clete will tell you which ones. He's on the bridge. Later."

  "Is he always like that, Frake?"

  "No. Dutch is usually pretty friendly. Except when there are drugs involved. Come on, Barnard, Clete's waiting."

  "And my ship is already repaired?"

  "No, already rebuilt. I told you. Guardian angels."

  Lane convinced Melissa to be inconspicuous and they landed at a racetrack on twentieth century Earth. He replicated a two dollar bill from a numismatic collection Meister had shared and won the exacta, visited another track and placed his winnings on a long shot. He collected, gave the woman from the IRS the government's cut and they went motorcycle shopping.

  Dutch decided he wanted outfits like the men at the shop were wearing. They told him they'd have to prove themselves. They didn't have any problems. They were careful not to break anyone. Getting the modified Sportsters through Lissa and into Melissa was a problem, so they took them apart. Water conversion to hydrogen fuel would be too obvious in the time they came from, so they changed them over to alcohol fuel and put them away. There was no point reassembling them, until they were needed.

  They went through Frake's list and Merith shopped. The money they collected for 'protection' returned the next day as ship parts, sets and costumes. Newly protected show owners happily followed instructions. Drugs were spaced and termination slips arranged. Frake and Merith were returned to the Merriment a few minutes after they'd left. It was time to shut down the sidelines. A few moments later, they were on the world and in the city where they would begin.

  "This is where you meet the man in gray, Dutch. You'll tell me about it. It's going to be very hard not to kill him. Just remember, he's not going to get away with it. In fact, if you kill him, you'll be doing him a favor."

  "I'll remember, Lane. What's the agenda?"

  "Clete and I are going to clean house. You're going to clean the streets. Send all the girls to Eight-three Harman Avenue. I'll start the detox program. Clete's going to take care of everything else."

  "Terrific. I'll be dying from the heat."

  "You'll be there before things get too warm out. Dutch, the kid comes through fine. We'll get her home. Get your bike and leathers."

  Dutch rode the city streets. The girls were all addicts, scared and abused. They really wanted his protection. After he removed several 'supervisors,' they believed he could give it to them. He sent them to Clete and Lane, nearly thirty of them. He found the man in gray recruiting, with his fists and an injector.

  "Get away from her. Do it now. I'm not supposed to kill you. If you use that injector, I may not be able to keep my promise."

  "I don't know who you are, but you'd better mind your own business. My boys don't like nosy people."

  "This is my business. I'm Dutch. One of the Gallant boys. Your operation has just been acquired. You've been fired. Get away from that girl."

  "Get him boys."

  There were only five of them, hulking brutes and slow. Dutch finished with them just as the man in gray injected the girl of about fifteen. She screamed and he slapped her down. It was nearly the last thing he ever did.

  Dutch held him in the air an
d looked in his eyes. He was shaking with rage. He wasn't going to be able to keep his promise. Then the girl whimpered.

  "Thank her. I don't want her to see me rip your heart out. Say thank you and run. Run fast."

  "Th...Thank you."

  He set the man on his feet and he ran. Dutch picked up the sobbing child and put her on the bike. He had to strap her to the backrest. She reached out an unsteady hand, touched the tears on his cheek, then passed out. He rode to the house and through the door Lane opened for him. A path had been cleared for him through the litter on the walk. Ten pieces of litter

  "Bring her this way. I've got a room just for her."

  "I found the man in gray, Lane. He beat her and injected her. I didn't finish with his boys fast enough to stop him. I've never wanted to kill anyone like I did him. She stopped me. She didn't need to see what I would have done. If she hadn't been conscious, I couldn't have stopped myself."

  "I know, Dutch. Even I felt your pain and anger. It was real rough on Clete. Inject her with this, then use the medunit on her. Both will lessen the effect of the drug in her system. She'll sleep through the worst of it. When you're done, find us. The drug they're on has an additive. The girls you sent and the ones who were here have real needs. Detox takes three days. We have nine more cities on five worlds, then we go back to the show. We'll meet the gray man and his bosses on the second world the show hits. You have to not kill him again on the first. It'll be easier. Door at the top of the stairs when you're done here."

  Dutch nodded and went to work on the child. They couldn't 'reverse' the drug, but they could block the addiction. Lane would tell him when she'd awaken. He would be there and he'd get her home. He'd thought he was prepared when he opened the door.

