XY-n 8 : Fallen Angels

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, Dan!” Xyn choked, “I have to find Jayk! I have to save him!”

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

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

“Who?” Chriss asked in confusion. “My Mom! Oh, sorry. Shar, I mean,” Dan clarified. “Yea, she told me. I forgot. You get used to it though,” Chriss shrugged, getting to his feet and helping Dan pull the now-unconscious Xyn up with them. They soon realized that that idea was not a very good one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mutant!” over and over, as found himself thrown down the hall.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then the headaches began.

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

It was then that he had gone to Kel and presented his case.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So who’s going to do it?” Kel had asked. No one replied.

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

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

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

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

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

“Lightweight,” Kel made fun, knocking back a swig of the vile potion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Trust me, let’s just do it,” the Pyro replied.

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

“It’s cold!”

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

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

“That’s all I DO think about anymore,” Chriss objected.

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

Chriss sighed. “Just get it over with, please,” he urged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How could you forget something like that?” Adam asked, winking at him.

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

“Just hurry it up!” Chriss groaned.

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

“Sewing’s a lost art,” Kel commented. Adam nodded.

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

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

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

“I can’t believe he did it,” Kel muttered.

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

“He’s the only one, and I don’t want to lose him.” Kel replied, turning to go.

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

Kel laughed. “Now what would a Pyro need with blankets?”

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

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

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

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

“Why you?” Dan protested.

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

“I don’t have a permit!” Dan joked, “And neither do YOU!”

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

“Since when did I bother?” he asked himself, powering up the craft’s computer interface. “Time to City?” he inquired.

“1.3 hours, present speed,” the computer responded, “Normal cruise.”

“Disengage autopilot,” the Hunter ordered, sending the craft into a descent for a landing in what looked like an open meadow that was well shielded by trees. “I hate the woods,” he muttered. Jayk stirred, but didn’t wake up.

Once he had set down in the clearing, the Hunter popped the hatch. The break in the rain was a welcome one, but he knew that it wouldn’t last. Painfully, he fired up his Psi. It took several minutes to fully come up to power, and his head began to ache. His Suit hissed and released an analgesic. He scratched at his ear, then turned back to his captive. Jayk was still asleep and dreaming, and the Hunter almost regretted having to wake him.

Wake up! he sent to Jayk.

The young Mutant took a deep breath and attempted to stretch, but his restraints stopped him. He was awake and alert immediately, and the Hunter could feel the shock and apprehension rolling off of him in waves.

“Don’t you bare those fangs at ME!” he ordered aloud.

“YOU!” Jayk gasped in shock, “Gods, I thought it was nightmare!”

“Your worst one, no doubt,” the Hunter replied, but his Psi told him that Jayk wasn’t THAT afraid of him. In fact, he could tell that Jayk was about to start baiting him.

“Why didn’t you just stuff me in a transport tube?” the Mutant asked.

The Hunter thought for a moment, amazingly, taken off guard. Jayk had thrown him a proverbial curve ball. “Maybe because I wanted to talk to you.”

“You always talk to your captures?” Jayk asked curiously.

“Sometimes,” the Hunter replied, stretching again and climbing down. “You want to get out and move around a bit? The sun’s out.”

Jayk smiled, his fangs flashing in the sun. He was warm and dry, and although he was a bit stiff and sore, he wasn’t actually in pain. At least, not physically. He held up his bound wrists. “I sorta can’t move,” he said.

The Hunter drew his weapon and checked it. “I’ll let you loose. You climb down and stretch, do your business if you have to, but don’t try anything, got that?”

Jayk nodded. The Hunter’s Psi told him that Jayk wasn’t going to do anything, but then again, the Mutant had already fooled him once already. He aimed the weapon and said, “Computer, release prisoner restraints.”

