Skin Deep III - Chapter 3 - Shade Of The Trees free porn video

Chapter 3 Shade Of The Trees Catalyst n 1: (chemistry) a substance that initiates or accelerates a chemical reaction without itself being affected [syn: accelerator] [ant: anticatalyst] 2: something that causes an important event to happen. Gary and Michelle waited to disembark the small shuttlecraft that now sat on the pad at Rouston's small regional Shuttleport. Both were in shock that time had indeed run out on their orchestrated isolation. A situation that had been complicated from the start and only became more so as time marched on. They both reflected on a similar line of thought. There simply wasn't much to say. Each dreaded the job at hand; each carried their own particular form of guilt about their complicity in how they had gotten to where they were today. The concept of neglect and selfishness came into play in their considerations and while neither blamed the other, it would have been hard to convince either of them that their partner didn't harbor some feelings of resentment toward their mate. In the years since the design and execution of the accident that had been made to look as if it had claimed their lives; they had, at first, become complacent with their immortality. They lived as if they had all the time in the world which, it seemed, they did. This feeling of complacency invaded every aspect of their lives for some time. They all felt that in time, everyone would forget about SKINs and the Shipleys and they would be able to move in and out of respective family circles as they wished with the ease that any other family enjoys. This turned out to be a false assumption. The complications of notoriety had caused Mike Vello to attain legendary icon status when he vanished so mysteriously. By the time that Erin had been born, all they wanted was for his legend to die out quietly. Michelle's celebrity had been achieved on a world stage and was no more willing to die and go away than Mike's had been, even less so. It seemed that the longer they stayed missing, with no real evidence to the fact that they were dead, while her music and details of her fame where mostly forgotten, the stories of her survival only ballooned. There were some stories that even claimed she faked her death, murdered her family and had run off to some distant planet with Elvis Presley, for God sake! There was no limit to the number of wild tales people seemed to not only be able to convince themselves of, but could actually site some pretty impressive evidence toward proving their theory. The worst of it had been when the press discovered that Erin and Shelly appeared to be physically too young for their advanced age. It shut the door on ever returning in their life time to see them. In fact, Michelle and Beth had heard the door slam in their faces all the way from Pennsylvania. The message had been sent in a coded transcript planted when Erin had given an interview on her 100th birthday. When asked looking back, what she might have changed about her life in the past 100 years, she said simply, "Nothing. Those things that have faded from my life are better off gone. Time has a way of wearing you out and changing your perspective on what one believes is important and what isn't. Take my family for instance, if they had lived much beyond the point in time that they had, my son's life would have been a complete circus. I was in a band myself back in those days. The media hounded us because of my mother's fame and talent, not to mention her distaste for the spotlight. What kind of life would that have been for a child with paparazzi everywhere, frightening him, demanding pictures of him, invading our privacy? Who needs that? My mother was right about one thing, family is everything. All I've ever wanted was for mine to be safe and happy." The message had been received, special delivery via a bullet to the brain. Erin didn't want them to come back at all. Either she sensed something, or life as the guardian and protector of her parents had simply become too much to do alone. Reasons didn't matter, it was over and done; and done is done after all. Even before age began to catch up with everyone but the four from the staged accident, everyone that had been involved with their lives started to understand that the world was changing for them. Frank Newberg, Gary's business partner and one of the original six from that night in the warehouse, died suddenly of a heart attack at the age of sixty-six. Amanda, his wife and another dear friend was devastated. Neither Gary nor Michelle had been able to attend the funeral, which had been held in Rouston. All they had to give was money. It was humiliating to even offer such a thank you for everything that Frank and Amanda had done for them over the years. Gary was not to be consoled of the loss of his dear friend. For some time to come, he brooded over Frank's death and desperately searched for a way to express his gratitude to Frank's widow. Not long after Frank's death, Michelle (by then she was going by the name Jennifer), managed to start a series of communications with Amanda. The result was a trip to New Orleans to visit under ulterior motives. With paranoia running deep, Gary and Michelle did not contact Amanda directly prior to her arrival in New Orleans. Instead, a series of VID communications were set up between the managing secretary of Jennifer's and Erin to arrange an "open reservation" for her friend and wife of her late father's former business partner. The arrangements had already been set up; the smoke screen was provided for anyone that might be listening in, (if anyone was at all). Erin had thanked the woman who had met her request so kindly and made travel arrangements for Amanda. A week later, Amanda arrived in New Orleans to little fan fair. There was no one waiting for her at the Shuttleport except a chauffeur with a limo-craft and an encrypted message acetate. Once at her hotel, Amanda, far from the home she and her husband had shared for so long and feeling more alone than ever, inserted the acetate in her reader and read what had been left for her. Amanda, Gary and I are so sorry we have been unable to contact you before now. Please accept our deepest sympathies for your loss. Frank's passing has devastated us and we are saddened each day by the memory that he protected us for so long and we could not be there at the end to even say thank you. No one has been more kind and loving to us than Frank, you and Kit have been in the years that have past. This fact shines so very brightly in our hearts and we are forever grateful and humbled by the love and loyalty that you have for us and all that you have done for us. Now we would like to do a little something to brighten your days if we can. Please accept our invitation to join us tonight and every night you are here. We long to talk and share your company again. Let us share this place with you for a while and let us, if we can, try to put a smile back on the beautiful face of yours. Come anytime, there will be a HOV waiting when you're ready. Eternally your friend, Michelle The irony of her closing was not lost on Amanda and for the first time in months she chuckled at its perverse humor. "Eternally in deed," Amanda laughed, almost sneered in fact, as she took a small flame incinerator from an ashtray on the room desk and burned the acetate so that no one could read it after her. It was an old and well-rehearsed routine, a reflex that no longer required thought. There was no time like the present she reckoned and decided to make ready to go to the restaurant she knew Gary and Michelle owned and ran in the center of the French Quarter. She retired to her bathroom to refresh her make up. She still applied it by hand even though she had four makeup boxes at home. She removed from her small cosmetics case all she felt she might need and began arranging the beauty aids on