  "Whoa! Easy, easy. I'm here to help. Slowly. Help! Lane, I'm being smothered."

  "They can't help it, Dutch. Clete's on his way. He synthesized something to help with detox."

  "Damn! I hope he... hurries."

  "I did. Here use this on them. Don't worry if you lose track. Extra doses won't hurt. Unh. Did you say three days, Lane?"

  "Yes, and nine... cities."

  "Done."

  Dutch was sitting beside her when the girl awoke. She was shaking and sweating. She grabbed for him, but he held her off.

  "It's the drug they gave you. You're almost through. We got a blocking agent into you to prevent the addiction. I can put you back to sleep if you want me to."

  "No. Oh! Find me something! Something to do!"

  "Can you cook? There are a lot of women here who need food. They're all the way addicted. My brothers and I are... "

  "Busy, I'll bet. I'll cook. It's better if... I think you should show me the kitchen, then go away. I know what the stuff does. I'll fight it. It'll just be easier if you're not close."

  "I'm Dutch. I'll show you the kitchen. What's your name?"

  "Chrissa. On second thought, you go on. I'll find the kitchen."

  Dutch grinned. She'd be out from under the influence of both drugs in a few hours. He'd take her home as soon as she was. Until then, he'd stay out of the kitchen. Clete was sleeping. He wished he could sleep, but his teeth felt like they were rattling. Clete purred in his sleep.

  "Chrissa is cooking for us all. Some of you. Damn! Some of you go help. Bring... ow... easy... food back for us. Clete! Wake up! Go ahead. Wake him."

  "Oh. Hello. Take a nap, Dutch."

  "Lane needs one. I'm... fine."

  "You heard. I need a nap. Clete, stop purring!"

  Dutch needed a rest by the time all the women had been fed. Lane told him Crissa was ready to go home and he smiled as he headed for the kitchen. It was exactly the break he wanted.

  "Hi, Chrissa. Ready to go home?"

  "Can you get along without a cook?"

  "Yes, the drugs are wearing off. We'll be making coffee and passing out pain killers for the next day-and-a-half."

  "Dutch, a lot of these girls aren't much older than I am. That man did the same thing to them as he tried to do to me. He likes to beat them up. He deserves what you wanted to do to him."

  "I know. It will happen, Chrissa. He won't get any more girls. I promise."

  He took her home and was very surprised when she kissed him. She whispered, "It wasn't all the drug." He grinned as she ran in the front door. Her parents were good ones. She was proof of it. She'd called them, as soon as she awakened. Her father stepped out of the door, as he pulled away, quickly. He felt nice, but he already had all the thank-yous he could handle. He rode back to the house and sighed. His teeth were rattling again.

  It wasn't fun, but Clete found helping the women very pleasurable and his total understanding, including of what the drug did to them how, assured them of their identity as individuals. There was even laughter and shared humor. The purring was an irritation, but he didn't really resent it, nor look forward to the end of it. Clete would share their suffering, just as he did their pleasure and gratitude.

  Withdrawal wasn't easy for any of them. The women shook and cried and begged for the drug. Clete held the young ones who were terrified. Dutch and Lane did their best to help, but he was their most effective detox agent. Small doses of pain killer were given to the girls he said needed them badly. None of the girls had been addicts before they were recruited with an injector. There would be no relapses among them. Then they moved and started on a new city. When they rode their bikes back to Melissa after finishing that one, Dutch climbed off his and sighed. Clete raised an eyebrow and Lane smiled and nodded.

  "What's the matter, Dutch?"

  "I wish they hadn't been quite so grateful, Lane."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I'm tired of my teeth rattling."

  "You're just plain tired. We need rest. Leave the bike and hit the spa. Clete can load it. I'd love to see their faces when they find out we busted their sideline on five different planets on the same three days."

  "Isn't that telling them something we don't want them to know?"

  "Do you want them to believe the man in gray when he tells them he's seen us in the show on one of the same days?"

  "No. You're right. Who'd believe it? Lane, what's wrong? Clete! Help me with him. The couch. Lane?"

  "He's dizzy, Dutch, but not... in trouble."

  "I'm... all right. It all came back. I can see... forever again. Most of the dross is gone. Just one path again. All the roads not taken... aren't there. I'm fine. Go on. Get some rest. I'll look a bit."