The computer complied, and Jayk’s wrist and ankle restraints released, as did the seat belts. Slowly, he untangled himself from the warm blanket and climbed down. His knees were a bit shaky, but the green grass felt good under his bare feet. The fact that he was naked didn’t seem to bother him, but the Hunter did sense SOME bit of shame. He also felt a bit of sympathy; Jayk was a full eunuch, just as he was. An involuntary one as well.

“Thanks,” Jayk muttered, stretching and trying to work out the kinks. “How long we been flying?”

“All night.”

“No wonder I gotta piss so bad then,” he replied sourly, “Do you mind?”

“Just stay where I can still see your feet. Besides, you’ve got a tracking device locked around your neck, so don’t think about running off,” the Hunter ordered.

Jayk scratched at his neck and the Hunter heard Like this piece of shit matters to me, Psion. Been caught before, got away before.

“That’s because I never caught you before.”

Jayk paused at that, relieving himself on the other side of the craft. “Nice ship,” he mused aloud. “Is it yours?”

The Hunter sighed. Jayk’s tones, both verbal and mental, were condescending. “Let’s just cut the small talk, alright? I know you know about N, the Runaway Bio brat from #32 - so start talking!”

Jayk was walking back around the craft when the Hunter said it, and the wave of sadness and regret that came from him was nauseating. Combined with his own physical weakness, the Mutant stopped and sat down heavily in the green grass. He bowed his head, suddenly worn out. “I won’t tell YOU shit about Xyn!” he snapped.

Anger, regret, sadness ... longing, loss, rejection ...

All of these emotions assailed the Hunter violently, and he was amazed at the depth of Jayk’s pain. He pulled his Psi back in just a bit, his head beginning to ache again despite the efforts of his Suit. He swallowed, resisting the urge to somehow become lost in Jayk’s personality. For there was something else there, something even more powerful, and a part of the Hunter yearned towards it. Beneath the pain and loss was love, and it was even more powerful than the nauseating wave of despair had been. He touched at the edges of it, and felt almost giddy. He hadn’t felt such in almost a Deca-Cycle.

“You hungry?” he asked.

Jayk nodded.

The Hunter reached into his belt pack and withdrew a small container. He tossed it to Jayk, and it landed in the grass at his feet. Jayk picked it up and laughed. The Hunter watched him, but didn’t feel him.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded, but his tone betrayed him.

Jayk opened the package and took a bite of the strange looking paste. “All this!” he suddenly gesticulated, and the Hunter aimed his weapon at him, taking a step back. Jayk laughed harder.

“Funny? How?” The Hunter lowered his weapon.

Jayk took another bite and looked around, his eyes becoming unfocused and distant. “I’m sure you know by now that I’m a Slow Mutant,” he offered, and the Hunter nodded, “and here I am, after so many Centi-Cycles of running and hiding, or being a slave, sitting naked in this sunny meadow with a Hunter - no, wait, THE HUNTER - eating field rations and chatting! I’ve seen my friends, some of whom I loved more than my own life, starve to death or get sick and die, or get caught by the likes of YOU and never see them again. Never known what became of them! Then I finally find a home, find someone who loves me - someone who got through to me after SO long - and then I change. I’m a Beast, did you now that, Hunter?”

Another curve ball.

The Hunter nodded. “The Computer mentioned it after it scanned you, and well, uh, the way I found you, I have to admit that I was sort of wondering.”

“Kel,” the Mutant said flatly, his mind betraying his disgust. “He wanted to leave Xyn behind to die. He got what he deserved.”

Yet there was a note of something else in Jayk’s voice, and the Hunter let slip his Psi just a bit more. Self-loathing. He might talk big, but the Hunter knew then that the killing was almost more than Jayk could bear.

“Everyone calls him that, N, that is,” the Hunter said, a chill going down his spine at Jayk’s callous dismissal of the atrocity, despite what his Psi told him.

Jayk nodded. “That’s what he called himself. Poor little Bio didn’t even have a name. Didn’t have any sense, either. When I found him, he was totally innocent. He didn’t have a clue. He was just a confused and hurting little one who’d lost the only home he’d ever known. Then he met me. I didn’t like him at first, but I couldn’t just leave him. Figured YOU’D find him, or one of your crew. I can’t believe I did it again with him.”

