Dawn of Tears - 14. Settling In

Note to Readers: I hate the media. I hate having my life recorded for everyone to see, especially mistakes and violent moments. Thanks to the taping of my encounter with Walter Jefferson, I gained an immediate image of being no stranger to violence, a kind of teenage Rambo.

I hate it that for a good part of my life I could look at someone the wrong way and they'd get afraid. I remember the time I looked at someone in a tense situation and the peed their pants. I was just wondering why they were so nervous, and there was a puddle at the man's feet. He was six foot four and weighed nearly two hundred and fifty pounds, mostly muscle. I was sixteen, and here was this combat veteran pissing his pants.

I almost laughed, but it was a bad enough situation. Henry never let me live it down either.

"No, he used the boys to get inside." Joanna was saying softly. The plane's interior lights were dimmed as a generator unloaded from the cargo bay now provided the plane with power since its engines were shut off. Only critical systems were being used to conserve power, and fuel, until more supplies arrived.

"They'd convince the shelters that they were escaped refugees and then they'd open them up so that Jefferson's men could get inside and kill everyone there." Deidre continued when Joanna's voice faltered. "There are probably a couple of dozen churches and shelters filled with dead people out there. He stopped burning them and left them as warning signs to the others of what would happen if they refused his demands for gas and food."

"If he had so many followers, why weren't they here?" Major Grant asked.

"The shelters got smart and stopped letting anyone in." Joanna answered. "They refused to let anyone near them. Enough Guard and police forces spread out among them that they had the weapons to hold any attack that didn't risk Jefferson losing too many men. He tried once, and after they pushed him back and he lost forty men, he never tried again."

"Instead he went after the smaller groups." Deidre said. "Groups of ten or twenty people who were turned back after the shelters stopped taking people in. More people fled to the woods and the National Preserve, and the groups in the surrounding towns all broke off from him. The food that he had us make for your visit was almost the last of his stock. Most of his people had already deserted him as well."

"I'm amazed that any of them stayed." Captain Williams, who had now joined us, said.

"Timmy…" Deidre started to say, but cut off. I knew why they'd stayed. Timmy had used his ability to make them stay.

"What about your son?" Grant asked after she didn't continue.

"I hope he's sleeping okay." She said with a quick look at me.

"They're sleeping fine." Connors said with a smile. "They both passed out as soon as they lay down on the bed."

"Good." Deidre said. "This has been so hard on them."

"Okay, so what do you think we should do, Mr. Jacobs?" Grant asked and I looked at the map lying on the table.

"We have two hundred troops and fifteen vehicles on their way here." I said slowly. "They'll be here in two days and have enough fuel for about five days of operation in the Boise area. The tankers arrive later that day with plenty of more fuel. The news crew has already uploaded their tape and the national stations and satellites will begin broadcasting it tomorrow. Some of the shelters still have operational generators and may see the broadcast, but we can't count on that. We stay put until the help arrives. If anyone approaches the perimeter we proceed with caution. The day after the troops arrive, the first transport with emergency rations will arrive."

"That's a good start." Grant nodded in obvious approval. "Where's our base of operations going to be?"

"This plane until we get some power generation going in town." I said. "We've got full communications here, power, food, and a defensive perimeter. If we can get the airport offices running off of mobile power, we'll move there but I want to be able to bug out if things go sour, and that means we stay here."

"I agree." Grant said. "But I also think we need to do a local broadcast as soon as possible as well. The Hercules will be returning from Nevada in the morning. It can patch a radio signal through and broadcast it from ten thousand feet. That should reach most parts of the state. We tell them that the United States has returned to Boise and will soon be moving out to help those who need it."

"Okay." I said knowing he'd make me do it, just like he'd been keeping me here. Major Grant may be an asshole to those who he outranked, but he was a career man with a desire for a General's star sometime in his future. He knew very well any successes here would be credited to him within military circles, and by being on my good side, he'd get the Presidential notice that would give him that star much faster than by being on my bad side.

"Oh, and that's today by the way." He said with a smile. "The Herc will be back in two hours and the sun's starting to rise."

"We need to get some rest." I said immediately. "We have our perimeter guards and SF troops on a watch rotation already, but we need one."

"You're the commander." Grant said for the twentieth time since we'd returned to the plane. He'd given his opinions, given ideas, but refused to issue any orders.

"Captain Williams, how are you holding up?" I asked and my old watch commander smiled.

"I'm good for another couple of hours." He answered.

"Very well." I sighed, rubbing my hands through my hair. Captain Unger and Lt. Ellington had long since gone to sleep. "Have them wake Captain Unger in two hours to relieve you. Starting with him we go in four hour duty rotations. After Unger, Major Grant will have the watch, and you'll relieve him. Rotate from there. If there's need, I'll fill in."

"Good rotation." Grant approved. I bit back the urge to retort. At least I'd remembered not to put myself in the rotation. The commanding officer in situations like this wouldn't tie himself down in the duty rotation. Oh yeah, standing orders for the watch had to be issued as well.

"Maintain a defensive perimeter." I ordered. "Handle any contacts with civilians as peacefully as possible, but no one inside the perimeter until reinforcements arrive. If there's any shots fired, wake everyone immediately."

"Yes sir." Williams said and I let out a sigh.

"Ladies, I'd like to offer you some reclining seats in my cabin." I said to the two women who sighed gratefully. The manacles holding them and their sons were standard issue prison gear, and since we'd had several similar devices on board, the keys had fit theirs and the boys' chains. They'd also been given some extra uniforms to wear. They followed me into my cabin, which was dark with the window shades closed and lights off. Richardson, who had been dozing in his chair was instantly on his feet, weapon at the ready, but he relaxed when he saw me. He turned on a single overhead light and broke out blankets for the two exhausted women and me. Their boys were crashed out on my bed, so I took the sole remaining chair, reclined it, and tried to make myself comfortable.