  They spent forty-two days on five worlds, with recovery time between, all on the same three days, then landed Melissa on the Merriment ten minutes after they'd dropped Frake and Merith off. They started rehearsals and were ready when they landed two days later. Another beauty pageant was about to go on. Clete looked up in surprise when Frake walked over to where they were assembling risers.

  "Exasperated? You feel like you're growling under your breath."

  "Good description, Clete. They haven't done any paring down at all."

  "I thought the place was too crowded. Left it all to you?"

  "I hope you boys don't mind. You and Merith are going to judge the preliminary rounds. We'll never get this thing on otherwise. No real problem. The scoring sheets are simple. This is all talent and personality. Beauty we leave to the judges picked by the sponsors. This is an all human pageant. You'll even know if the music is good. I'm going to visit the circus and have a look around."

  "Frake you're going to find out they're paying too. Don't mention us. We have to do this one ourselves. It's very nasty. People will get killed if it's not handled exactly right. There are a whole bunch of bad apples in that barrel."

  "Understood, Lane. I'll stick to my regular routine of 'Hi, we're the other attraction. How are the crowds?' and leave it at that."

  "Good. We'll do our best here. Later."

 
; Merith had to remind them everyone wasn't perfect. They finally started giving realistic scores after they'd had to sit through two very bad performances twice. Merith was very fair. If they handed her something unrealistic, she called the entire group of six for a repeat. She was also good at keeping the contestants from trying to influence them. Dutch thought she was a little too good. He didn't really meet anyone.

  The contestants were grouped by type of performance, but the groups weren't all singers together, then all dancers. Just as they began to get tired of something, the type of performance changed. The 'personality interviews' were intersprersed with them as well. Merith noted there was a great deal more to Frake's job, and Frake, than was apparent on the surface. They all agreed. He'd set it up so what could have been a tedious task was actually pleasant.

  "You know, I'm edgy. My teeth feel, well, funny."

  "Merith, you're sitting too close to Clete. He's purring. Our teeth have been rattling for days."

  "Purring? I don't understand, Dutch."

  "Neither do we. He doesn't even know he's doing it. You must have a fairly high psi rating. Most people don't... That's why you're so good at estimating a house and knowing what people need!"

  "How about that? It's good for something after all. Six more, then I'll tabulate. Uh, oh, three of these list their talent as martial arts. I don't know anything about them."

  "Don't worry. Just watch for gracefulness. We'll judge competency. That we do know."

  They got to the last contestant and things came to an abrupt halt. Lane expected it, but it didn't surprise Dutch when Clete suddenly stood either.

  "Damn. Stop! I'm not going to sit here and watch you injure yourself. What's the matter with your sensei?"

  "Clete, calm down. Oh, well, there he goes."

  "What's he doing, Dutch? I thought she was pretty good."

  "She's practiced very hard, Merith, but she's practiced wrong. Give him five minutes. She deserves another chance."

  "Dutch, a judge can't help a contestant. It's not fair."

  "Lane?"

  "Merith, he couldn't let her go on. She was causing herself pain. We saw it too. She nearly dislocated her shoulder. She'll do something else. Wait'll you hear this, Dutch. You think Clete's purring. Hi, Clete."

  "Lane, you knew this was coming."

  "I also knew she wouldn't hurt herself badly before you stopped her. She needed what you showed her or she might have really damaged herself, Clete."

  "Probably. She took some private lessons, but hasn't started university classes with a new sensei yet and has been practicing on her own. I told her we'd give her a few minutes. She said she'd actually planned on doing something else, but there were so many singers she changed her mind."

  They waited for her to change and warm up. She came back out and started to sing in a clear, sweet, soprano. She sang the words, "Someday, my prince will come," and Dutch moaned in pleasure. She made the finals and a friend.

  "Hi. I'm Dutch. You just sang my favorite song."

  "I'm Sabitha Berke. Sabbi. I didn't think anyone would know it. It's ancient, but I've always loved it."

  "Mid-twentieth century Disney; Snow White. We've got a complete collection. Clete's even got a perfectly preserved cel. Fantasia's a close second, but Snow White is my favorite."

  "You're kidding. I thought I was the only person in existence who thought Snow White was the greatest of the classic animations."