The Hunter was intrigued, and he wanted Jayk to keep talking. Carefully, very carefully, he reached into Jayk’s mind and suggested it as he had with little Edward IV. Jayk’s mind was a fresh one, however, to him; it was also very old. The Computer had been right, and Jayk wasn’t lying. He WAS a Slow Mutant, and possibly the oldest one the Hunter had ever encountered. It didn’t work.

Jayk finished off the ration package and tossed it aside, grinning. “Oh alright, I’ll talk. IF I can have another one of those, that is,” he bargained.

The Hunter laughed at the audacity of his prisoner, but he tossed him another package all the same. After all, Jayk was worth a mint, and he wanted him in good shape for delivery.

As he was opening the next package, the Hunter marveled at how a non-Psion had known what he was thinking. Then he thought of HER. Or maybe Xyn. Now they’ve got ME doing it, too he thought, thinking of his next prize, N, as ‘Xyn’. Jayk was eating and still grinning when he looked up. The Hunter raised an eyebrow.

“It comes from hanging around too many Psions, you know,” Jayk offered, carefully licking off his fangs.

“You didn’t hang around N for too long,” the Hunter countered, and immediately wished that he hadn’t said that. Jayk slowly nodded, his grin faded away, and he sat the food down. The depression was overwhelming, and the Hunter felt his own eyes sting. Without trying to probe, he picked up the image of Xyn in Jayk’s mind; it was THAT strong. It was also filled with longing and love, this image of his quarry. The emotions were intense, and not unlike the sudden and terrible longing which he himself remembered feeling when he had been literally torn from his parents’ arms.

There was then a feeling of lust, and sexual arousal. The Hunter violently jerked his Psi back in to himself, severing the spontaneous connection with Jayk. The Mutant looked up at him, tears streaming from his dark eyes. He nodded again. “He was so innocent when I found him. Did you know he took off his Suit and put it on a little one there in the Ruins who was dying of a Remnant?” Jayk whispered, his voice thick.

“I thought you people didn’t get sick.”

Jayk’s reply was instant and heated. “Of course we do! We’re not totally immune, you idiot! Damn, don’t you know what’s floating around in THERE? That’s why WE go there to begin with, to hide from YOU! Or rather, from Hunters in general until YOU came along! But yes, every now and then one of us gets a Remnant or something and we can’t shake it off. And there’s no one there to help US. No doctors, no Facilities, no Parts replacements. We just die, unlike the Approveds who just get repaired!”

“You said that N WAS innocent,” the Hunter offered, trying to change the subject.

Jayk nodded again, his eyes distant. “He had no clue. You should have heard him talk about that prick who runs the place he got out of. Lucky for him it burnt down when it did, or they’d have probably started cutting on him for his organs and stuff by now, too. Maybe he’d be better off though.”

“I doubt it, the parting out, that is. The Director there’s in love with him. You might take some comfort in the fact that he’s absolutely miserable both day and night pining away over N.”

Jayk looked up sharply. “You really believe he loves him? I mean, WHAT does he love? Does he love Xyn, or does he love Xyn’s Psi? Or is it lust?”

The Hunter carefully thought out his reply. He hadn’t actually probed Abrams’ too hard on that, simply because he didn’t want to know. However, he had his suspicions. “I think he loved N for what he could do for him, with his Psi. He told me all about it, but I didn’t look too hard. I didn’t want to know. Maybe he’s a pervert, I don’t know. Maybe he’s been molesting all the little Bios all this time. Who knows? Who cares? In the end, most of them die anyway when they finally need a vital part that the little one can’t live without. I DO think HE was the only reason that N was totally unblemished, however. He was protecting him.”