the counter when her reflection in the mirror caused her to turn her mind to something she had read in the letter. and let us, if we can, put a smile on that beautiful face of yours. "Old woman, Michelle's going to be surprised," she cackled an old woman's laugh at the idea! She mused that it felt good to laugh again and didn't consider how, in months past, it had felt like she was betraying the memory of Frank to consider laughter since his death. In the past, Amanda had been perhaps the only one that didn't envy something that the Shipley's had. She felt she had everything she could have ever hoped for with her husband. Quite frankly, she didn't understand what all the cooing was about with these two when she had first met them. They were polite, considerate, and friendly, but you would have thought that they were Holy Icons the way Frank and Kit and many others had spoken about them. It had caused her to be a bit abrasive towards them at first. Soon she warmed to Michelle but found Gary very ordinary. He was nice and funny, sure. Many men were. Frank made her feel like something special, like she was truly loved for the very first time in her life. That feeling amazingly never diminished. When he wasn't there anymore she finally understood what Michelle must have experienced in those awful days in the early part of that century when Gary was almost killed. Frustrated, she finally gave up on the make up admitting to herself that her days of covering the furrows that now line her face like an airway chart were beyond hiding. Envy had finally crept into her heart. At night she had grown to envy Gary and Michelle. Frank should have gotten one of those SKINs they used for Randy, The one the other girls refused. She wouldn't have minded growing old but Frank should have had one for all he had done over his life for those two. She knew Frank felt a sense of responsibility for what had happened to Michelle, but she made out all right in the end, hadn't she? The moment of bitterness passed. Frank had only spoken of his hidden thoughts about the Shipleys once. They had not included the desire to live forever. He had told his wife that he felt sorry for Gary and Michelle. He explained that they had given up more than money would ever be able to replace and that they would continue to give that up for the rest of their lives. When Amanda had asked what that 'thing' they had given up was, Frank had responded, "Friends Amanda, their friends and their family. I couldn't imagine continuing on through time without you. They're not lucky," he had told her taking her in his arms and wrapping her up, "they're damned. I'm one of the ones that started that damnation in motion. I'm the one that's lucky not to have been caught up in it." Amanda stopped, ashamed of herself. She had grown to love Michelle and Gary and was always surprised when those feelings of bitterness ambushed her. She shamefully pushed her selfish feelings aside and resolved herself to having a good time tonight. Amanda discovered she was full of anticipation at seeing two old friends. Something she had not felt for as long as she could remember now. She found it felt good to feel life again, even if it was only for a little while. Amanda had been taken by street carriage to Jennifer's, escorted past those waiting in the rain to get in and seated immediately by a friendly young man in a tuxedo. The table was splendid; it was in the corner in front of one of the two large bay-style windows so she could see the passing pedestrian traffic of New Orleans. Not far away, playing softly was a large baby grand piano with an attached bar. Many of the patrons were sitting around this piano, speaking quietly and sipping their drinks. The tinkle of silver, china and crystal could be heard through out the restaurant as people spoke in subdued tones in a quiet dinner atmosphere. She smiled to herself thinking how very much the same this place was to The Red Fish. The nut doesn't fall far from the tree indeed. She smiled with the thought. Just then, a young man with a shock of bright red hair sat down next to her. The man smiled. He had his cooking whites on, which were mussed at this point in the evening. She smiled politely thinking how strange it was that the cooking staff would come and just sit right here at her table when she realized it was Gary. The moment was difficult for both of them. For Gary, all the letters, news articles and notices he had read about Franks passing burst into his reality becoming tangible for the first time since Frank's death. For Amanda, it was a closing chapter in a mourning process that had started with Frank's death but had never really ended because all the important players in the play had not yet made their entrance and departure. Until now, that is. The two of them embraced and quietly wept for a moment, then when they had recovered they parted and exchanged niceties. He explained in a strange Scottish accent that was completely out of character for Gary, that Jennifer (Michelle) was getting things ready for a night tour of the city at their home around the corner. He had Amanda all to himself for dinner. He would cook and then join her to eat. That made her smile. She wouldn't be alone for her meal. As they ate they talked quietly about home, the restaurant, his children and finally about Frank. At the end of the supper Amanda felt bad for having any bitterness toward Gary or Michelle or any decisions they may have made concerning the use of the extra SKINs. Frank had been right after all, they were the unlucky ones, Gary and Michelle. They, at least, had the benefit of never being separated from each other. But oh, what losses they would endure as time went by with them trapped within its icy grip. Amanda even confessed her sin of envy and bitterness to Gary, who only looked pained and apologized to his dear friend for having been the source of any pain she might have experienced. Amanda, at 68 years of age, began to see what Michelle so dearly cherished in this man. He was humble and so very loving, and Amanda was amazed that she had never seen this in Gary before that night. She found herself wishing she was forty years younger for just an hour as the warmth of hidden desire for this younger man gave bloom to many fond memories of love and touch and the bliss of being with someone when you turned out the lights. Amanda was horrified by Gary's tale of the dream he felt he had had while in the cooler in the morgue in the hospital. The idea of going to some afterlife, heaven or not and never seeing Michelle again was a fate worse than any other that could have dreamt up in any novel. She agreed and was silently grateful for not getting mixed up in this the way that he, Michelle, Beth and Randall had. When finished, she was given a limo ride to the house and told that Gary would meet up with them at Flints jazz bar and they spent the rest of the evening together. They not only spent that evening together but the rest of seven days. She hadn't laughed so much since before Frank passed. There were lots of tears too. These were usually broken up by storms of giggles from Amanda at Michelle's relatively new "southern girl" accent. When they weren't laughing or crying they were quietly reminiscing about old times. Amanda even read a copy of the long ago journal Michelle had dictated as part of Gary's Christmas gift that first year together. Her return was a lonely one, she left her hotel alone. A bouquet of flowers appeared at the desk when she checked out. There was no Gary and Michelle. They had offered but she told them it would be too hard to say goodbye right there in front of everyone. "It would be better if I could just check out and go." Her words would haunt them for years to come. Back in Rouston she had tea with Erin the day after she returned and she exchanged stories, gifts and well wishes to all the children and now grand children. She expressed