  "It was the first of it's kind. Look, we're done here. I'm no longer a judge. I don't think there's any rule that says we can't have dinner together. Would you be my guest?"

  "I'd like to, but I doubt it would make my mother happy. She worries about me. She didn't want me to do this. She's outside pacing."

  "Some people have a low opinion of beauty pageants."

  "Some worlds only have them for females, don't have a university grade-point minimum for entry and prizes are money. We have one for a six-year sports medicine scholarship called the Junior Apollo Pageant that makes the competition in this one look light. I feel sorry for some of those poor boys. Two years ago a pair of mothers got in a fist fight, when the artistic director said one of two in blue needed to change. My mom just thinks it's too much to do right now, but I want that scholarship for doctoral studies. I'm not counting on it, especially after seeing the competition, but it would certainly be nice not to have to scramble to put together a bunch of little ones for tuition."

  "Dutch, take her mother too. They need you with them. Try not to break anyone."

  "Right, Lane. That's it. We're having dinner. Is your mother as beautiful as you are?"

  "More. She's why I like Snow White so much, and she looks like her. When she's not worrying about me, she's a lot of fun."

  "Let's not keep her waiting. She's probably worried already. By the way, I liked your answers to the questions too. Ah, your daughter is right. You are very beautiful. I'm Dutch. I'm your escort for this evening."

  "Escort?"

  "Yes. Too many nasty people around. You're Snow White. How did you step out of my dreams?"

  "Snow White was a young girl. I'm almost fifty."

  "I didn't say off the screen. I said out of my dreams. I like my dream women grown up."

  "Sabbi, we have an escort. My name's Rose."

  "It would have to be. Wait. Let me think. Oh, yes. I put them... there."

  Sabbi and Rose stared at the red roses he had pulled from the air and handed to them. Dutch loved it. He had spent days working out the math for the pocket of nontime just above his shoulder and stocking it with roses. He was using it for the first time and was delighted with the effect.

  "Just a little trick copied from a real master. Took my brothers and me a long time to figure out how he did it. Now, I think dinner, then a show, a little dancing… Oops, I forgot. Sabbi has a curfew. An early evening then. A concert? There's one in the park a few blocks from here."

  "The Grennert symphony with Braslerc conducting. I'd decided it probably wasn't a good idea for the two of us and was a bit disappointed we'd miss it."

  "I'm delighted to be able to assure you don't, Rose. I'm in heaven. A beautiful woman on each arm."

  They had a wonderful time at dinner. Rose was a Disney authority. She taught media history at a small arts college in a distant city. Sabbi was a sociology student at the university in the same city. They were walking to the concert when a gang of young thugs attacked them. Dutch was careful.

  "Good. I didn't break any of them. Addicts. Injectors in their pockets. I hate drugs, but they seem to be a symptom of societies that haven't reached the rewarding-work-for-all stage. Improvements in drive design will bring the travel time down and in fifty years you'll be part of the Fed and it just won't be. Sabbi, call the authorities. They'll put them in rehab. Maybe it'll take with one or two. Sabbi?"

  "Where did you learn that? How can you move so fast? There were six of them and they were armed."

  "Martial arts are a family tradition and I got a lot more training when I attended the academy. I move that fast because my father isn't human. They were carrying weapons, but they really don't know how to use them. Now, let's call the authorities and go to the concert."

  Rose laughed and Sabbi made the call. Dutch took them to the concert and escorted them to their hotel. Rose said she didn't have a curfew. She and Dutch were dancing in the hotel lounge when Lane walked through the doors. He met them at their table.

  "You were right, they needed me. Rose, this is my brother, Lane."

  "Hi, Rose. I'm sorry to end your evening, but we need Dutch."

  "I know someone who's expecting trouble when I see one. Thank you, Dutch. It was a nice evening."

  "I enjoyed it immensely. Don't wait outside tomorrow. Come in. I'll see you to your room."

  "No, I think I'll stay here awhile."

  "Lane?"

  "Sh
e'll be fine. Trouble is other places. Goodnight, Rose. I'll wait, Dutch. Don't be long. We've got a time limit."

  Dutch said goodnight and followed Lane. He caught up with him a few steps down the back stairs of the hotel.

  "What's up?"