But the Mutant was shaking his head, his long braided hair going this way and that. “It wasn’t like THAT, the sex I mean. Xyn didn’t know anything about that until I took him home with me. Hell, he didn’t even know what a Mutant was, and he was a damn Psion! No one was molesting him, trust me. He knew he was special, and that a lot of Adults didn’t like him, but that was because he’s so damn full of love and ... and ... I guess ... he so wants to be loved in return, but only by certain people. You know what I mean? He mentioned adoptions once, and how much it hurt that no one ever wanted him - but I don’t think HE wanted anyone to want him. It was like he bonded to this Abrams guy or something, and when he was gone, it left a huge hole in him somewhere.” Jayk paused, and drew a deep breath. “Then he met me.”

“And what about YOU?” the Hunter asked, his interest piqued. “He saw into me. He didn’t even try. He didn’t know HOW to be a Psion, he just DID it. After a couple of days, he saw how bad I was hurting inside, I mean, face it - I’m old. I look like a little one, but I’ve been around. I was a mess when I met Xyn. I didn’t trust him, I was scared of him, and THIS is exactly why!” Jayk wailed, his sudden burst of emotion very literally knocking the Hunter over. “I ... I’ve l-lost...” but Jayk couldn’t say it. He gazed up into the Hunter’s eyes, and thought I’ve lost everyone I ever loved, the last one to you, or someone like you, and now Xyn to my own Mutation! They left me because I changed, and killed Kel! And I did it out of love for Xyn! Why didn’t you just let me die, damn you?!

A cloud passed over the sun then, and the wind picked up.

The Hunter decided right then and there to switch it off. The raw emotion and pain in the Mutant was too much for him! Never had he encountered a Mind so filled with so many conflicting feelings. As his Psi went down, much to his own relief, the Hunter saw a flash of another face - a small freckled face with white eyes and flaming red hair. There was another confused welter of emotions, longing and frustration - and another horrible sense of unfathomable loss and utter helplessness. He simply couldn’t stand it.

It was almost like a computer that had been left online for far too long, the Hunter thought - too much data, the file tables too involuted to follow. Eventually, it went crazy and one had to reformat and start over. His mind raced over how it must feel to, in essence, BE a little one for uncounted Cycle upon Cycle, always young - always healthy. Jayk might not be a Psion, but the Hunter knew that he was getting too close to this one. He realized that Jayk had information that he really needed, but using his Psi was only going to get himself too involved, perhaps hurt as well. Again, he felt the temptation to become lost in Jayk’s Mind via his Psi. But he would just have to rely on his wits and skills, as the other Hunters did.

Very slowly, he walked towards Jayk. Jayk, however, didn’t move much. He only rolled over onto his side, curled up into a fetal position, and sobbed. The Hunter looked down at him, feeling his own hot tears on his face. Staring down at the asexual form of the not-quite-so-little one in the grass before him, he was reminded of a story that his mother had told him when he himself had been very little.

‘Long ago,’ she had read to him in a soft voice as he fought off the urge to sleep, ‘after God had created the Heavens and the Earth, there was a war in Heaven. Lucifer, one of God’s most beautiful Angels, had come up with the idea that he was better than his Creator and that he should be in charge. The battle that had ensued shortly thereafter, when Lucifer would not listen to God’s reasoning and rejected his love, had caused him to be cast out. Long and great was his fall, and a third of the Heavenly Host fell with him to inhabit the low places of the Earth and the Lake of Fire - in the end - when God finally finished off his Grand Plan for the Universe. For all eternity would Lucifer and his host, along with all men who fell short of forgiveness of God, burn in that Lake of Fire, in endless torment.’

The Hunter shivered as he took in the sight on the green grass before him, almost exactly as he had envisioned those Angels, one by one, falling to Earth.

“What the hell is WRONG with me?” he asked aloud, looking up at the sky, which was turning dark and threatening again.

“Because I can’t!” Xyn cried out, bolting awake and sitting up in bed, ”I can’t let you die, Jayk!

Back in her control room after so long, Shar’s Network connection broke as the Psionic scream assailed her. She shook her long, flowing black hair back and winced. Dan, Chriss, she called out Psionically, Xyn’s awake!