their mother's sorrow and conveyed her homesickness to Erin and hoped that she would tell the others. Before she left she took Erin's hand and said. "I want to thank you for that. It was good seeing them again before I move on." Erin responded cheerfully. "You have plans now Aunt Amanda?" "You're a little old for the Aunt Amanda thing now aren't you Erin?" Amanda had commented and laughed quietly, "Yes, I have a few plans, things I want to do really soon. Seeing your parents again was good for me and it straightened out a few things in my head. I want to get working on them while their fresh in my mind." "That's wonderful. When will we see you again?" Erin asked walking her to the door. "Not too soon I should think. I really want to dedicate myself to this for a while. But you'll see me again. I'll make sure of that." They kissed each other's cheek and Amanda departed for her home on the north side if town, near where the store her husband had managed. That night she ate dinner at that very branch of The Red Fish. She allowed her self the illusion that Frank was in the back, giving direction and preparing her meal while she waited in the dinning room for him to join her. She wasn't even disappointed when he did not materialize when her filet of Sole did. She simply imagined him too busy in the kitchen to be able to break away at the moment. Afterward, Amanda returned home and slipped into bed and drifted off to sleep with a smile of the memories she carried from a full life, especially the last week of that life. At three A.M. the next morning, she drew her last breath. Erin notified her parents the following day. There was no hint of suicide in the autopsy, no sign of foul play or accidental death. She had simply made up her mind that she wanted to see Frank badly enough to shut the machine off and drift away. And it seemed, that is exactly what she did. As hard as Frank's passing had been on Gary, Kit Garrison's passing was harder on Michelle. They had been close friends before Mike ended up as Michelle. Further, although she never mentioned it to Gary, Kit and Michelle shared a different kind of affection for each other than Gary had shared with Frank or Amanda. They never voiced it, not out loud at least, but she felt sure that he at least understood Kit Garrison at some point had fallen irreversibly in love with Michelle. Kit died alone in a nursing home at the age of 98, some twenty three years after Frank and Amanda. He had no children that anyone knew of nor had he had any lovers either, again, as far as anyone knew. The quiet rumors that floated about from time to time suggested Kit might have been gay. These rumors were quelled out of respect for the decent man Kit was known to be. There were rumors started occasionally by new hires that perhaps he was having an affair with the owner's wife. Kit gave no credence to any rumor. He steadfastly dedicated himself to his work and craft, eventually becoming Head Chef for the entire organization prior to the chain's sale and consequently making him very wealthy in the process. The bulk of his estate was left to the grandchildren of Gary and Michelle Shipley. Not that any of them needed it. They all had more money than any of them would ever spend. The fact that Kit left is fortune to Michelle's grandchildren was seen as a final gesture to the family he had wanted since those first days in the warehouse. He wouldn't need his fortune any longer and felt it should go back into the family from where it had once come. That legacy of money was something his friends and the people he considered his real family might need in future years. Deep in his heart, he was leaving what he had left in this world to the one love of his life. The woman he had been in love with since that awful police chase on that muggy, hot Sunday afternoon, Michelle Donovan. He didn't leave a letter or a note of any kind for the Shipley's why he had left his estate to them. He simply passed away quietly, while playing checkers against a VID program, alone in his room, his head filled with the fond memories of being part of something larger than life itself. When the news got to Gary and Michelle, it was Michelle's turn to be crushed. She was sad that he had lived all that time alone and finally died alone. He had been perhaps the sweetest man next to Gary she had ever known. He had always been there for them, no matter what the danger or risk. If she could have given her heart to two men, Kit would have been the only other one she might have been able to love. The strain of Kits passing in the face of what Michelle knew he felt for her was almost more than she could bear. It weighed upon her like a mighty stone upon her conscience. The memory of their one fleeting passionate embrace when she felt Gary had left her forever, stranded in a body that would never die, gnawed at her feelings and soon she became lost in grief. For months after Kit passed she moped around the house refusing to go out in the day light. Gary would find her crying suddenly in the days following, out of the blue for months afterward. He would comfort her as best he could and much to his credit he never felt jealous, not once. He hurt for her that there should be such a large part of her heart that was in pain the way it was. For his part, Gary had understood that Kit and Michelle had shared something that not even he could intrude on. Nor would he, he was not insecure about a thing. Gary would quietly allow her and Kit to have what they shared and never ask how deep it ran. He didn't have to. He knew where he stood. Gary had noticed not long after his return from his hospital stay that Michelle and Kit had developed what seemed like an uncomfortable tension between them. It faded eventually, things returned to normal. But at times, when either Gary or Kit, or the three of them were alone together, Kit seemed to hedge around something that was causing him stress. Gary felt he might, all at once, blurt out some confession to him, a dark, malignant thing Kit felt had to be hidden from Gary. But the confession never came. Had Kit told Michelle something when they all thought he was dead? Had his wife sought some comfort in his arms and Kit indulged it or perhaps even encouraged it? He didn't have the answers. What he did know was that Michelle felt something for Kit, probably loved Kit in some way. He could see it when she had laughed just a little too loud when Kit told one of his so-bad-jokes, or drifted across the dining room of the restaurant the way he did, or just when the two of them talked when they thought they were alone. Gary knew that Kit had respected the boundaries of Gary's love and marriage to Michelle. Kit could not control how he felt. In many ways he couldn't blame Kit, who wouldn't have fallen in love with her if he'd had a choice in it. Kit had remained faithful to both he and Michelle and he could do nothing but respect that. In the end, when Kit died, they had all been the best of friends. It was a hard loss for everyone, especially Michelle. The reflections of loss now turned to their daughter Erin. Even though they had both known for sometime that Erin was failing, it was a shock he felt at the knowledge that this time was probably the last time. Gary couldn't help thinking how different this felt, 'No more false alarms. I could be wrong, but somehow it doesn't just feel like a chapter closing this time, it feels more like the whole damned book is being slammed shut'. She would now be relegated to the place in their hearts where they buried people. There would be no new memories or experiences with her in the history of their minds. When his parents had died, it felt he had been steeped in sadness. With his family, his new family around him, letting go of them had seemed bearable. He had more than his own feelings to consider. While he loved his mother and father, they had lived a better life than most in that