I didn't need to worry because I was asleep by the time I'd barely rolled onto my side.

I don't know how much later it was when I woke, feeling the unmistakable presence of someone curled up beside me in the chair. It was someone small because the chair wasn't that big and I opened my eyes to see two dark eyes staring at me. I could feel Timmy's breath on my face as he studied me closely.

"I can feel it even when you're asleep." He whispered after my eyes opened.

"Timmy." I said softly, but he shook his head.

"That man called me that." He said softly, with a voice filled with disgust. "Call me Tim from now on."

"Okay, Tim." I said softly. "I thought I told you it wasn't nice to touch me like that."

"I'm sorry." Tim said softly. "I was just curious, not trying to do anything and I stopped as soon as I felt your…tingly feeling…touching mine. I even touched the soldier, but he's yours. I could feel that. Then he woke up and told me to get back to bed."

"How long ago was that?" I asked.

"A while. It's light outside now." Tim said softly. "Why can we do this?"

"Because God gave us the ability to do it." I said. "But it's a secret. You can't let anyone know who doesn't already. You had also better not use it for a while, at least until we've spent more time getting to know each other, unless it's to save your life or someone else's life."

"He made me do bad things with it." Tim said in voice filled with hurt. "He used it to kill a lot of people. Please don't make me use it like that again."

"I won't." I promised immediately. "I don't think we're meant to hurt people with it unless we have to save others. Look at what I did last night. I didn't hurt the man I touched, just made him stop what he was doing."

"Yeah, and then your man blew Jefferson's head off." Tim said with a bloodthirsty grin.

"Yeah, he did, didn't he?" I said with sad smile. I'd have to give Richardson a big thank you some time soon.

"Are you replacing me already?" Richardson's voice drifted quietly from the nearby chair.

"Only because he's better looking." I whispered when Richards got up and squatted next to my chair.

"Yuck." Tim said with a sour face. "It's not like that. I just feel…a connection between us."

"Good." Richardson said. "Sorry it took me so long to figure you had that guy under control. I thought you had to kiss or something."

"I've figured out that skin contacts works okay for basic control." I said.

"It only works for a little while that way." Tim said softly. "A few hours I think. I kept on having to touch the man's followers to get them to stay, except for those two guys he brought in with you."

"I'm lucky you didn't touch them." I said. "It wouldn't have worked if you had."

"Why's that?" Tim asked.

"It's like marking territory." I explained carefully. "When you've touched someone, you've marked them as yours and no one else can take them away from you."

"For as long as it lasts." Tim said.

"I'll show you a way that lasts longer sometime." I told him. "For now, I think we should get up."

"It's only 0800." Richardson said. "You've had only three hours of sleep."

"I'll sleep more when I go home." I said, pushing myself to a sitting position.

"You're going to leave me?" Tim said in a very small voice.

"We'll have to talk to your mother about what you'll be doing in the future." I said with a smile. He nodded and smiled back. He seemed so much younger than me, but we were less than a year apart. I wondered if it was because of the last few months of hell he had, or something else.

"Take a shower and I'll get you a fresh uniform." Richardson said as I got up from the chair. I saw the look in Tim's eyes at the word 'shower' and realized all four of them would want one. Oh well, if the water supply ran low, they could melt snow and pour it in.

"Okay." I said softly. "Make sure they all get a shower as well, and if anyone complains tell them I said to shove their complaints up their ass. Get the boys some of my clothes as well. The sweats will probably be best and I've got several pairs of them."

"As you wish." He said in a very cloying voice and I glared. Ten minutes later, dressed in a fresh pair of fatigues, I left the cabin feeling much better. I had no idea I'd had blood my cheek, and no one bothered to tell me. It bothered me I didn't know whose it was, but then I really didn't want to know. I was surprised as I entered the conference room to find the table nearly full with people eating breakfast. Sergeant Collins, who had just sat a carafe of coffee on the table, leapt to clear the table in front of an empty chair and hurriedly promised she'd bring me some food immediately. I sat down in the freshly cleared spot and nodded at the other people at the table.

"We didn't think you'd be up for another hour at least." Lt. Ellington said with a smile. Both Darby and Knight were with her, laptops open near them. One of Unger's men was eating a piece of toast and looked still half-asleep. Professor Higgs was typing away furiously with one hand on his laptop while the other spooned eggs into his mouth.

"The boys are up and should be out soon." I said by way of answer to Ellington who smiled at that.

"Those poor things, and their mothers. Yuck!" She said softly. Then she brightened up and smiled at me. "We've got a lot planned for you today, so use this extra hour to build up your energy."

"What could you possibly have planned for me out here?" I demanded in a horrified voice as Collins returned with a plate of eggs, sausage and toast. She also set down a large thermos of coffee just for me.

"Well, the Hercules returned about twenty minutes ago." Ellington said. "By the way, if no one's told you, Major Smith will recover, as will the six others wounded. No one is permanently disabled, and no one died."

"I'm glad to hear about Major Smith." I said realizing suddenly that there was a video camera pointing at me from the entrance into the main cabin. Genevieve wasn't there, but her camera and sound men were.

"He's sent word that next time he's wearing thicker body armor." She said with a smile, and I chuckled as I took a bite of the eggs. "Okay, for your schedule today, I've consulted with Captain Unger who is meeting with the Nevada National Guard officer outside right now."

"Wait, Nevada National Guard?" I asked in surprise.