Yea, I know, came Chriss’ mumbled reply. I’ll go get Dan and see to him.

It had been a long and laboring trip back home, Shar knew. Their numbers now in the thousands, and her Psi still not used to it all, were staggering. Even as they had journeyed back, more and more gangs had joined them. She turned back to her control panel, where there danced several images of the Com-Tell satellite, an image of the Hunter, and an image of the most stable buildings in the area that Shar could find. Within that image, powered by an immense program that Kel had written for them long ago, were signs of life on all of the lower floors. Most of the old buildings reached up into the very sky, but they were structurally sound. After all, the diseases that had made this place the Ruins had not harmed the stones and bricks.

Still, HE was out there somewhere. She had felt him, so close, the previous night. Felt him hiding, however, shielding! She smiled. He was afraid of her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it were because he knew that she was an XX not prone to the fading of the Psi as most XY’s were.

She couldn’t dwell upon it, though. Xyn was awake, and Tym - the sickly little strange Mutant that he had befriended, was no better. Tym, like so many of the weaker newcomers, was sick. True, they now had food and drugs, replacement electronic parts for the Runaway Approveds who had joined them, but would it be enough? How long before they had bring down another ship and do it all over again before they were strong enough to carry outTHE PLAN, as she and Kel had called it? How long before the strange and yet compelling little Tym succumbed to his mysterious illness that defied treatment?

And how long before Xyn drove himself drove himself mad with grief?

“How long before I do the same?” she whispered to no one. Then it came to her.

It was devious, but she was sure that it would work. She felt ashamed of herself for thinking it up, but then again, she was desperate. She had lost Jayk due to her own hasty misjudgement; she could not afford to lose Xyn as well. Carefully, she locked down tightly on Dan, her son by Kel, and sent to him : Dan, my son. Listen to me. Xyn is going to kill himself if we do not give him something else to think about. Tell him about Tym. Tell him to come to me, despite his hatred which I can feel even now. Tell him that the drugs are not working, that we do not know what is wrong. Tell him that only HE can save his little friend.

She felt him agree, and rose from her Network center. Her step was hard and determined as she made her way down to the levels where the sick ones were being cared for. Already, they had taken losses. Too many losses. Mutants didn’t sick very often, but when they did, it was usually fatal. She swept her Psi ahead of her, desperately trying to function on what little sleep she had been able to get. Somehow she had to become accustomed to all of the new ones so that she could better guard them in concert with the other Psions. She thought of the Hunter again, and wondered if he were listening in to Xyn’s desperate ravings.

Dan and Chriss quickly made their way towards Xyn’s room, which Dan recognized as Jayk’s old room. He hadn’t thought it a good idea at all, but he wasn’t about to question his mother. They entered the hallway leading to the room, and Chriss suddenly gasped. “What is it?” Dan asked, his voice squeaking in excitement.

Chriss’ mouth was open, and his eyes distant. “Xyn’s calm!” He exclaimed, “he’s calm and quiet all of a sudden!”

Dan blinked. Not being a Psion, he had no idea what Chriss meant. He hadn’t heard a thing. “You think he’s gone zombie again?”

Chriss shook his head, his white hair falling into his face again. He blew at it. “I need to get this mop cut,” he stated.

They ran down the remainder of the hallway to Jayk’s old room, and not bothering to knock, burst in.

Xyn was sitting upright in the middle of Jayk’s large and worn bed. His blue/gray eyes were sweeping over the room, but his Psi was off. His gaze wandered from the night stand to the ratty old stuffed chair with it’s fillings hanging out to the huge bookcase and back up to the brass lamps hanging from the ceiling. He then gazed down at the threadbare rug, back up at the lamp, and finally at the two in the doorway. He said nothing, but his face betrayed his emotion.

Xyn was lost.

Beyond pain, beyond tears, beyond Psionic raging, Xyn was simply lost.