time. He felt no sorrow, no pity that they had sacrificed anything. They had even understood the risks of traveling to some of the more volatile lands on earth and had chosen to take that risk. They had died as they had lived, taking risks they felt had been worth the cost. The unbelievable almost unbearable burden of sorrow he felt now, not just for the pending business at hand, but for what they had all sacrificed just to elude the potential of risk now felt to be more than the cost would ever justify. Perhaps he had not learned enough from the example his parents had shown him? Had their legacy to him been just that, the idea that some costs are never exposed until long after they have been paid, when it was far too late to recover those losses? His heart was filled with thick, black dread. It had been so long since any of them had faced the specter of death (with the exception of Erin's or Shelly's spouses) that they had become complacent, perhaps even a little defiant toward the scythe toting monster. This would surely knock the wind out of those once defiant sails. The effect on Michelle was already dramatic. Gone from her personality was any sign of emotion, mournful or otherwise. Granted, Gary reminded himself, the news was only a few hours old. At the restaurant they had just been transitioning from breakfast to lunch when the call came. Perhaps she was still adjusting from the great shock of having to slip from the ordinary into the extraordinary. Gary glanced at his timepiece; 3:10 p.m. It wasn't close to suppertime yet. She may be just trying to reconcile herself to the idea that they were going back only to say goodbye. He understood that she had expected to come home at some point, desired it more than almost anything. He also knew that this was not how either of them ever imagined doing it. God knew he was having difficulty with it. Or, she could be digging in emotionally for something else, like a siege. A small chime sounded in the cabin indicating the crafts landing pedestals had been locked to the landing pad and the craft was stable. All the passengers stood and got in line to disembark. Gary turned to Michelle to offer to carry her bag, "Let me carry your..." "I can do it Gary." She said sweetly but firmly, withholding the carryon from him. He started to apologize. "I didn't mean to suggest..." "I'm a big girl. I can handle it," she said flatly. The conversation, it seemed, was over. Together Gary and Michelle exited the Jumpshuttle and out onto the concourse. They walked together toward the local transportation desk in silence for a moment, when Michelle suddenly turned and laid a gentle hand on Gary's arm and said, "I'm sorry Gary. I didn't expect to be coming home this way." Gary tried on a half-hearted smile, decided it didn't feel good there and allowed it to slip off. Michelle stopped in the middle of the concourse and set her bag down. "I don't want to do this," she said with no emotion in her voice at all. "Neither do I Hon, believe me," Gary agreed. "No, I mean I want to go home, now! Right now, Gary. There's nothing right about this. I feel like everything is upside down." Gary approached her. He slipped one strong hand in between her shoulder length auburn hair and her neck and gently tried to massage her anxiety away. He marveled at the texture and softness of her skin. Even now, in the depth of their pain his love for her showered them both in rays of warmth and tenderness. "We can't do that," he said. "We've had more life than most, Michelle. I can't let her slip off without us, with out so much as saying thanks to Erin. I don't believe in my heart that you really want that yourself, do you? " Michelle lowered her head almost shamefully and shook it. "No, it's not what I want. I want Erin to be Okay when we get there. I want her to live and be young so you and I can be with our children and grandchildren again." Michelle paused; the expression on her face was tortured, pleading to him for some solution. When she resumed she sounded defeated. Gary could only remember her ever sounding defeated once before. It was the afternoon that their small Pennsylvania community buried Mike Vello in effigy. Sending him to legendary status, and forever forcing her to accept the idea that she could not ever go back to what had once been, even if a way could be found. She had lost her first battle with fate, now it seemed the two familiar combatants were at it again, with much the same results. "I can't have what I want. I know this is our last chance to see her." She wiped her eyes with her delicate fingertips. "I can't help being scared though. I wish I could, I'm trying. But I think I'm failing." She looked up at Gary now, those tender green eyes were wet, threatening to flood, but she was valiantly holding the rising waters at bay. Gary could see something else living behind the fear of the unknown and grief for her daughter. To Gary, it felt like a hard and cold thing, a thing of predisposition as if the lines of dialog for their little play had been chiseled in stone to prevent anyone from cutting them from the script. If that were true, then they were helpless to do anything but recite the lines and move inexorably to the next scene. To Gary, grief alone would have been much better. This was something he couldn't define. Worse it seemed to match his own apprehension of the moment. Is it that thing... that memory that didn't really happen? Is it haunting her? "I understand what's happening Gary. I know that we're losing Erin and God, I know how awful this sounds, but I have an undeniable desire to run as fast as I can from this place. Not to move one more inch forward but run back as fast as we can to where we started this morning. I feel like everything has changed," She looked desperately at her husband. "Don't you feel that?" He tried his best to rationalize the sensation rather than admit that she was forecasting an indefinable portent of unavoidable danger to come. He instead forced himself to acknowledge those common feelings surrounding the real event at hand and admitted, "Everything has changed. I believe that's what you're feeling. Dread, guilt, grief compounded one on top of the other Baby, it can make you feel like the entire world is caving in." Michelle knew from the way he held himself, the way he had responded that he didn't understand. She wasn't even sure that she understood exactly what she meant except to say that beyond Erin's impending departure, things felt as if they were going sour. It was the same feeling she had carried in those first horrible months after she had been transformed into who she was now. That feeling that there was no way to walk back out of the maze, but still in spite of the futility of doing so, you had to try. It had been the same when William had become caught so irrevocably in the wheels of whatever machine they all seemed caught in. The idea that something bigger, nastier was waiting just beyond the crest of the hill they were climbing. Something so hideous, so evil, that it would devour them if they weren't careful. It was much more than just a premonition. It was a dread that something was going to happen. She could almost say what it was, almost... but not quite. The shadows of that unseen thing were just taking shape in her minds eye, becoming clearer as they drew ever closer to it with the passage of each hour. It was something she could almost anticipate move by move like some story you had seen or read before many years past. Now it was only familiar in form, but you could still come close to reciting every line of dialog, missing just enough to be wrong in your anticipation, but yet, right enough to know that you've been here before. "You don't feel it?" Michelle asked desperately. She seemed almost on the edge of panic. Michelle startled him by beginning to pace in short deliberate steps in front of the windows that looked out on the Jumpshuttle