"Yes, oh that's right, that was after you went to sleep." Ellington said with a frown. "Sorry, I forgot you were up until dawn. How much sleep did you get?"

"About three hours." I said. "I've been worse off."

"Right, okay." She said quickly. "The plane returned with two squads from the local Nevada Guard Commander in Elko. They brought another Bradley with them and some more fuel and ammunition. Unger is coordinating watch relief with them right now to get our people some rest. As for your schedule, Genevieve has asked for a few minutes to do an interview with you discussing last night. It'll be about fifteen minutes and I think your cabin will be the best place for that. That will be in an hour. She's transferred their video to Wichita already, but they're not going to air it until they have your interview. I think you need to do that. When you're done with that, you've got your broadcast to the people of Idaho. Knight and Darby are working on several different versions of what you need to say. It's based on notes from Major Grant and Captain Unger. You'll have about twenty minutes to prep with them before you broadcast because the Hercules will need to lift off and get into position and then set up for re-transmitting the signal. After that, Major Grant has scheduled most of the remainder of the morning for a staff meeting."

"Pencil in some time after lunch for me to interview the prisoner." I said firmly. She nodded.

"I'll have more for you after lunch." She told me with a smile. I turned to Professor Higgs who was typing away.

"What are you working on so furiously?" I asked him, eating some more of food while I waited for a reply. I think he was finishing a thought before answering.

"Dylan, I'm in the middle of history being made and I'm an English Professor with four books published to my name." He answered testily. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"You are not writing a book." I glared at him. He shrugged and started typing away.

"Oh, Martha," He added a moment later. "Don't forget, Dylan has English class today and Political Science. He'll need an hour and a half for that. Maybe longer if he takes too long to write an essay."

"No." I groaned loudly. "I am not having an English and Political Science lesson in the middle of working on rebuilding an entire state."

"I can see no better time for you to work on perfecting your English skills, and your understanding of Rouseau's Lawgiver." Higgs said in an affronted tone as everyone laughed. "Your last essay missed two crucial points and with what's going on here right now, I think you need to understand those points."

"I hate my life." I groaned into my thermos of coffee, and they just kept laughing. I noticed the room went dimmer; a signal the camera crew had finally left.

"Good, they're gone for a bit." Ellington said quickly, and in a much lower voice. "Dylan, we got word that your Dad will be making a major speech on the recent nuclear bombings. The press is going to hear about it probably at lunch. It's about an hour after that he will actually speak. When Genevieve finds out, she's going to want to do a live broadcast from here showing your reaction. I don't think you should say no."

"Shouldn't we stay focused on things here?" I asked and she shook her head.

"No, it's best for the President and his family to look well informed and able to handle a variety of topics. You also need to make sure that all your people, even those on duty hear it. Casters will handle the technical end, and you might thing over what you'll say to any questions Genevieve has after your dad's speech. I assume you know pretty much what he'll say?"

"I have a good idea on a large part of it." I admitted and she nodded. She looked at something behind me and smiled.

"You know, that little comment about hating your life is something that millions of school kids are going to hate you for don't you?" Ellington asked me with a smile, totally changing the topic.

"I just saw it." Genevieve said from behind me. "I know my own son is going to hate hearing 'Look, if Dylan Jacobs can oversee the reestablishment of law and order in Idaho and STILL find time for his lessons, you can go to school no matter how bad your tummy hurts.' I think by the time he gets out of school, he'll be ready to hunt Dylan Jacobs down and hang him from the nearest tree."

"Oh great, now I'm an object lesson." I groaned, getting more laughter. I noticed one of the other Air Force Airmen coming into the room then, her arms filled with several plates of food and two carafes full of some kind of liquid for drinking. She kicked the door to my cabin for a moment, and then it opened. Richardson let her in, and she came back out a few minutes later with a smile on her face.

"How are they doing?" Genevieve asked me softly as she sat down in the last empty chair.

"Better." I said. "You're not interviewing those kids. If you even try I'm throwing you off the plane and you're never coming back on."

"Hey, no arguments from me on that one." She said, throwing her hands up defensively.

"When the mothers are ready to talk, Ellington will let you know." I said and she nodded.

"That's fine by me. I've got a big enough exclusive as it is." Genevieve said. "Has Martha told you I want to do an interview before we broadcast?"

"Yes." I answered flatly, glad my food was all eaten. I took another sip of coffee though.

"I want you to know what I'm going to focus on before we actually do the interview." She said. "I'm not going to try to trick you or make you look foolish. In return I ask for your word that you'll answer truthfully, not just what you want people to hear. I'm not going to tell you anything really specific, but this is way more than most reporters would do in my situation."

"You have my word that you will get the truth from me." I told her. "If there's something I can't, or do not want to answer, I will tell you that. If you push me when I tell you that, the interview will be over."

"I can live with that." She answered with a nod. Then she went on giving a very brief outline of what she'd be focusing on. When she left, I sat quietly, sipping my coffee and thinking over her questions. Was it really only a few months ago that all this had started? It seemed like years, and I also realized that I no longer felt like a teenager, no longer felt like a kid.

When it came time for the camera crew to set up their lights in my cabin, I had a brief conversation with Joanna, Deidre, Tim, and Sandy (the name of the other boy). They all said they'd prefer to be in another room during the interview so they moved to the conference room, where Jim Higgs saved the file he was working on and pulled up a video game on his laptop. He hooked it up to the monitor and both boys were soon yelling and screaming as they tried to win some type of car race.