Sedated during the trip back from his unsuccessful attempt to run away in search of Jayk, he had lost his bearings. Of course, he knew WHERE he was - he just had no clue on how to get from there to where he needed to be. His mouth was hanging open, and he was trembling slightly. The room was cool, and Chriss began to warm up.

“Don’t,” Xyn implored in a small voice that sounded dead, “Leave it cold. It’s a cold and empty place I am come to now, perhaps forever.” He pulled the battered blankets up over his head and didn’t move.

Dan and Chriss stared at each other, and Dan could hear his mother’s Mind in his own. Xyn has gone silent! What have you done?

I think he’s lost it, mom. He’s in bed with the covers over his head. That and he’s talking like you do.

Tell him NOW! Bring him. I will be waiting. she ordered.

“Xyn, it’s Dan. Remember me?”

Nothing.

“Xyn, you helped me when you came here. Your Suit saved me, remember? Listen to me, Xyn. Tym is sick. Remember him?”

Still nothing.

“Tym’s sick and they don’t know with what. He’s going to die, Xyn. Tym’s going to die unless you do something!”

The head under the blankets turned, and were the situation not so grave, it would have been comical. “But I can’t find him now,” Xyn whispered, “I don’t know where he is. I’m so tired, and my head hurts so bad. I tried, but I lost him. He was there, I almost had him, but now he’s gone!”

“We’ll take you to him,” Chriss offered, carefully pulling his Psi in and hoping that Xyn wouldn’t notice the lie, “We know where he is. Can you walk?”

Xyn nodded again and pulled off the blankets. His hood was down. With something of an effort, he slowly stood up. His knees buckled, but he pulled himself up and stared at them. His eyes shifted from blue to gray to a mix, but there was no sparkle to them. Chriss gasped. For the first time since he had met him, the Pyro saw that Xyn’s Psi was TOTALLY shut off. He brushed his own hair out of his eyes again, and wondered how Xyn was adapting to the 1/4" or more of fuzz on his head. He took a few steps towards him, but the little Psion didn’t move. He just stared. The Pyro met his even gaze, his eyes wandering from Xyn’s small round ears and down his somewhat round face to his slightly open lips. Somehow he looked different, and then Chriss noticed the beginnings of musculature, faint, under the skin tight and soiled Suit. He looked back, closely, into Xyn’s drawn face and noticed the slight dusting of fuzz over the upper lip. Then he remembered what Xyn had said - ‘I’m so tired and my head hurts so bad.’ Chriss felt his stomach churn.

Yet he smiled and held out a long-fingered hand, and Xyn stepped forward and took it. His grip was surprisingly tight.

They led him down the long corridors of the underground hideout, each of them holding one of Xyn’s gloved hands. His Suit had since changed from blue and back to its soiled white appearance, having restored its wearer as it was programmed to do. The little Psion looked this way and that, but his face showed no signs that he had any idea of where they were going. When they finally entered a large room filled with bright lights and beds containing the sick and injured, Xyn seemed unmoved. He glanced at Dan, then Chriss, but said nothing. His expression was blank.

Chriss, however, heard the thought and felt the emotion plainly. Driven by curiosity, he had let his Psi hover over Xyn for a moment. They weren’t left behind!

“No, Xyn,” the Pyro said aloud, “No one was left behind this time.”

“That big man wanted to leave me behind,” Xyn countered, “Jayk was left behind.”

Chriss braced himself, but the onslaught didn’t come. He blinked. “Why are we here?” Xyn asked in a puzzled whisper, “Jayk isn’t here.”

Dan put an arm around Xyn’s shoulders and gently nudged him forwards. “No, he’s not, Xyn, but Tym is. You want to see him, don’t you?”

Xyn nodded, letting them lead him down the aisle between the beds. Xyn had never seen a hospital before, but it reminded him of that one room at the Facility where little Bios were taken to recover after a Parts extraction. He recalled that he hadn’t liked it, but Mr. Rick had insisted, saying that his being there made the other little ones feel better and get well faster.