  "Men with injectors in hotels, with weapons at the theater, sabotage at the circus. A very busy night. Clete is going to get hurt. So am I. Melissa is in the basement. We have to be several places at nearly the same time. There's just enough difference to make it seem possible. This is why we needed to learn the healing technique. Don't worry when we're under for a long time. We come through."

  "I don't like it."

  "I won't either. It's going to hurt. I muscled in on the circus earlier. Clete located a dozen roustabouts who needed firing and two performers who are addicts. One of the owners was the dealer. I bought him out. The other two owners were delighted. First stop Radmort Suites."

  They cleared five hotels, then removed six men at the circus. They repaired damaged equipment intended to injure performers and got rid of poisoned feed intended to kill animals. Lane put a hand out to stop them just before they went back into the theater where the pageant was being held.

  "This is where things get rough, Dutch. These guys are different. They're pros and they're after us. I don't know how many you have to take alone after Clete and I go down. We get nine together. I sent everyone else away. Get ready. Clete, backstage. I'll take the balcony. Dutch, house. Go!"

  Dutch ducked the beam and went after its source. He found him and went after the next. He heard firing on the stage and in the balcony. He started counting. When he got to eight, he felt Clete get hit. At nine, Lane. He took out the tenth and got wary. Everyone left would be looking for him. The tenth man had made a lot of noise. He decided he was in a hurry. He made himself a target. At least five more.

  He quit being careful with them. He took out four and listened. Nothing. He made himself a target again and someone nearly hit it. Three had fired at him. He found two of them. He heard a door slam and wondered if one had left. He decided it was a trick. He was right.

  He broke one of the two who had set up a crossfire near Clete. He checked him. He was in trance. He found the last man near Lane. He actually didn't mean to drop him from the balcony.

  Lane was in trance too. He carried him into Melissa, then got Clete. He put Melissa in flight and wondered where the coordinates Lane had set would take them. He was delighted when she landed at one of their favorite places to fish. He waited for them to come out of trance. It was a full day before Clete smiled at him, drank the water he held for him then went to sleep. Lane did the same about two hours later. Dutch breathed a sigh of relief and went fishing. They'd be hungry when they woke up.

  He spent about as much time checking on the two of them as he did fishing and kept a mental 'hand' on them the rest of the time, but he had plenty to cook when he built the fire and started frying them. Clete walked out of Melissa as he was cooking the last pan of fillets.

  "Mmm. Bass. Enough for three?"

  "Actually, enough for five, Clete. I figured you'd be hungry. I'll bring these in when they're done. Fix something to go with them. I can feel Lane's about to wake up too. I'm sure bass, pan-fried over an open fire, was what he had in mind for breakfast. He's awake."

  "You've been using a lot of energy monitoring us. Have you slept at all?"

  "Well... "

  "I thought not. Food then bed. I'll finish here. Lane will know. He'll be in the kitchen. Go find him."

  Clete was right. Lane was in the kitchen and had obviously made preparations before they went to find trouble. Dutch followed his nose.

  "Eat. The bass will be here before you finish your salad. Fried potatoes coming up. You're out on your feet. You've barely slept in five days."

  "I guess it has been five days. Didn't realize. Got in a couple hours when I got too groggy working on the math for my pocket. Then I played with it. After that we got busy. No wonder I'm tired."

  "Bass."

  "Thanks, Clete. Mmm, hungry too. Hey, you guys are the ones who were hurt. I'm supposed to be taking care of you."

  "You already did. It's our turn. Clete, get him a hot bath ready. I'll have our plates fixed when you get back."

  "A bath sounds good."

  "Dutch, we need recuperation time. We're going to spend ten days here, then go back and clear the theater."

  "You said you didn't know how many there were."

  "I don't. Actually, I should have said you and Clete are going to clear the theater. I'm going to disarm the bomb under the stage."

  "Lane, those people really don't like us."

  "I know. Ain't it great?"

  Dutch laughed, finished his meal and headed for his bath. Clete and Lane ate, then gently lifted him out of the water and tucked him in bed. He didn't awaken.

  They spent ten days recovering their strength and speed. They weren't quite in peak form, but Lane said they would be before they needed to be. They traveled back to the theater and he went to disarm the bomb. He didn't learn how many men had been left, but Clete did. They had taken nine together. Dutch had gotten the other ten alone and he'd only broken three of them. They left them stacked on the sidewalk with their broken weapons nearby. Dutch called the police and lodged a litter complaint. There were piles of trash in front of hotels, a theater, even in front of the civic arena.

