Dawn of Tears - 15. Talking

Note to Readers: Some might think that a thirteen year old would react with eagerness and joy at learning he could take control of people by essentially kissing them. Well, history has proven that some would have been very happy about that level of control over their lives. Me? Let's just say many of the tears I cry each morning are for those I touched with my power.

It's as much of a curse as a blessing.

"Are you sure you're alright, son?" Dad's voice was still clear despite the burst of static that occasionally came through the satellite connection.

"For the third time, dad, I'm fine." I said, slightly exasperated. We were on a satellite connection, and the signal was being scrambled. I'd been assured by Airman Casters that once the call was connected, no one, not even him or his counterpart on Air Force One could listen in on the call.

"Okay, so what's the call about son?" Dad asked. "We got your written report and saw some of the footage while we were meeting with the King. He said you've got some guts, but I'm still chewing you out when you get home for putting yourself at risk like that."

"You're going to have a lot more to chew me out for soon enough, dad." I said into the phone, grinning slightly.

"Okay, son, spill the beans." Dad said in a very guarded tone.

"Henry, it's just you and dad, right?" I asked quietly. "It's about kissing the toad."

"We're alone, but are you sure about this, Dylan?" Henry's voice held an edge of fear to it.

"What's this about boys?" Dad's voice was now very guarded.

"Dad, I have a question that is going to seem totally unrelated to you, but I promise you that it is very, very related." I said quickly. "I need you to tell me if you and mom were participating in a study for a new fertility drug when Henry was conceived."

"Did Henry tell you about that?" Dad asked suspiciously.

"No, I didn't. I'd pretty much forgotten about it until now." Henry said softly.

"Then how did you know about that, Dylan?" Dad asked very suspiciously, "And what does this have to do with what's going on in Idaho?"

"Henry, there's another boy like us." I said softly into the phone, and I could here Henry's gasp of surprise.

"What do you mean another boy like you two?" Dad asked. "You mean a kid smart like you two are?"

"That's part of it, dad." I said softly, and then decided to just get it over with. "But there's also something more about us that we haven't told you, something that until now we didn't think you needed to know about."

"If this is about sexuality I'm going to be very upset." Dad said in a very angry tone.

"No, not really dad." I said quickly. "Dad, Henry and I can…do things that most people wouldn't believe. Things that we don't really understand, but we know it works."

"What, you're going to tell me you have some kind of magical powers?" Dad scoffed.

"I wouldn't call it magic, dad." I said urgently. "More like abnormal abilities most people don't have. It's based on touch. We're just learning about it, so we can't tell you everything about it, but we've noticed that when we've felt strongly about something, and touched someone, we could tell that person to do something, and they'd do whatever it was. It starts with a tingly sensation, and it's like I push my will inside the other person, and they listen to whatever I say. Dad, there's a boy here who was also a part of that same fertility drug experiment. He was conceived with the same drug that we were, and that bastard Jefferson was using him."

"Explain." My dad ordered in a very tight voice. I had a pretty good idea he was staring hard at Henry who was probably very nervous right now.

"The boy is named Tim and he was the National Guard Commander's son here." I said quickly. "When Jefferson's men stormed their house, Timmy panicked and grabbed one of Jefferson's men, and begged him not to let him die. The man turned his gun on Jefferson's men and fought them until he was killed. Jefferson figured out that Tim could use this ability to control others and he used it ruthlessly. He also figured out that there were stages to this control, and different methods could be used to establish different levels of control. By just using touch, it's possible to use a limited form of the control to give basic commands. It wears off over time. He'd get Tim to go into heavily guarded shelters and then use the touch control to let Jefferson's men past the guards."

"I see." Dad said softly this time, and with a very worried tone. "This isn't some prank is it? You're telling me the truth here?"

"Yes, dad, he's telling the truth." Henry said over the phone.

"I won't ask for a demonstration just yet." Dad said. "You said there are different levels of control?"

"Yes, there are." I continued. "There's a more…intimate way of making contact. When it's done that way, the control of the other person appears to be permanent. It doesn't fade and the person is pretty much dedicated totally to whoever they are…bound to. Another person like us can't take control of them."

"They'd make pretty useful bodyguards, or spies." Dad muttered, and I almost laughed.

"Yes, they would." I agreed. "The only problem is that they also lose some objectivity where the person they are bound to is concerned. There's also the fact that in the wrong hands it could become a version of slavery."

"There is that." Dad said. "What else?"