There were small machines here and there, and tubes and wires of all kinds connected each person in a bed to many of them. Many of them were coughing and moaning, but most of them were very still. Xyn looked at each one of them, but with his Psi powered down, he really had no idea what was happening.

Then he saw HER stand up from a chair near a bed on the far side of the room. Her hands went to her shoulders, sweeping back the flowing midnight of her hair from her front. She stretched and flexed her arms, holding them out to him. In his Mind, he heard her say, Come here, to me - to us, Xyn Psion. Set aside your own suffering for the moment and hear me.

He went to her, but instead of letting her embrace him, he only stood in front of her - just out of reach - with the same puzzled expression on his face. He glanced from her to his escorts and back, and then down at the small, still form in the bed by which she had been sitting. “Tym,” he whispered, the Suit’s glove extension pulling back from his right hand as he reached out to touch the little one’s forehead. There was a support line of some kind connected to one of his arms, and several wires disappearing under the heavy blankets. A small mask covered his colorless lips and nose, hissing now and then as it delivered oxygen. His head was resting on a large pillow, and he looked so tiny in the bed. Xyn’s arm bumped a wire, and a computer chirped at him. He flinched back.

Tym didn’t respond. Xyn looked back at Shar, his face suddenly grave. His brows were creased and his jaw was clenched. The light of recognition was shining from his blue eyes, and both Shar and Chriss could feel something stirring within him. Xyn then looked down at the reddish-brown stains on the front of his Suit and back at Chriss. “What’s wrong with him? You were supposed to take care of him!” he demanded, reaching down to take the small and cold hand in his own.

Chriss took a step back, his hands going up in front of his face as if to ward off an attack. Although he could sense nothing from Xyn and was fast, Shar was faster. The feeling of a “wall” going up between them knocked him off balance and he sat down heavily on a bed in shock. Fortunately, the bed was unoccupied.

But Xyn did nothing other than run his hand over Tym’s mop of pale hair. It felt dry and brittle, and his ears - round and so small - were turning grayish-blue at the tips. Xyn examined the small hand, lifting the limp and thin arm that was free of a support line up to his own face. Tym’s hand was cold, and his nails were blue. His eyes didn’t move under his eyelids, and his breathing was shallow and ragged. Gently, the little Psion moved closer on the edge of the bed, and despite his own headache - which had begun to throb badly - brought his own Psionic abilities back to full assault mode in an instant.

“Xyn, listen to me, buddy,” Chriss was saying, “I’m no medic. I had to turn him over to them. He wouldn’t wake up and he kept coughing blood!” Then he suddenly collapsed backwards on the bed with a low cry, his hands going to his ears again. Shar took a step back as well, but she did not yield. The force of Xyn’s Mind slammed into her “shields,” but she immediately realized that it was NOT an attack upon Chriss nor herself. It was simply raw force - overspill. She gasped and made ready to withstand even more, but suddenly Dan was there.

“I dunno what you’re doing, Xyn, but STOP IT!” he shouted, making a lunge towards him.

Shar, however, caught her son and pulled him back. She smacked him across the buttocks, hard, with her open palm. “He’s not attacking!” She snapped at him, firmly holding him by the upper arm.

Dan looked confused. “B-but he’s hurting Chriss!” The little malfunctioning Approved argued.

Shar was about to reply, but then Xyn let out an agonized cry as his Suit hissed loudly. Painkillers were pumped liberally into his little Bio body as the Suit detected abnormal pain, but he didn’t stop. Slowly, he sank down to sit upon the edge of Tym’s bed, placing his other hand on the little one’s forehead. It was cold as well.

The force of his Mind was like a Storm outside this time of Season, which they all knew would begin all too soon. Shar felt that were it real, her long black hair would be billowing out behind her and her ears filled with its roar. She shifted her thought, however, and instead of a “wall” between them all and Xyn she changed her mental image to a “bubble” around Xyn and Tym.

It worked.