  They spent the night working on creating and stocking pockets. It had taken them years to figure out their father's trick with the roses. They'd learned a great deal in the process, especially Clete. They'd all put on muscle too. Clete enjoyed math most with a barbell in his hands. Their father had put a reader above the weight bench when he'd complained he didn't have time for both lifting and math, and he'd been combining them ever since. Arguing they could work on the math with him without the barbells didn't work. Dutch had given up trying to change Lane's memory that it never would, while they were still in the academy.

  They wondered how long it would be before they could throw things into the air and have doves appear, or create showers of flower petals, or tap things into existence. Lane grinned and said awhile, but pulling a rose from the air for every lady escorted would make a nice addition to the show the next night. Frake found them putting the risers in place in the morning.

  "Hi, boys. I have a little surprise for you. I had the programs printed up. I hope you like them."

  "Featuring the Gallants as escorts. How about that? We're featured. Thanks, Frake."

  "You're the best part of our show, Dutch. I wanted to tell you so. Where it counts."

  "We'll costume appropriately. All right! You've expanded the show! I've got to find a horse. Later."

  "A horse?"

  "Don't worry Frake. It'll be great. Merith chose the finalists for your featured performances, didn't she?"

  "Yes, Lane. She said Clete was impressed with the martial arts one. The other four were strictly her choice. Dancer, singer, dramatic reading, and musician. Said they were too good not to use. I need to get ready before the local crew arrive to open the ticket booth and the lobby lounge. My idea of how much is too much and that of bartenders don't always match. See you onstage."

  "What's up, Lane? I like to know what I'm anticipating with relish."

  "Well, tonight we costume as fairytale princes. Dutch is going to borrow a white horse from the circus."

  "And?"

  "Clete, do you really want me to tell you who's going to win?"

  "No, it would be too hard to hold nervous hands and feel them hoping if I know they won't win."

  Dutch wasn't gone long. Lane and Clete were just putting the last riser in place.

  "I found one and he's a beauty. Perfect. I know what to wear tonight too. I hope we've got a pattern."

  "We don't, Dutch, but I'll go get us one. I'll see you in eight d
ays and be back in ten minutes. I'll store a lot of costume patterns. We'll need them eventually."

  Lane knew where he had to go. Only one place would have everything, Earth in the twentieth century. He spent three nights and a morning there; one night in the wardrobe at Disneyland and the others at Universal Studios and Paramount. He copied only two women's costumes. He spent the morning at the floral market in Amsterdam. He spent the return trip storing flowers in nontime. He found Dutch and Clete reassembling the light bank, but they were nearly done. Clete growled his hello.

  "I know, Clete, I need a nap. I've got real roses. Interested? I'll show you where I put them and tell you what I've got in mind."

  "Clete, let's get this together quick. He's about asleep on his feet."

  "Dutch, if you two don't quit abusing yourselves, we're never going to get back in top form. Lane says we're going to compete next stop. I'd like us to be ready."

  "We'll be ready if it takes a month. There. Let's go. I want roses that are dew-touched and real."

  Lane showed them the flowers and gave Dutch the codes for the women's costumes. He'd know what to do with them. He laughed when Clete scooped him up, carried him to his room and dropped him on his bed. He'd forgotten it was going to happen. He'd had other things on his mind, like keeping Dutch from going after the gray man when he saw him in the audience.

  Sabbi just stared at Dutch with her mouth open. Rose laughed in delight. They both recognized the two garments he held.

  "The song needed the costume, Sabbi. A lot more people than you realize will recognize it."

  "Oh, Dutch, thank you! They're wonderful!"

  "I didn't do it. I'm just delivery boy. You have to thank Lane. He put a lot of work into getting them for you."

  "Where is he?"

  "Asleep. Clete tossed him in bed."

  "Did he spend all night getting these?"

  "More than all night. Those are the real Disney. The same ones they used at the Disney parks on Earth. He didn't tell me how he got them. Well, the pattern was of the real thing. The gown may be old-fashioned, but it's fairytale princess beautiful."