gate ramp. As he was about to ask her to try to describe it in greater detail, in hopes of calming her somewhat, she seemed to anticipate him and spun on her heal to face him and said, "If I could describe it any better I would. I love Erin. She's my first born! Do you remember when you had to practically pry her from my arms? I was so protective of her." Michelle's eyes now began to well up. Her face seemed it would break into a million pieces and fall from its perch on her skull to the floor, where it would shatter yet again. He cradled her in his arms, and she continued. "I feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff someplace. I know that if I move at all, I'm going to tumble off the edge of it. I'm more frightened right now than I ever have been before. Even when ..." Michelle fell mostly silent. Her breath was labored and shallow. To Gary, she appeared to be on the edge of a full blown panic attack. Then something happed that would alter that idea as well. Michelle clutched at her chest. Her body lurched forward from the waist up, nearly knocking Gary over from the force of it. "Michelle," he asked startled and worried, "What's wrong?" She didn't speak, she only grunted a slight, weak sound that sounded to Gary very similar to the sound he imagined a person in cardiac distress might make. He bent and took her by the shoulder and moved her to one of the many chairs that filled the concourse area for passengers to rest in while they waited for their flight. When he had her sitting where he could see her face plainly, his worst fears were confirmed. She had lost all her color. Sweat had beaded up on her forehead and upper lip. She also seemed to be favoring her left arm and her face showed the effect of a person racked with cardiac pain. "Oh God Michelle..." "I'll..." she tried to say, but the pain to too intense to finish. Gary stood and cried out, "I need some help! My wife... Please someone get us some help...." "No Gary..." Michelle pleaded in a quiet, timid voice. She reached up and feebly tugged at his shirt side. "Please..." Gary swiftly looked down to the place where the distraction was coming from and was grateful to find his wife appeared to have color returning to her features. He knelt down next to her, "I'm fine, I think it was just stress." From nowhere, two ParaEMTs appeared and began unpacking their gear, "Please Sir, could you step back and let us take a look..." "I'm fine," Michelle protested, trying to waive them off. "We'll just have a look Ma'am," said a large burley man with a high and tight military style haircut. The name on his name tag was Roger Kimbolt and he was calm, insistent but also very gentle. "Really Mr. Kimbolt, I'm fine. We're on our way to see our dau... Aunt, our Aunt," Roger and his partner, Mike Thompson looked at each other, acknowledging the hitch in Michelle's dialog. "She's very sick..." "Well, let's make sure that you're not very sick too then... what's your name sweetheart?" "Debbie... Debra," Michelle replied, choosing to say as little as possible now. "Okay Debbie, just relax... How old are you Debbie?" "Twenty-one, why?" "No reason, well, to us as we approached, it seemed like you have a heart attack. Finding out how old you are helps us potentially eliminate some suspect causes and helps us focus on things that could be more indicative of illnesses for a girl your age. If we can rule out the most common of causes why you're not feeling well..." "But I am feeling well..." Michelle insisted, then suddenly let out an explosive belch. *BURRRRRP* For a moment no one could say anything. Michelle had a classic, 'Was that me?' look on her face of sheer surprise on her face. Then covered her mouth and said in embarrassment, "Oh... Oh my!" The ParaMeds, looked at first stunned, then began to smile and chuckle to themselves, doing their best to hide it from their patient. "I'm sorry..." Michelle said completely red faced. "Not a problem Ma'am," Roger said trying to sober up his humor some. "Vitals look normal. I think it was probably nothing more than a severe attack of gas." "I really am sorry... Oh that was just disgusting!" In spite of herself, she began to giggle uncontrollable. Roger looked at the woman and could not keep the smile from his face. Michelle blushed even more brightly than before, "I really am sorry about that." "Don't worry about it Ma'am. I'm glad it was nothing more than simple gas. I think however, you will probably want to stay away from whatever you ate last. As you get older, that could become a very real problem. You know, as your body changes." "I try to remember that," Michelle said shyly. The tension of their arrival was gone, so too were the feelings that they were the harbingers of some inescapable doom, for the most part anyway. The ParaMeds left, each one chuckling to other as they did, leaving Michelle and Gary both feeling relieved and Michelle feeling ashamed. Gary stood, doing his best to hide a smile that wanted to crack out into gales of hysterical laughter. He knew better than to give in to that particular deadly sin and kept up a strong front. "Don't say a word Gary Allen Shipley." Gary pressed his lips together more tightly, refusing to give into the temptation to say anything, even to grunt in understanding. Michelle kept her eyes locked on his, scolding him silently for what he was thinking. It was Michelle that lost the war of wills between then when she first snickered, then giggled and finally broke out into an uncontrollable laugh. Gary joined her and they fell into each other's embrace, for a moment free from the dread of the unseen and unknown, free from the grief that would all too soon crowd in and devour them once more. For a brief moment, they had a chance to reflect of the intense seriousness of their entire lives and thumb their noses at it briefly. Soon they were moving again towards the transportation mall of the Jumpport. All was somber and silent once more. Now however, Gary was focused on his grief, his wife's grief and her state of mind. Still there was nothing to say about it. Gone was the moment of gaiety they had just experienced, replaced by business of the moment. "Gary," Michelle said breaking the silence. "I want you to promise me something. Right now, I want you to promise me something." "Anything my love." He promised. "If I fall behind, promise you'll wait for me to catch up." Gary frowned and came to a dead stop. He pulled Michelle up short as she had tried to continue to walk past him, "Wait a minute, what do you mean by that?" Gary asked. Michelle's soul seemed to drift off someplace where Gary could not follow. Now he wanted to do just as Michelle's impulse had instructed, run. All his senses told him she was right, 'a storm is coming,' Michelle shook her head and answered, "I don't know. Just promise me." Once more Gary tried to smile, running his fingers through her soft hair. "I'll never leave you behind Michelle, Never!" "That's all I ever need to know." At last the tears came. To Gary they seemed like tears of relief rather than sadness. She stood on her toes and lightly kissed his lips. "I love you Gary. No matter what, I was glad I was able to be your wife." Her use of past tense, 'was glad' was not lost on Gary. It was one more worrisome coincidence that made him feel as if reality had shifted some how. Could it be they were once again no longer the captains of their own fate? Gary tried to dismiss the thought for now but failed. 