The “sound” of the raging wind ceased, and feel of “force” subsided. Chriss sat back up, his eyes wide and his mouth open. “Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed, his face suddenly red as Shar shot him a condescending look. Dan giggled, and she relaxed her grip.

“Your temper,” she said to Dan, “and your mouth,” she said to Chriss, but left it hanging as Xyn spoke up.

Tym, can you hear me? Xyn was saying both aloud and with his Psi.

But the still form in the bed upon which he sat didn’t move.

He tried harder, sweat standing out on his face and his shoulders trembling. TYM! he screamed with his Psi.

His Suit protested, but Xyn didn’t stop. Then it came to him.

When he had first met Tym, looked into his Mind, he had been so taken by what he had seen - so shocked, so horrified, that he had literally tried to run. But he couldn’t run, his Mind having merged with Tym’s as everything that the little Outcast had experienced, everything that he had lived through, had become a part of Xyn as well. Instead, he had “run” to a place where he thought that no one would find him. Tym’s strange ability had indeed driven him there, and try as he might, he could not break free of it.

It was then, during his desperate attempt to save himself, that he had thought of the sexual experience he had had, his first, when he had inadvertently become Xyn/Jayk. It had worked the same way then, but the difference had been that Jayk had had barriers in his Mind. Tym had none. He had tried to pull away from Tym as he had Jayk, suddenly - for fear of hurting him - but it didn’t work. Tym’s Mind had wrapped itself around too much of Xyn’s own personality, and the only way out seemed to be to just “leave.”

Xyn realized it as he “shouted” at Tym, but he hadn’t know it then, when he had found himself in that strange and wild place near the blue waters. He hadn’t know Jayk then when he had arrived there either, because certain parts of his own Mind were still in Tym’s grasp. It had made his decision to leave Tym with Chriss all the more difficult, but upon his awakening - his return to the real world - Xyn had realized that Tym was clinging to something within him that only two other persons in the whole world had ever touched.

Something very important.

One of them had been Mr. Rick, the Adult who ran the Facility and liked Xyn. Tym was clinging to those feelings. The day that Mr. Rick had shown him the unbelievable holo-images on his big screens and held him in his lap for so long, his arms wrapped around Xyn’s waist and his chin gently touching the little Bio’s shoulder ...

And the other person had been Jayk, who had taught him so much in those brief moments as Xyn/Jayk when the two had become one.

Jayk, who was lost. Jayk, who had fallen with no one to catch him ...

But in holding tight to these parts of Xyn, all that Tym had had to offer in return had been pain, rejection, fear - and a terrible empty longing to just BE.

It had been all that Xyn could do to turn his back upon the unfortunate and sickly little one and to leave him in the care of Chriss, but he had done it. Once he had reclaimed that which Tym had taken from him - no, merely held too tightly to - he had known what he had to do.

His own Mind fully restored, Xyn had left Tym and gone off in search of Jayk.

Jayk, whom he knew was out there.

Jayk, whose death he refused to believe in.

Now, as he sat holding Tym’s frail and cold hand, his Mind assailed the little Mutant once more. This time, however, it was not to demand his own life back and to return to the Giver the Gifts unwanted. It was to undo the damage that he had inadvertently done by so violently stripping the first bit of Love that Tym had ever felt in his short life away from him.

Inwardly, Xyn wept bitterly. His face, however, did not move. Only Shar sensed the change and saw his eyes go flat and colorless. Once again, Xyn was pushing his already badly battered Psi and body to their limits, searching ... searching ... and not finding the one he sought. She brought more of her own Will to bear, then did something that she had not done since the days of University when she had had the breakdown that had driven her to Runaway.

Shar aimed a goodly part of her own Psi at her Approved Processors, the circuitry that had cost an infant Bio Unapproved his/her life to save hers, and aimed the results all at Xyn.

Suddenly, Xyn felt himself falling. His legs went numb at the feeling as the cold air tore at his naked skin. He screamed aloud, but still he fell ...