  "Dutch, make sure I see him before the show. I want to give him a big kiss."

  "He'll find you for that. You can bet on it."

  He did. He also told her to make sure to listen for her music and be ready to sing any time she heard it. He was a bit dazed. He had known he would be, but reality was much more intense. He suddenly decided he wanted to make a change. He was about wobbling by the time he found his brothers.

  "Dutch, I want to ride the horse. Would you let me?"

  "Oh, boy. Clete, do you feel what I see?"

  "Uh, huh. This is a change. He's nervous about your answer. Doesn't know what you'll say."

  "I say yes. Whoa!"

  "Nice catch, Dutch. Let's get him over there where he won't get dirty."

  "Damn. It shouldn't have been that big a change, Clete. What did it do?"

  "Made him incredibly happy. Dutch, our brother's in love."

  "I'm glad it's her mother I'm interested in. This could have been awkward."

  "It still will be. I'm quite a bit older. Dutch, thank you. It doesn't change things on our current project, but it makes my future a lot richer. I'm going to marry her."

  "What's the sadness?"

  "We won't have any children, Clete. Not of our own. She'll have hundreds to love. She's going to do exactly what she said she wanted to do."

  "Build a place for unwanted children."

  "Yes, Dutch, we help her. I won't see her enough for me, but a lot of time for her. At least, if nothing changes."

  "Lane, changes we make other places shouldn't have any effect on her. You see her life. You're in it. We'll keep you from getting killed. You'll be there and so will she."

  "Thank you, I... I was--"

  "Afraid of change. We'll watch over her. What? What is it?"

  "Clete... later. I'll ask later. I see it. I'll know. Sometimes I get in a hurry. I want it before its time."

  "You missed this one, Lane. The answer is yes. When the time is right, we'll take Sabbi the son Helen found a way to give me. All you see is asking me when you're ready."

  "How did you know?"

  "I suddenly realized there would be a place for him. We can't give him one. Now, since we've got her future all planned, don't you think we should get to work on her present?"

  Things went smoothly until Dutch saw the gray man. He stood at the front of the stage dressed as a fairytale prince and looked like the hunter he was. Heads turned to see his prey. The gray man saw people looking at him and left quickly. Clete and Lane kept Dutch from following him. It wasn't easy.

  The incident had a strange effect. It should have made the crowd nervous, made the show tense. It didn't. When the gray man left, the audience stood and cheered. They didn't have any trouble telling heroes from villains.

  Sabbi's song brought a thunderous ovation. Dutch wondered why Lane hadn't ridden the horse. He suddenly realized why when he saw him talking to the orchestra conductor and smiled. Sabbi would sing again.

  The production numbers went well and all the performers were wonderful. The girls made their final costume change and the formal presentation in the ball gown competition began. The crowd went wild when roses were plucked from the air and given to each contestant. The presentation ended with the curtsy and the audience roared its approval.

  Dutch smiled and winked at Rose in the front row. Sabbi's very old-fashioned costume had brought gasps of recognition and whispers throughout the theater. The world was a bit 'arts crazy' in general and media history was a popular hobby. Two of the judges had recognized it, too.

  The runners-up were named and Clete and Dutch grinned at Lane. He looked like a runner in a race, waiting for the starting gun.

  Merith was holding the beautiful white horse in the wings and the orchestra conductor whispered instructions. They all knew. It had become obvious to everyone but her. Frake opened the envelope and called out, "And the winner of the twenty-fifth annual Woman of Our Dreams Pageant is... Sabitha Berke!"

  She looked stunned. Frake escorted her to center stage and the previous year's winner crowned her. Clete draped the sash and Dutch fastened the cape. Lane dropped down on one knee before her. There was a flash of light and he held a bouquet of eighteen, dew-fresh, long-stemmed, red roses up to her. He rose and laid them in her arms and they bowed her onto the runway. When she reached the end of it, the orchestra segued into her song. A hush fell over the audience and they watched.

  Lane rode out onto the runway on the magnificent white horse and lifted his beautiful baritone voice in duet. She turned, saw him, and watched him dismount

  "I'm here, if you'll have me."

  He took her in his arms and kissed her. He lifted her onto the saddle and mounted. The crowd went crazy. They rode back to center stage and the other contestants showered them with their flowers. Sabbi settled into Lane's arms and leaned against his chest. Her prince had come.