Meanwhile Lt. Martha Ellington was putting make-up on me. The kind used for television people doing interviews so that the cameras didn't make them look pale or sickly. The interview was in my cabin, but with a full set of lights they had stashed away somewhere and according to Martha, if I didn't use the stuff, I'd look awful on television. At least my short hair meant I didn't have to worry about her playing hairstylist. While she was doing that, I had Knight and Darby reading out stuff they'd prepared for the radio address. Major Grant who'd woken up and come into the conference room amidst all this fuss had an idea that changed plans a little bit, and made some more changes in the speech in addition to the ones I demanded. Then it was time for my interview.

For the interview, we were both sitting in chairs, facing each, in front of my desk. The television cabinet was open, and I was very glad Genevieve had warned me she would be playing part of the tape from last night. I was a little nervous as I sat down and she smiled at me, but not nearly as much as I had been the first time. There were two cameras set up now, and the sound boom sat between us. She asked me if I was ready, and when I nodded, she turned to the first camera and smiled.

"Good morning, America." She said in her 'reporting' tone that I was familiar with from watching her on television while I was growing up. "This is Genevieve Marloneur reporting for the new National Broadcasting Service. I'm sitting here with Dylan Jacobs, son of the newly-selected President, inside his plane, which is currently sitting on the tarmac of an airport in Boise, Idaho. Dylan, it's good to be here with you."

"It's good to be here with you as well, Genevieve." I said with the most charming smile I could muster.

"So tell me, Dylan, why are we here in Boise?" She asked me, going into the background of the mission.

"Well, as has already been announced in the past few days," I said, glad I'd checked with Martha to make sure my facts were all correct, "several states declared they were seceding from the Union that is our United States. The states that did this, including Utah, Colorado, and Idaho did this during the days after the crisis began, and before nuclear weapons tragically destroyed several of our cities.

"A few days ago, the government received a message from the people claiming to be in control of Idaho, asking to open negotiations to return to the United States. They claimed to have stockpiles of food but no fuel to transport them. They requested fuel and natural gas to help their population that was freezing from a recent storm, and in return offered food we could use to help feed other people all across this country. It was decided to send a Special Envoy to make that happen."

"Why was it decided to send someone, and why you?" Genevieve asked me with another smile.

"As to why send someone, that is the easiest part to answer." I said with a smile of my own. "States do not secede from the Union, something that many Americans died resolving about a century and a half ago. Idaho and the other states will eventually be brought back into the Union. Right now, we are focusing our resources elsewhere, but eventually we will reach a point where we must deal with these states. With this offer, we had a chance to bring Idaho back without using any resources more than what we are using on any other state. Such an opportunity could not be passed up because the alternative would be to incur a higher cost in fuel, food, and American blood in armed conflict with our fellow Americans."

"A fair enough reason." Genevieve said with a nod of her head. "But why were you chosen to go?"

"In their message, the Idaho people demanded a government official with close connections to the President." I answered. "Of the people available to go, we needed their skills where they were. The alternative was to send a relative of the President, even though there was a danger that the relative could be taken hostage or killed if the offer was a trick. I know my father loves me, and he would be hurt if he lost me, but I also know that when compared to someone like General McFarland, Senator Crawley, or Vice-President Sears, my death would not be a severe blow to the nation's recovery. That's why I volunteered for this duty, and the President reluctantly agreed."

"What makes you say you aren't as valuable as these other men?" Genevieve asked me, and it surprised me so much that it took me a moment to frame a response.

"I'm thirteen years old, first of all." I said finally. "I know I'm fairly intelligent, that's something that I can't deny or change, but for all my thinking ability, I'm still a thirteen year old kid who hasn't finished his education yet or had the life experiences that those men have. I can be replaced by people who are as smart as me, and far more experienced in almost any role, and in fact they would likely do better than me in most of those roles. It is my connection to my father, the President that lends me any real importance."

"But it was you who actually led this mission, not any of the more experienced officers that were assigned to this mission." Genevieve said, picking up the remote. She turned the television on and it was cued to the recording they'd made of our phone conference with dad. She played his last few sentences where he stressed that I was in charge.

"Yes, I was the special envoy from the President on this mission." I said. "However, I was not, and would not; take action without consulting with my advisors. Their years of experience far outstrip me and only a fool would not listen to them. I was 'in charge' because they had requested someone connected to the President, and I was that person sent. To use me as a mere figurehead, while someone else was really in charge would have been to negotiate based on a lie, and that is not something I, or the President will do. We will not lie to our people, we will not lie to other countries, and we will not lie to anyone we enter into negotiations with. If we say something, you better believe it because it is the truth."

"So, if you disagreed with your advisors, you would have made a decision and that decision would have been carried out?" She asked. "Isn't that putting a lot of faith in someone as young as you?"

"My family has faith that God exists and loves us all." I answered her. This was an easy one to handle. "If we have faith in God, a being whose existence is not proven by modern science, how can we not have faith in each other and those that we know and love? My father would never have sent me here if he did not believe me capable of doing what was needed, and what was best for the people of Idaho and for the people of the United States. I know my duty, and the President has faith in my ability to handle whatever God, or man, throws my way. Of course he did make sure I had some of the best advisors possible in the form of Major Grant and Major Smith. They are brilliant men, and darn good officers, both of them."

"I'm sure they appreciate hearing that." She said with a smile. Now, I'd love to show another clip from the footage we took last night. This was your first meeting with 'Governor General' Walter Jefferson."

She played the tape, and I was surprised at how poised I look in my full combat gear. I also saw the man's cheeks were blazing red while I stayed pretty calm. It was pretty clear I had the intellectual upper hand there, and when Major Grant spoke, it looked like we were a well-oiled machine steamrolling over the man.