"When the person that is bound in…this way is separated from their…I don't know what word to use here…but anyway, when they are separated, the bound person slowly loses their sense of self-preservation and eventually dies." I said softly. "Jefferson found this out after Tim's mother and her friend, the Governor's wife tried to escape. The women knew that Jefferson was using Tim to do horrible things and that if they could escape, people would live. They didn't make it out, and as punishment, they were forced to watch as their boys were raped. At the time, Jefferson thought Tim had to touch someone with his hands to make it work, but when the man who was raping Tim suddenly started to try to help Tim, he realized his mistake. He locked that man up so he couldn't help Tim, and the man died two weeks later."

"It's a good thing that bastard is dead now or I'd be flying out there to kill him myself." Dad growled in pure anger, and I thoroughly agreed with him.

"Jefferson experimented some more, and a young girl died after only a few days of separation." I told him.

"So this more total control requires sex?" Dad asked.

"Not really." I asked. "It can happen without intercourse really happening. It just requires more closeness than just a touch. I think it's triggered either by sexual passion, or by strong feelings of love, like friends or brothers."

"What about you and Henry?" Dad asked.

"It…" I faltered, unsure about how to explain this part.

"It's different when the feelings of closeness are between two people with our…abilities." Henry said softly. "It's like a meeting of equals, and neither of us ends up bounded to the other…but we also get stronger. I can feel the tingling almost all the time now and I have to concentrate to keep it from affecting anyone I shake hands with or touch. It's a good thing it requires skin contact."

"Dylan, that man who grabbed you. I saw the video. You controlled him, didn't you?" Dad asked suddenly.

"Yes, I did." I admitted. "His bare hand was touching my neck, and I used that to touch him and control him enough to end the situation. Richardson got the meaning of message and knew to shoot Jefferson. Richardson's first name is Sammy."

"I see." Dad said. "You you've…experimented with one of your guards."

"It was…not really intentional." I said. "I was talking to him, and something…emotional passed between us, something that was private but I don't think you'd worry about too much and well, it bound him to me. I've been trying to figure this whole thing out, as has Henry and it's been tough, but once I heard about how Tim was used, and figured it had something to do with the fertility drug, because I knew my parents were part of the same study, I knew we had to talk to you about this."

"Have you discussed this with Richardson?" Dad asked in a very tight voice.

"He just asked me to make sure he's part of my security detail permanently." I said. "It doesn't change the person, really. They're pretty much the same person, but there's a…dedication that is a part of him. He's dedicated to making sure I'm safe, and that if there's anything he can do to help me, he'll do it. He's sitting in the room right now, reading a book."

"Put it on speakerphone right now." Dad said, and I complied. Richardson looked up when he heard dad's voice. "Richardson, this is Jim Jacobs. Have you heard what my son's been telling me?"

"Yes, sir, I have." Richardson said alertly, staring at the phone.

"How are you feeling?" Dad asked.

"I feel fine sir." Richardson answered immediately. "If you're wondering how I feel about this…bond, then I can tell you that I couldn't be happier."

"Maybe you better explain that to me." Dad said.

"I don't know how to put everything into words, Mr. President, but I'll try." Richardson said. "It's like, before there was always something missing. Now, though, there isn't anything missing. I know my place in life, and I feel like I'm part of something bigger, better than I was before. Dylan's a great person and I can't think of anyone better for me to be…bound to. I'll do everything I can to help him, to keep him safe. If it's necessary, I'll give my life for him without a moment's hesitation."

"What do you want to do in life, Richardson?" Dad asked.

"I've always loved computers, sir." Richardson answered immediately. "After I finished my active duty, I started tech school and joined the National Guard. I love being a soldier as well. I'm reading one of my course books now, trying to keep up with my studies even though my schooling's been interrupted. I still want to do that, sir, even now. It's just I also want to help Dylan as well, and protect him."

"What about marriage?" Dad asked. "Don't you want to get married and have children?"

"It might be nice, but, well, I've never met someone that I feel that strongly for." Richardson asked, and I knew he was hedging a bit. Richardson was as gay as I was. "If I ever did, I'd think about it, but I'd have to make sure it wouldn't interrupt my duties to Dylan too much."

"Thank you for your answers, soldier." Dad said. "Dylan, pick the phone back up.

"Okay, speakerphone's off." I said as soon as I had picked up the phone.

"Son, I have to admit this whole thing has me very worried." Dad said a moment later. "If it was just you and Henry, I'd be a lot easier about this. I know you boys, and I know that you'd never intentionally…misuse this ability. But, from what you've said about this drug being the cause of it, there's probably more kids like you around the country, and there's this Tim to consider."