'So much to worry about... If there is a God, what am I supposed to ask for here without sounding selfish? He returned her kiss. There seemed to be too much to say and no way to organize it so it made sense. He didn't want to seem trite by simply returning her words back to her so he said nothing. He slid one arm around her the small of her back and led her to the transportation desk where they rented a HOV. They were back in the building they had first called home together in less than twenty minutes. She was quiet after that. Gary felt uncomfortable now, like she was not telling him the complete truth about something. Was that just some sort of Freudian slip she made back there? Or has she begun to doubt her feelings about me? The idea if it frightened him now more than words could say. Surely not, Gary tried to convince himself. You're swinging at phantoms Bud... but the fear wouldn't leave him and the anxiety only grew. For Michelle, she was trying desperately not think about how, just three weeks before she had experienced a similar attack. She wondered if Gary could see the worry of it on her face, like an advertisement for the end of the world in bold letters emblazoned on her forehead. She didn't want to talk at all, fearful that she might blurt it out and frighten him. Still, his demeanor had changed. He was glancing at her suspiciously. He knows.... Oh no, he's going to ask me and I won't be able to lie to him. He's going to ask me and I'm going to have to tell him that I'm afraid I'm going to die... But Gary didn't ask. Instead he worried and she worried right along with him. They worried about separate concerns together. For the first time in their long life together, they hid secrets from each other unwilling, but unable to confess them. Golden Slumbers Charlie Dunlap was asleep in the corner of the locked surveillance room. From where Terri Harris sat, he was a small craggy mountain of a man slouched in the chair next to the door. He was there too keep Harris in the room as much as he was to monitor what Harris was doing. He knew that one noise that was out of place and Dunlap would be up and on him. The door might as well have been welded shut from the outside, Harris was not leaving the room unless Dunlap knew and approved such a thing. Charlie was a large man, larger than average with broad shoulders and squared off angular features that tapered down into a severe "V" cut torso that was a model of fitness. His legs were strong and as thick as tree trunks. At six feet seven and a half inches, Dunlap was an impressive sight. He kept his head clean shaven and now, after years of insuring that it was always at its polished best, he no longer knew if he had the ability to even grow hair. It was now routine use an automated anti-hair box on his head now that it seemed he no longer need to. He was here to ensure that Harris didn't compromise the data or its confidentiality. Nervously, Terry Harris was doing his best not to wake the sleeping giant behind him, giving him time to think. There was only one reason for Dunlap to be here. When Loudon wanted something done right, Dunlap was recruited to do it. Dunlap had said that when people begin arriving, he, Harris was to wake him up. He would make the identification and confirmation that the actual targets had arrived. The mice were coming; Loudon was busy setting the spring for the trap. Harris' eyes were sore and felt grainy from staring at the plasma screen for the last 34 hours. He had poured about 20 cups of coffee into himself in an effort to stave off sleep depravation. He could not drift off though, if he did, Dunlap would no doubt vaporize him. Dunlap's snoring in the corner did a lot to help him stay awake. Terry was rubbing the fatigue from his eyes when a small chime sounded. He looked up with a start. At the front door of the building they were watching was something that made his fatigue melt away, it was a young couple. They were trying to scan their prints into the buildings security system, but without much luck. Over the advanced ease dropping system he heard the woman say, "Why didn't we just go into the landing bay like we used to? We could have taken the elevator up." Then the male subject answered, "The ILS wouldn't allow lock. I guess Erin disengaged it to public traffic when people became curious about things. I don't' know about you, but that shaft is narrow and I don't' want to land that thing without the automation in place to guide me down." As the young man with blonde hair spoke, he was jamming his thumb in the lock-reader but nothing was happening. "Now why won't this thing work," he complained? "Here, let me try," said the woman who was really not much more than an older teenager. Harris guessed 18 years old, maybe 21 at the most and that was truly a liberal guestimate. "She must have deleted our protocols," observed the young man, "It makes sense really, why keep that sort'a stuff in there when we're supposed to be dead." Harris couldn't believe what he was hearing. He quickly twisted a few small digital dials on his screen and outside, two plasma waive transmitting devices turned in the direction of the couple in hopes of capturing their faces. When the male subject moved out of the way to speak into the closed circuit resonator, the cameras caught six or seven clear images of the woman next to him. The computer immediately started searching the database, comparing facial features on a 100 point system for a match. The Identify system was very accurate and could expect to find matches on 87 percent reliability from an image to a database profile. What came back was thrilling and frightening at the same time. The system indicated that it had found one match. This was unusually in itself. More often than not, the system returned several matches from 56% reliability to just under 90%, sometimes higher, but rarely. This time the system returned one match. It returned one and only one because the reliability factor stood at 100%. Harris rubbed his eyes. "No fucking way." He squealed in surprise. Behind him Dunlap stirred. The plasma display was suddenly spiraling out of control with a litany of information about the person the system believed it had identified. Name: Shipley, Michelle Susan Maiden Name: Donovan DOB: March 4th 2063 Married: 2082, Shipley, Gary Allen Occupation: Recording Artist The subject is a source of much speculation. No true birth records exist however, at the time of her reported birth, citizenry registration was only beginning to phase out of its final trials and go into nation wide use. There are many reported cases of system neglect and apathy toward its use. No follow up into family history was ever completed. Surveillance subject, suspected SCIN recipient. In all likelihood, the subject was in fact at one time Michael Vello before a genetic replacement mutated him. Due to a number of circumstances, surveillance was broken and the subject vanished from Agency eyes. The subject's husband was also considered to be of questionable character. Once the primary subject in the disappearance of close acquaintance and local music icon, Michael Vello, the subject was determined to also have been a contributing factor but was never named as a suspect in any wrong doing. Both subjects are to be apprehended and held for biological dissemination. Emphasis should be placed on the safe capture of the female. Her true identity must be with held from the public at all costs. Agents attempting to apprehend should use Sadist Hoods for female. See file SK-48973K (Eyes only) for additional history on related subjects and additional targets. End Field Report - August, 8th 2157. Without warning Identify sounded another alert. This time it had identified the man standing next to the woman targeted as Michelle Shipley. As the plasma screen began to scroll out the particulars as it just had on Michelle, Dunlap approached from behind. "What'chya got?" he asked. Harris was taken by surprise and flustered, he anxiously brought the information back up for Dunlap to see, "Priority targets, names... Shipley, Gary and Michelle, wanted for containment." "Jesus!" Dunlap whispered and stared at the spilt screen of the two unsuspecting targets and they talked between themselves. "Brad was right." "Who they hell are they?" Harris asked. He recognized the urgency but had no clue to their identity. "This