"So, what were you thinking while this was happening?" She asked me.

"I was thinking about something I was told by one of my advisors, Captain Unger." I said with a faint curling upwards of my lips. "He's an attorney in civilian life, and quite a good one at that. Basically, when negotiating, it's good to keep the other side slightly off-balance so that it's easier to push them in the direction you want them to go."

"What happened to not lying?" She asked with a smile.

"I'm sorry." I stated with a confused expression. "Maybe we should play that again? I don't remember lying to that man once! I hope I didn't lie. I am almost certain that everything I said was one hundred percent, absolutely accurate."

"Maybe I chose the wrong word." She said, that smile back on her face. "Wasn't it…deceptive to use such a tactic?"

"When we're at war, do we drop leaflets on the enemy telling them what we are doing?" I asked her. "Of course we don't. There's a difference between lying and not revealing your positions, or putting your enemy off-balance. First of all, I've known many people like Mr. Jefferson. They can't stand other people who think for themselves, and a bossy little thirteen year old kid who wasn't intimidated by his schoolyard bully with a gun tactics was definitely something that would throw him off-balance. Throw in a Major Grant trying to be helpful, who while having a decent rank was not someone closely connected to the President, and we got the reaction we wanted from him. We got him to move where we wanted him, away from the plane and to a place where he felt safer."

"Why did you want him to head back to the airport's control tower?" She asked me and I smiled now.

"Because we'd figured out his secret thanks the US Air Force and the officers that were assigned to this mission." I said. It was true, too. I was an officer assigned to this mission.

"His secret?" She asked me.

"Yes." I smiled now. "His big secret was that he really was no longer in control of Boise, much less of Idaho."

"How did you reach this conclusion?" She asked me.

"I'm sorry, but that's something I can't discuss openly." I told her with a smile. "What I can say is that while we weren't absolutely certain he wasn't in control, we couldn't be absolutely sure until we landed. When we landed, our advance team that prepared the runway for our landing had ascertained he had a few dozen men and that was enough to prove that our intelligence was accurate. However we still planned to actually negotiate with him."

"For what?" She asked.

"Well, he had a couple of dozen loyal men who, if they scattered, could still cause harm to innocent Americans." I told her. "We also had reason to believe that he had non-combatants in the tower building and we didn't know if they were there willingly or unwillingly. As you saw when we entered the tower building, they were unwilling innocents, chained like slaves."

"Yes, we saw that." She said softly. "How did that make you feel, seeing them like that?"

"Angry, very angry." I said in a low voice, a voice I knew sounded dangerous. "Slavery is one of the sickest tragedies to ever mar this country's history. To see any American citizen reduced to such an existence was almost more than I could stand. But we had a mission to complete, and that was the most important thing than taking personal revenge on the person who did such a thing."

"But the person was killed in the encounter." She said, "and something odd happened, didn't it, before negotiations could resume?"

"Yes." I answered. "We found two women and two young kids, just a little younger than me, being held hostage, in slavery. They had food prepared and I believe it was Mr. Jefferson's intention for us to eat with him. He ordered one of the kids to greet us, and when I did, the young man whispered one word."

"He whispered something?" She asked. "Our camera didn't quite pick that up. What was it he whispered?"

"Poison." I answered her, now lying completely. It had to be done though, for the protection of me, Henry, and now Tim. Deidre had actually told it first last night, surprising me with her reasonable explanation for what had had happened between her son and I. She'd even said the 'poison' was a strong sedative that would have knocked them out. Then the guards would have killed Richardson, Connors, and Chambers, and they'd have taken me hostage. That was the story she had given, and that I would stick with from now on. "He was warning me that the food was poisoned, and then he pretended to faint in order to give us time to react. That allowed me and the men with me to act appropriately with a man who never intended to negotiate in good faith."

"So he was going to try to kill you?" Genevieve asked with a slight widening of her eyes.

"No" I said softly. "It wasn't actually a poison, but a sedative that would have knocked us unconscious. Then they would have overpowered our guards and your news crew and taken me hostage as a bartering tool for the fuel."

"Why would he take such a course of action if you were here to negotiate with him? She asked me and I tried my best to put a sad smile on my face.

"He was desperate." I told her, and the audience that would be watching the tape. "He had many secrets to hide, secrets that the women he was holding hostage knew and have started to tell us. The most important of these secrets was that he had effectively lost control of Boise, and the state over the last few weeks."

"How did that happen?" She asked.

"During the month that followed the initial crisis, the National Guard and state authorities maintained a decent amount of order." I answered. "Idaho is more rural than many other states, and its people have a good, healthy independent streak that helped them fair better initially than many other places. However, they also are the home to many anti-government and other fringe groups with large supplies of weapons. Several of these larger groups banded together under Mr. Jefferson and were able to sneak into the capitol. They used several ambushes to weaken the National Guard forces, and then they raided the homes of the Governor and National Guard Commanders, taking their wives and children as hostages."

"How horrible." Genevieve commented and I nodded in agreement.

"It also shows he was trying to repeat that pattern with the national government." I pointed out. "He used Joanna and Deidre, as well as Sandy and Tim, the two women and two boys who were in that room last night, to open 'negotiations' with the state leaders, and then killed those men. The Guard forces were then scattered, splitting up and joining with independent shelters and groups in town. Jefferson's men went on killing spree after killing spree, and the violence of these attacks destroyed a lot of buildings, a lot of food and fuel supplies, and ended pretty much ended any effective hopes of recovery. One by one, the power generators failed or ran out of fuel. Tank farms were destroyed in pitched battles, and the hopes of a relatively decent winter went out the window. Most of Jefferson's men left him when the food and fuel started running out. His basic plan was with me as hostage he'd get enough food and fuel to keep his people happy and lure back the ones that had fled. He was convinced my father would bide his team, keeping him supplied with relatively modest amounts of food and fuel during winter. Then Jefferson would release me in the spring forestalling any rescue attempt my father might make in the better weather. Quite sad really, because it would never have worked. He would have better off to simply negotiate in good faith."