"It's got me worried enough to call you as soon as I could." I told him honestly. "Dad, there's so much potential for misuse here that we have to get it under control as soon as possible. There's also the fact that well, let's face it, if people in general found out about this, we'd have a major public crisis on our hands."

"That's an understatement." Dad said. "It could undo everything not only back home, but with other countries as well. We've just settled the 'war' here, and since Henry's shaken hands with every single person on their negotiating team, they'd suspect he'd done something to them."

"I didn't." Henry said flatly. "I made sure of that."

"But still, they'd wonder, and it would put people at risk." Dad said. "Who knows about this?"

"Us, Richardson, Tim, his friend Sandy, their mothers, and some of Jefferson's people." I answered immediately. "Oh, and one person back in Alabama."

"Who?" Dad asked in a very sharp tone.

"Jimmy Connolly." I said softly. "He…when we met at the studio he got emotional and I tried to comfort him, give him a hug, tell him things are going to get better…and I accidentally bonded him. He was what triggered this, and made me realize something was happening."

"Is he going to die from being separated?" Dad asked immediately, and I was grateful that was his first concern.

"He might, and I'm scared at risking finding out." I admitted. "I just can't think of a good excuse for how to get him up here."

"I can." Dad said firmly. "I'll send General Connolly up there immediately to inspect your operations. I'll tell him to bring his wife and kids to help the 'distraught' family of the state's former governor and guard commander. It's thin, but he'll only stay for one day. The tankers are supposed to leave in the morning to head up there to where you are. He'll hitch a ride on one of them, and come back the next day, minus his son."

"Thanks dad." I said with a sigh of relief.

"You both need to be careful." Dad said. "You can't use this ability anymore unless it's a life or death situation."

"We won't, dad." Henry said immediately.

"Dad, we need to find out who the other children were in that study, and find any that are alive, and we need to do it without letting anyone else know." I said.

"I think I have an idea.' Henry said and I could hear dad telling him to speak. "I could do some research when we get back home; say it's for a study project. If anyone asks, I'll say that dad told me of the fertility study and I wanted to find out how many other kids were like Dylan and I, lucky survivors of a failed drug. I could say I was doing the research to help figure out what had gone wrong, why such a failed drug was allowed to be tried on humans. That should get us the information on other kids that were born and where they are now."

"It's a little thin but we'll flesh it out some more." Dad said. "You okay with that Dylan?"

"Yes, no problem here." I said. "Dad, when we find out where the other kids are, how do we go about getting them where we can keep an eye on them?"

"Let's all think about that problem." Dad said. "We don't have to figure that out until we have the names and locations of them all. We should have an answer by then. Now, Dylan, of those people that know out there, how well do you think they will keep this secret?"

"Joanna and Deidre would die to protect that secret." I said firmly. "Deidre loves her son dearly, and Joanna's boy Sandy, well it amused Jefferson to bond the boy to Tim and use Sandy's state as a threat to keep the rest of them in line even more. All he had to was separate the boys for the tiniest of infractions, and it would put him at risk."

"I take it that was why he insisted in the video that you shake hands with they boy?" Dad asked.

"Yeah, he thought he'd get Tim to control me." I said. "That's the danger there, and you know, it might be good to have Henry and I to shake anyone's hand before they shake yours. Man, think about it. You go shake hands in a crowd and one of these kids is there and shakes your hand..."

"I am thinking about that son." Dad said. "I think you and Henry are going to be doing some limited experimenting so that we know the dangers. Now, back to the subject, the mothers are relatively safe, what about the others?"

"There's the prisoner that I took control of yesterday." I said. "No one's questioned him yet, but I said I wanted to after lunch. I don't know, the limited control that a touch incurs won't be enough to keep him from blabbing his mouth, and he knows not only about Timmy, but me. Then there are the followers of Jefferson's that fled. Many of them might know as well."

"It's a big risk having this prisoner able to talk, and I can't think of a way to keep him from talking to others, especially when he's on trial." Dad said. "The only thing I can think of is the deeper control method, and since there's no way he will be allowed to remain near you…"

"He will die." I finished for Dad. "Dad, is…is word of this getting out, and being believed really as dangerous as we think it is?"

"Yes, son, it is." Dad said. "If everyone in the world knew about this, they'd be thinking the same thing I am, and feeling the same fear I am at this very moment. It's only the fact that I know you boys, and I know you would never intentionally misuse this ability, that is keeping me from ordering you locked up and kept from all contact for the rest of your lives. Other people won't react as nicely. They won't be satisfied until your dead bodies have been examined by a million doctors from all over the world, and then they'd probably burn your remains just to make sure."