is one of those things you want to pass on and then forget about. Believe me when I say that. It's best to forget anything you may have learned." Charlie said. "Copy that." Harris agreed. "Raise Brad, tell him you need him here now. Don't say a word about who, what, when or where, understand?" "Roger that too," Harris nodded as he reached for his Vwave ear-piece. "Lieutenant? Yes Sir, Harris. I believe we have something in the office here that you'll be very interested in seeing." There was a pause, then, "No Sir, I believe this is going to require your expedited attention." Another pause, "Yes Sir, ten minutes, I'll be here." Harris removed the ear-piece and turned to Charlie, "He's on his way back," he breathed with a sigh of relief. Dunlap heard this and commented, "Yeah, I can relate to that at times Harris." He patted the geekish, balding man on the shoulder. "I never thought I'd hear myself say this but, good job guy." Harris grinned. An hour later, after a great amount of deliberation between Loudon and Harris about how to proceed with containment and procurement procedures, decisions had been made quietly between the two men. Loudon seemed happy that Harris had done such a splendid job of identifying the subjects. In fact he seemed overjoyed at the prospect of closing down The Blind and sending everyone home with bonuses. Harris was still grinning at the accolades that Loudon and Dunlap had showered with during that hour of deliberation, conversations of which Harris had not been privy to. Just as well to Harris, it meant that there was less reason to neutralize him. He might see the sun come up tomorrow after all. Anything was possible after the considerable praise he was being offered. Terry Harris would never feel better than he did at that moment. He didn't even realize when Dunlap, now standing behind Harris, gently touched the twin electrodes of a contact disintegrator to Harris' neck. Instantly, the molecular glue that held the atoms and compounds of Terry Harris' body together lost their cohesiveness and Terry Harris' body dispersed into free space. As Brad Loudon walked away from the locked room, he smiled. It felt good to smile again. For the first time since he learned the truth about his mother and himself he had reason to smile instead of hope. He had them now. It was all over but for the great weeping and gnashing of teeth. Beth was waiting on the curb when Randy brought the HOV in for a landing next to her. She was dressed in a deep blue vintage 1950's knee length dress, open at the front around the neck complemented with a wide, white leather belt cinched at the waist showing off her hourglass figure. The bell of the dress was flared out by a petticoat she wore underneath. She had on short navy blue heels. She carried a white clutch in white gloved hands. On the ground at her feet was a very small compression luggage bag, pressed down to about an inch thickness and six inches wide. On her head she wore a wide brimmed summer hat with a sheer veil attached. It was fashionable, but also functional. It kept people from clearly seeing that she'd been crying. Randy's breath was taken away by her beauty. It always was. Even in this hard emotional time, he could hardly catch his breath. He hopped out of the HOV and trotted to her. "You OK?" he asked her taking her by the shoulders. She shook her head no and crumpled into his arms. She hitched there, her body convulsing with the pain of the knowledge that she was going to loose her sister. Erin had probably been the most help to Beth after her transformation. After having been warring siblings for most of their lives, they had become very suddenly the best of friends. It had been Erin had shown her how not to be afraid of what she was. It had been Erin that taught her to embrace and cherish who she had become, not just for Beth's piece of mind but for Randy as well. In many ways this too was a strategic difference between Michelle and Beth. Beth had been able to do more than simply accept what she had become she, acclimated to being Beth very quickly. She embraced femininity as an opposition to everything she had learned having been raised male. Even soon after the change, she had embraced the idea of who she had become and pleaded with her mother to stop seeking to reverse it. Michelle had been quite the opposite, not only with Beth, but with her own transformation twenty years before. Michelle had fought for nearly a year to escape a fate that she could not undo. Eventually she embraced not just her new body, but the love of the man she had shared her struggle with. When the same thing happened to her son however, she fought as vehemently as she had before to spare him her fate. She only later grudgingly accepted what Beth had fought to maintain. Erin saw past that and decided to take Beth under her wing. She had decided that Beth would need someone to set an example for her and do it fast if Beth was going to learn how to live as a woman. Erin changed her image as a rough rebellious young adult and redefined herself back to the feminine beauty everyone had thought she was going to become before her bitter years. Erin taught Beth about her body and how to care for it, allowing Beth to avoid asking questions that were still too embarrassing to ask her mother or anyone else for that matter. She taught Beth about dressing properly, prettily, especially for Randy, explaining, "One of those stereotypes of womanhood is that we'll do anything to please the man we're with. That's not true. Don't believe it for a second." Beth had nodded her head, her face set in with seriousness, her lips pursed as if she agreed. "However, for the man that can sweep you off your feet, I don't know a girl anywhere that would do whatever he asked. You'll find you'll want to look beautiful for him everyday. You crave the praise he gives you, even if it only comes from his eyes. You'll see it, I promise you. In time you'll be able to read his thoughts. Men are such simple creatures. But for all that, the right man can give you more than you could have ever hoped for. It will make all the effort well worth it baby sister, well worth it." "It's not all about a working life either. I know you see Mom doing all the house work here and then she shuffles off to her Hostess thing at night, but Beth, that's not what being a woman is. That's what it is for Mom! Dad has his contributions; Mom decides what she wants hers to be. They are both happy with what the other brings into the house. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Beth had nodded eagerly, then paused, pursed her lips again and shook her head slowly in confusion. Erin had sighed, then said, "The right man will knock down the Great Wall if you wanted, to get you something you wanted on the other side. Your job is to make sure that if Randy sets himself to such a thing, make sure it will be worth it... for the both of you. You're lucky to have Randy. He loves you so much. I swear, I think if you asked for the moon, he would fly up and bring it all back a piece at a time." They had spent hours together making up for the time lost when they had been younger. When Shelly had become old enough to join them in more adult pursuits the only one that could separate them was Randy. If Randy wanted to be with Beth, then she would generally choose to be with her husband rather than her sisters. Beyond that, the three Shipley sisters were inseparable. Now one would be gone. It broke his heart that he felt more irrationally fearful for Beth's safety than upset for the impending loss of his sister-in-law Erin and their little threesome. There was nothing he could say to make her feel better, nothing at all. He simply told her they had a flight leaving in 20 minutes and they had better leave now if they were going to catch it. Beth nodded but didn't lift her head. "Come on Baby. I'll help you." He took her hand and eased her into the