"Why wouldn't it have worked?" Genevieve asked.

"For the simple reason that my father is a soldier, and a man of faith." I said with that sad smile I was trying to perfect. "As a soldier, he knows that there are times you are going to lose good people, good friends, people as close to you as family, and that you can't dishonor their loss by giving up when they are gone. As a man of faith, he knows that I share his faith, and if I die, we will meet again in Heaven. It will hurt him to lose me here and now, he will grieve, he will be angry, but he will also know that we will meet again. He also knows that I would not want him to give in to the demands of any who had taken me hostage in order to secure my release. For him to do so would be a betrayal of me, of the American people, and of God, and so, he would not have given in to Jefferson's planned demands. I would rather die than see him do something like that."

"That's a strong statement to make." She said softly. "There are not many people who would feel similarly."

"My family's dedication to this country and to God comes first and foremost, always." I answered her statement. "That commitment we made as a family, as the Congress voted to select my Dad as President. He did not accept that selection, and position, alone. The decision was made as a family, together, and when he took the Oath of Office, he did so not as a man standing up there alone, but as the head of our family, and we are bound by that Oath as strongly as he is."

"I'm sure that there will be many people who appreciate your family's dedication and commitment." Genevieve said with another smile. "So tell me what comes next?"

"There's a lot of work ahead of us." I said firmly. "Right now there's no central leadership here in Idaho. There are hundreds of thousands of people sheltering together for food and warmth. But, there's help on the way. Hundreds of people and tons of supplies are being readied and will be shipped here as soon as possible. These people here have been through a particularly rough time, there have been atrocities here that rival any in history, as your cameras will record over the days and weeks to come, and they need help. The people here in Boise, and in Idaho at large, are Americans, and we will help them as we would help any other Americans in need."

"Some people might argue that these people have made their beds when they seceded from the U.S." Genevieve stated. "There are many that might say we should let them suffer the consequences and not waste resources that should be going to other, more loyal Americans."

"I would tell those that say that to put themselves in the shoes of the men, women and children that are sitting in shelters here right now, hungry, and scared that armed thugs are going to kill them before they wake up the next morning." I said. "I know that there are others who were in, have been, and might still be in similar situations. We will do our best to help all of them out of that situation, and we will do our best here. It was not the people of Idaho that turned their backs on us, it was Jefferson and his followers who are either now dead, prisoner, or scattered. The people of Idaho themselves are innocent and will receive help."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Jacobs." She said with a smile, and the cameras were turned off along with their lights. She smiled at me as well. "Not a bad job at all."

"Thanks for giving me some time to think about my answers." I told her and she nodded.

"A word of advice, you might want to cut down on the length of your answers." She told me with a little chuckle. "Some of them were wordier than they need to be."

"Higgs is getting on my case about that with my essays." I told her. "He loves saying 'cut down on the verbosity young man!'"

"I can imagine him saying that!" She laughed.

While one of her cameramen rushed the tapes forward to be transmitted to Wichita, the other two broke down the room while Genevieve and I talked in more details about what we would be doing over the next day. She reacted in horror at the story I told her of entire shelters being killed, and the bodies either burned with the shelter or stacked like cords of wood in the buildings as a 'warning' to others. I could see her fingers itching to get them on camera and show just how gruesome the man who was now dead had been.

When they were done breaking down and removing their equipment she left, extracting a promise from me that she'd be allowed to tour these shelters as soon as we found them. Darby and Knight shuffled into the room, with Richardson right behind them and began reviewing the speech they'd typed for me to give. I found that having people write for me was both very odd, and slightly easier to deal with. Professor Higgs had demanded to see their work and made them change several sentences to be more grammatically accurate. Both sailors seemed affronted at the changes, but hadn't dared change them back. Higgs was intimidating with his height, weight, and booming voice.

I asked for two more changes, and they made them, running them by the English professor once more before printing my chosen speech out. As I read over the printed page, they led me forward to the communications room where Airman Casters was finishing the link-up with the C-130 Hercules that was now flying at 10,000 feet and about forty miles to the north, northwest of Boise. They had a powerful transmitter on board that could reach most of Idaho from that position. They'd be transmitting my speech, and recording it to transmit twice more during the hour. They'd be taking off four more times today to re-transmit the message.

It all boiled down to a couple of points, including that the US had returned to Idaho, Walter Jefferson was dead. Soldiers would begin moving into Boise in the next few days, bringing food and other supplies with them. Nearby towns and settlements needing assistance were encouraged to either radio or send people to Boise with information on their needs and we would do our best to assist them. Any people who had belonged to Jefferson's group or similar groups would be offered a one-time amnesty in a few days. They could both turn themselves in, and work to undo the damage they had caused or face being hunted and tried for their crimes in the future.

The staff meeting after that was a long one; far longer than I thought necessary. Every officer in the area, including the Special Forces Lieutenant and Lt. Ellington attended (Lt. Ellington wasn't a combat officer and she knew it as did everyone else. No one expected her to contribute any thing, but she was there.) It started with Major Grant stating that although this was now completely a military operation it was his opinion that I should remain visibly 'in charge' with him filling the role as my 'advisor' and 'executive officer'. I knew that in some ways he was right in thinking that projecting the image of 'the President's son' leading the relief efforts would look good publicly, but I wasn't sure why he was suddenly so willing to take that position. Towards the end of the meeting, as we discussed possible failures that might happen, I realized that this way any mistakes could be attributed to my 'youth' and my 'inexperience' and instead of people blaming him, and possibly reacting very negatively I'd either get the blame, or people would shrug it off and feel sorry for me having made a mistake.