  Dutch leapt off the stage, bowed, and offered Rose his arm. He escorted her to the stage and Clete bowed and offered his. Dutch grinned at Clete.

  "Since it looks like we're going to be family, why don't you come to dinner in our home tonight?"

  Frake cued a spotlight on Sabbi and Lane and brought the stage lights down. The conductor led the orchestra into a soft reprise of her song and the audience began to sing. At first, a soft voice here and there, but soon, a chorus that filled the theater with song and eyes with tears. No one would ever forget the night they saw a fairytale come true.

  Clete shook his head when Dutch escorted Rose into the kitchen after giving her a tour of Melissa. He'd have known what the headshake meant even if Rose hadn't voiced it as soon as she sat down.

  "You do know this isn't possible?"

  "Why does everyone I bring home say that? It's possible or i
t wouldn't exist, Rose. It's just based on some very complicated physics. It's a dimensional matrix."

  "Dutch, who are you? Who is my daughter so suddenly in love with? What are you doing with this show?"

  "We're half-brothers. We all have the same father. Gallant, Knight Hero. He's not human. The ship is his creation. We have been accepted as the defenders of life in this universe. Clete is Sir Pericles Buchannon, Knight Guardian. I'm Sir Roberrin Duchelle, Knight Champion. Lane is Sir Apollo Avelaine, Knight Judge. He's the son of two good and powerful beings. He sees the future. We're here to end a very nasty ring of extortion, forced prostitution and drug smuggling. This group of worlds can't become part of the Fed until that's done."

  "The man tonight?"

  "I was just a bit too late to stop him from beating up a fifteen-year-old girl and injecting her with drugs. He was recruiting. We got her through it. I didn't kill him because Lane said he'll lead us to the bosses."

  "But you wanted to."

  "Oh, yes."

  "Good."

  "Rose, you surprise me."

  "My husband was a police officer, a detective. Five years ago he stumbled across something really evil. He was murdered on our doorstep. Overdosed with drugs. I didn't see the killer's face, but he wore gray. Now, how do you three cause enough trouble to break up something the size of what he found? It covered most of the unaligned planets in this sector."

  "By being several places at once. You're in a ship that travels in time and space. Sabbi won't be alone most of the time."

  "She's very young, Dutch."

  "Lane knows. It's one of the first things he said. He's patient. He really does see the future. Remembers it."

  "Why didn't he know about Sabbi before?"

  "You ask hard questions. We change the future. We make choices."

  "Tell her true, Dutch. You change the future. Lane didn't know about Sabbi until you changed the future. You told him he could ride the horse."

  "Thanks, Clete, you're a big help."

  "Rose, each of us brings something to what we are. Lane is the investigator, the inquiring mind. I'm an empath, the feeling and the, might as well say it, passion. Dutch is the driving force, the will. Together, we make a pretty powerful team. We've chosen to make ourselves into a force for good."

  "And who decides what good is?"

  "You're right, Dutch, she does ask hard questions. He had to earn it first, but Dutch was given the right and responsibility to decide. Don't ask by who. This one you have to take on faith, just as we did. Now, let's have supper. We've had to give this explanation too many times. You deserved it, so we did it again."

  "Where are Sabbi and Lane?"

  "In his apartments. I'd say she's getting the same explanation you are. Come on, Rose, relax. You trust us in general. Trust Lane. He really is her prince."

  "How old is he?"

  "Twenty-eight. Give or take a few million years and a universe or two."

  "That answer was not reassuring."

  "It wasn't meant to be. Rose, she loves him. He's worthy of it. That's enough. Now, let's eat. I'm starving."

  Clete didn't quite know what to do about her. She was still worried and nervous. Sabbi and Lane solved the problem. They walked in hand-in-hand and so obviously in love, she melted. All her reservations evaporated. Her daughter was happy. It was enough.

  The little kitchen nook became warm and cozy and they became family. Things even smoothed enough for Rose and Dutch to take notice of their mutual attraction again. Yes, warm and cozy.

  "Clete!"

  "What? What did I do? Oh. You know I don't know I'm doing it. It just happens when I feel content. I really can't do anything about it, Dutch."

  "What's he mean? What's he doing?"

  "Rattling my teeth, Sabbi. He's purring!"