passenger seat, then closed the hatch. He tossed the compression bag into the back seat on his side, got clearance to depart and took off in the direction of the jumpport. Ten minutes later, having cleared security, they were being ushered through the passenger walk way to the shuttle. Beth had said nothing the entire way there. She sat now with he hands folded in her lap and her head down, the hat stored in over head storage. Randy slid his hand over and under her two folded ones. She responded by letting her fingers glide gracefully between his. She gripped his hand with the force all the grief in her body compelled her to. "Baby?" Randy said. Beth looked at him with large, sad blue eyes. He could feel himself tear up with the idea of how sad she was. She reached over and touched the corner of his eye with her thumb to wipe away a tear that was flooding there. "Don't you start too. I'm counting on you to prop me up when the time comes," Beth pleaded. "It's hard not too." He admitted. He choked back the tears and dried his face, "Seeing how hard it is for you, knowing that all this time has slipped past and its only when Erin is... sick to return to see her, when there isn't any time left." Randy stared out the window as the shuttle leapt into the air, driven by a concentrated beam of light reflected from the sun. Outside the window, the day turned rapidly from a bright cyan colored sky to navy, then black dotted with brilliant white dots on the fabric of space. "I can't help but feel that I've let you down. So if I break down a bit, it's just a little regret that I waited so long. Besides, I love her too, you know." "I know Randy. I know you do." Beth soothed smiling a painful but genuine smile. "It's hard to watch what I know this must be doing to you as well. So..." he paused, that sense of fear was back, growing in his gut, causing his scrotum to tighten as if in self-defense from some unseen aggressor. "So..." Randy said, drawing the word out, not knowing how his wife would take to the idea. Beth blinked in confusion. "So?" "I think we should consider not returning to Paris." Beth was stunned into silence. She sat quietly breathing deep breaths, inhaling through her nose. Randy watched as her breasts rose and fell with each inhale and exhale. The grip on his hand had tightened some and he noticed that her lower lip had started to tremble. Randy exhaled feeling small. It had been the wrong time to mention it. He should have waited. Then he considered, waited for what? After we arrived, after the funeral, once we were back in France? Did you offer to move back now so you wouldn't feel so guilty? He didn't wait for her to speak, he held up his hand and turned to the window, "Wow, You're right, it my timing is getting worse with age. I'm sorry; I should have discussed it with you before putting that idea out there all naked and everything. He averted his eyes to the window again and watched the planet rotate in an opposing direction below as the Jump-craft made its way across its semi-orbital path west. He heard her say softly, "I'm not mad," as she gently passed her hand over his cheek. Her fingers were cool and soothing, her touch was velvet. He knew that was because his cheek burned with guilt. "I'm not hurt. I don't even have any regrets. I need you to believe that Randy. I believe in you and your decisions. I know that you only had the best interest of your family at heart. You always have my love." Randy turned to look at her as her soft blue eyes caught and held his gaze. He wasn't sorry for the decisions he had made. They might have been different from those of others that might have found themselves in his shoes, but he wasn't sorry. He had done the best he felt he could do at the time. Things change, life changes with it, whether you like it or not. "No regrets?" he asked her, curious. "No, no regrets. I took a vow with you, while standing on the most romantic cruise ship I had ever seen, on the surface of a silly little lake that means more to me than all the oceans in the world. You've always looked out for me, protected me, and had only my best interests at heart. When I said love, honor and obey, until death do us part, when you changed yourself to be with me until that death, you had given me something no one, not even my mother could take away." "What's that?" "A soul," Beth said and leaned in and kissed Randy. After the kiss, Randy rolled his eyes, "My dear sweet wife, I love you more than you will ever know, but a soul? Oh please..." "It's true Randy. You gave me something to believe in. My mother would have never stopped trying to get me out of what I had become..." Beth spoke in subdued tones now, "She wouldn't have let her mind accept that her little boy was gone anyway. You married me in spite of her, she couldn't change that. You... did what you did for me... and she couldn't change that either. She loves you Randy, but you superseded her and she didn't like that." "And you did?" "Liked it, I loved it! I knew that you loved me, really loved me, not some image of what I'd become, but me. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother. I know she loved her son. But until Carrie did this to me and she and her Dad ran off leaving me trapped, I don't think our little family circle had much to really think about. We were rich, safe and had no worries. But underneath all that family tranquility and bliss was a complacency that, if it had been allowed to remain where it had grown, who knows, it might have cost us our entire family." Randy was silent, they had all discussed the implications of Beth's transformation, the seemingly innocent coincidental meeting of Gary and a man claiming to be Terrance Michaels and the resulting miraculous resurrection of Gary from the dead. They had all torn the subject apart in some very heated conversations, not the least heated of which had been between Michelle and her new daughter. No conclusions had ever been made, nothing concrete anyway. Everyone agreed that what had happened when Carrie Fenton put the SKIN on William, some sort predetermined dynamic had been drastically altered, the outcome of which would have left Michelle isolated and alone in an immortal body. The timing, circumstance and mitigating factors could all be argued until they were blue in the face. It was still hard to believe that all those unlikely pieces had simply fallen into place as a matter of coincidence. Gary's injuries for instance, the wheels had turned so that Michaels had provided a four SKINs as an apology a penance if you will for drawing what was left of Mike Vello's remaining DNA to the surface, which, coincidently, provided an alibi for everyone when Michaels' lab had burned to the ground. Wasn't that just too convenient? The more they explored the issue, the more potentially disastrous situations that were lying out there to snare them had somehow been answered by William's coincidental adventure into the life of a girl dead twenty-two years by that time. For example, the question of Michelle's natural birth mother was answered, allegedly, which was never questioned by some stroke of luck, reuniting mother and child before Rose's death. It had also cemented her legitimacy as a citizen. She could never be considered a transient or an illegal person. All of which had certainly been a point of anguish for Michelle early on. Randy like Gary had once been, was not a believer in Divine Intervention. And maybe Beth was right. Their situation back then had almost been forced, guided into place so that at the end of everything, everyone, (expect that Michaels fellow) were together, happy and alive. Almost every immediate concern had been answered, as if by magic, and they could go on and continue living, happily ever after. Until today that is. Was Beth suggesting that they were all pieces in some sort of cosmic game of Risk? Randy felt that if anyone had given Beth a soul, it had be