I'd never thought Major Grant was stupid, but that made me respect him a little more. He was a crafty operator, able to take this situation and use it to his advantage. He knew that the senior officers, and my dad would credit him with most of the success that was made here, and the people would get a wonderful image of me being 'in charge'. Mistakes could be made relatively safely without him taking the blame, and with my 'image' sheltering the government from the worst possible reactions. It was a good plan, and one that I found I couldn't disagree with.

The plans that were made during that meeting for integration of the troops as they arrived into a central command looked pretty good. Major Grant would be handling most of the details, with Captain Williams backing him up. Captain Williams was also an asset as my old watch commander from home, and as one of dad's 'primary assistants' during the first days of the crisis. Word would be spread of his connections to me and dad, further bolstering confidence in the command team among our troops, and eventually among the citizens still in town.

By the time the meeting finished, it was time for lunch. The food from the galley was going to be rationed until fresh supplies arrived since it looked like we were going to be here for a while. It had been decided (although I never did find out by whom) that officers and civilians would be served food from the galley while everyone else would make do with the Army's MRE packs (Meals Ready to Eat). I tried to protest that I would eat the MRE as well, but the look Major Grant gave me convinced me otherwise.

That's why I was eating lunch in my cabin with Joanna, Deidre, and their sons.

"I told the reporter that I'd do an interview with her this afternoon." Deidre told me after we'd eaten in silence for a while. Tim was watching me constantly as he ate. The other boy, Sandy had remained silent every time I'd seen him, and I noticed that he only looked at two people: Tim and his own mother, Joanna. The door was shut, and the only other person in here was Richardson.

"I'm sure she'll appreciate that." I told Deidre and realized that now would be a good time for some questions about Tim, and me. I'd been running thoughts about him through my head, and hoped that maybe I could find some answers. "I was wondering if you'd be willing to answer some questions about Tim. I've been thinking about our situation."

"I'll try." She said nervously, picking at her food a bit. "He's always been my little 'miracle baby'. I've been so blessed to have him in my life."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Oh, it's just that my husband and I almost didn't have children." She said with a soft, sad smile. "I had fertility problems and the first set of fertility drugs I tried didn't work. They cost so much money and we really couldn't afford to try again. Then we got a chance to participate in a study for a new form of the drugs. We agreed, and I got pregnant with Tim. The study was cut off though, because several of the people in it had horrible experiences. Deformed children, stillborn babies, and a high rate of miscarriages happened to most of the people in the study from what I was told. We were lucky again, not only did I give birth, but Tim was probably the best child any parent could hope for. He's even really smart. He loves chemistry and the sciences, but especially chemistry. We bought him a kid's chemistry set when he was five and he mastered everything it could do in a month!"

"Mom!" Tim groaned aloud and I laughed. "You tell everyone that story!"

"Well it's true, son." She said with a fond smile and I laughed again as Tim blushed.

"My parents called me their miracle child as well." I said. They looked at me oddly for that wording and I realized they probably didn't know I was adopted. "My birth parents, I should say. Dad adopted me into the Jacobs family. I think my parents may very well have been part of that study because they told me once they had been worried I'd be born with problems like the other kids in the study. They even told me the name of the drug, it was Marizoporan or something like that."

"That's the drug." Deidre confirmed with a nod.

"Okay, that's two of us." I said with a nod of my own head. "I'll confirm later if that makes all of us."

"You think it might be the drug that did this?" She asked.

"It would make sense, if there were as many deformities and problems as you reported." I said slowly. This field wasn't something I was especially good at, and I doubted I'd ever be good at genetics and chemistry. It just didn't click with me like other areas did. "Do you have any idea how big the study population was?"

"It was a few thousand couples." Deidre said slowly.

"So, there could be a several hundred or more kids like Tim and I." I said softly. "I believe most of the children would be between my age and Tim's age."

"Yes, that's likely." Deidre said. "We were one of the last couples taken into the study. You'd have been born shortly before Tim was conceived. I remember they came to me a month after Tim was conceived and told me that they wanted me to abort because of the high number of deformities in the other children. I told them 'no' and insisted on waiting. They took ultrasounds every week after that and paid all of our hospital bills and everything. They offered me another fertility drug year later, but we didn't want any more children. Tim was enough for us."

"My parents probably accepted because they had twin daughters." I said, and felt a moment of sadness for my dead sisters.

"Tim, Sandy, are you two done?" Deidre asked and the boys nodded. They'd been running their finger over the empty plates, and licking them clean for the past minute. All the rest of us still had some food left on others. "Why don't you go see if Professor Higgs will let you play on his computer?"

Sandy looked expectantly at Tim, who looked at his mother for a long moment. He nodded slowly before standing up and leaving. Deidre looked at Richardson for a moment and then shot me a meaningful look. Richardson had locked the door behind the kids before sitting back down and picking up a book. I shook my head to tell her he'd be staying.

"There's something about what Tim can do that you need to be aware of." She said after another moment, looking at the remaining greens on her plate like they were making her sick. "It's not pretty, and it involves some pretty…mature topics."

"If you're talking about sex, rape, drugs, torture, or death, I'm pretty sure I can handle whatever it is you're going to say." I answered her and she nodded sadly.

"It seems like most kids are going to have a passing familiarity with those topics." She said sadly before taking a deep breath. Joanna just listened, pushing a piece of meat around on her plate. "Most of the time, Timmy would touch someone, and be able to control them a little. It didn't really last long, a day or two, but enough for Jefferson's purposes. He'd send Timmy into a shelter and Timmy would go outside that night and touch the guards, and Jefferson's men would walk right on in."

"I understand that." I said and she nodded, swallowing nervously.

"Joanna and I realized that as long as he had Timmy, and as long as he could make Timmy do what he wanted, more and more people would die." She told me and I nodded in agreement. It was a simple conclusion to reach. "That's why we tried to escape, Joanna and I, along with the boys. It didn't work though and he caught us. That was when he put the chains on us, and the boys, and he…"

She broke off, and started crying softly. Joanna leaned into her, holding her tightly and crying as well. I could tell it was something hard for them to remember, and harder to tell about, and my brain told me what it had to have been that would be so horrible.

"He had his men rape them in front of you." I stated, my face going pale. "He had the boys…raped."

"Yes." Deidre said softly, getting more control of herself. "He thought it was only Timmy's hands that would work, so he made him wear gloves and then two of his…men raped them in front of us."

"Something happened with the one that raped Tim." I stated and she nodded again.

"It was obvious that whatever it was Tim does when he 'touches' people had happened." She said softly. "The…Jefferson was pissed as hell. He almost hit Timmy, but stopped because he was afraid Timmy would do it to him as well. Instead he locked his man up so he couldn't try to help Timmy escape. The man died two weeks later. He killed himself because he couldn't help Timmy. That made Jefferson think even more, and he…he made Tim have sex with young girl they'd taken at one of the shelters. Jefferson's men had been raping her. He held a gun to my head to force Timmy to do it, and the poor girl, she reacted like the man had. Jefferson locked her up as well, and she killed herself in a matter of days."

"Oh shit." I muttered, thinking immediately of Jimmy. I also thought about a few hundred, or more, young people like us across the country, not knowing what they could do, or knowing what they could do and using it for their own purposes, or being used like Tim had been. This couldn't be a secret anymore, not from dad. He needed to know. There was too much danger.

"Yes, it was horrible." Deidre said sadly, thinking my response had been just about the girl's death. "Tim cried for days about the whole thing, but fortunately Jefferson didn't make him do it again after he tried once and Tim couldn't, or wouldn't 'perform'. I think he might have though, with you if he could have figured out how to make Tim 'perform'."

"Deidre, I want to thank you for being so open with me." I told her. "You know, if we're right about there being more kids like Tim and I, than the impact could be…"

"Huge." Joanna said. "It could also be devastating. There's something else that Deidre didn't tell you. When Timmy wouldn't perform that one time, he made Sandy try to do it with Timmy. They didn't go all that far, but well, this is embarrassing to talk about when it's your son, but well…Sandy had an orgasm. Yes, that's a better way of saying it, and well after that…"

"He was pretty much bonded to Tim." I finished for he and she nodded.

"I need to tell dad about this." I said, and they both nodded.

"What do you think he'll probably do?" Deidre asked with a look of fear on her face.

"I know one thing he won't do." I stated firmly. "He won't use us like Jefferson did. Beyond that, I'm not sure. I do know that I can control it somewhat. I'm just learning how, but I haven't gone through what Tim did. I've actually been able to keep it from affecting other people unless I want it to, like with Jefferson's man who was holding me by the throat."

"Can you teach Timmy that control?" Deidre asked.

"I'm going to try." I said. "I also think that's what we should do with any others that can do this. Get them to learn how to control it, and make sure they understand ethics, about not taking away people's free will except maybe when their life is in danger. They'll have to be watched…and dealt with if they use their abilities to do wrong things. I don't like the idea, especially since it includes me, but I don't think there's much choice."

"No, there's not." Joanna said. "I look at my little boy and I see that he's going to be tied to Timmy for the rest of his life. How's he going to have any family of his own?"

"We'll just have to handle that as time goes by." I said softly, looking over at Richards who was looking at me with a soft smile and shrugged as if to say 'I don't care'. I had told both women that he was a trusted family friend, but nothing more.

"I don't want to lose Timmy." Deidre said. "But I also don't want to leave Idaho. Both Joanna and I were talking, and we want to stay, help rebuild the state. We feel like we owe it to them, but Timmy, he needs guidance and I don't think you're going to want to leave him here, will you?"

"No, I think for now he'll need to stay around me." I said honestly, surprised at their acceptance being so easily obtained. "I was hoping you'd come back with them, but I know we'll want to keep an eye on him and make sure no one with bad intentions gets their hands on him."

"I'll…agree to whatever you require for him, as long as you promise me he'll be allowed to come home once and a while for holidays." Deidre said softly.

"That goes for Sandy too." Joanna mumbled, tears in her eyes. "He can't be separated from Timmy now."

"We'll make sure both boys are safe." I said. "I must ask you one more favor. Can you leave me in here alone for a bit? I need to make a phone call."

"Of course." Joanna said softly, putting her fork down. "I'm sorry, but I'm not really that hungry anymore. Deidre, how about we check on the boys?"

"Yes, why don't we do that?" Deidre said softly as she too stood up. They left together, and when Richardson had closed the door, I looked at him for a long while.

"What do you think about this?" I asked him and he shrugged.

"I get to be your bodyguard for a long, long time." He said with a little chuckle. "Just don't send me away. Oh, and you better get Jimmy's ass up here quick or you'll regret it for an even longer time."

I just stared at him for a few minutes, wondering what I had done to him, and to Jimmy, no matter how unknowingly.