"Thanks for the comfort, dad." I muttered miserably. "I'll handle the prisoner, and any others of Jefferson's men we find. They won't say a word of our…abilities and I'll also make sure their deaths don't look suspicious."

"Son, I wish there was another way…" Dad said softly.

"I do too, dad." I replied truthfully. "But, you know, it's not the first time I've killed to protect others. Last night over thirty people died at my orders. I don't like it, and I'll probably have a nightmare or two about what I'm going to be doing, but I'll live and I'll get over it. There's more important things at stake here."

"Son, there's one last thing." Dad said and I braced for whatever this was. "This boy, Tim, how safe is he? Can he take control of your soldiers?"

"He…he could if he decided to." I answered honestly. "Dad, I don't think he would. He's reacting very positively to me, almost hanging on my every word. I know he couldn't take control of Richardson, or Jimmy when he gets here. When one of us does the deeper control, the bonding, it seals them to us and another one of us can't take control of them. Henry and I proved that already, and it's been confirmed here already when Tim touched Richardson. Tim's not as…mature as Henry and I are. I think he was spoiled a lot more than we were."

"I'm tempted to have you take him over." Dad said and I shuddered.

"I don't think I can." I told him. "Remember about Henry and I? I don't think we can take one another over the way we can…others."

"When you take someone over in this…deeper way," Dad asked very slowly, and I could tell he was thinking hard, "what kind of contact is required to keep them alive?"

"I think being around, maybe regular touches like clasping hands or brushing shoulders." I answered, thinking hard about the question. "I think staying in the immediate vicinity would be fine. The same building, the same plane, where they see us and have contact with us on a regular basis should be enough. After I bonded Richardson he seemed fine even though I barely saw him for a few days."

"Dylan." Richardson's voice interrupted me and I asked dad to hold a moment. When I nodded, Richardson continued. "I kind of freaked that first day, it was kind of intense, but every time I saw you it was better. If I'm getting what you're trying to answer, I'd say anyone you bonded would be fine as long as they were around you and could see you were okay. It's only when you're in danger or you're away that I get edgy."

"Does it bother you to think about what may happen to you if you're separated from me?" I asked him.

"Yes." He said. "I don't want to go crazy and die, but it also makes me worry about you, and about not being there when you need me."

"I'll do my best to make sure that never happens." I said, and he smiled, returning to his book. "Dad, did you hear that?"

"Enough to get what I wanted to know." Dad said in a calmer voice. "Son, I know I just told you not to use your abilities on anyone else…but I think I'm going to change that a bit for your safety."

"Dad, some of these men are married, they have kids." I said immediately in protest.

"Dylan, I know that." Dad said slowly. "Let me think."

"How about just the unmarried ones?" Henry said softly.

"A little more than half the squad is unmarried." I told them. "If I remember correctly, there's seven that aren't married."

"What about your support staff?" Dad asked.

"Almost all are married." I said immediately. "Dad, doing this to them…it would take them away from their families."

"The soldiers that aren't married…and the military support staff that aren't married either." Dad said in a firm voice. "I want you to make sure they cannot betray you, or be forced to betray you. Son, they are the most likely people to figure this out. I'll bring up the topic of your support staff having to spend so much time away from their family by being deployed with you in these rough times. I'll have them find people with the skills that we need and are young, unmarried. The officers, most officers are married so they'll always be a risk, but your enlisted staff, we can make them permanent without raising too many eyebrows; especially when things calm down a little more. We can have them resign and then assign them to you as civilian support staff. It won't raise too many eyebrows that way. We'll include those in a serious relationship but not yet married. Henry, this goes for you too. I want your staff as reliable as Dylan's. There's no telling if there's another Jefferson out there with control of kid, waiting for you to come within their reach."

"Dad, this…" I started to protest, but he cut me off.

"Son, I know you two won't misuse this." He told me. "If it makes you feel better, I don't like this at all, but I'm not going to have you two lynched, and I'm not going to ignore this threat. I only thank God that he gave you boys to me, and gave you such strong morals. I dread thinking what could happen if you boys weren't here. We got very lucky. Dylan, you're bearing the lion's share of this right now. I know it's rough on you, but if it makes you feel better, I don't think I'd have done half as well as you have."

"Thanks Dad." I said softly.

"Okay, we're running late here." Dad said in a rush. "I've got that damn press conference to announce what really happened with the nukes, and the new treaty we just signed. You're going to be watching the conference, right?"

"Yes, and they're doing reaction shots with me, and then a follow-up interview." I replied.

"Okay, listen, I want you to have Richardson watch that Tim boy until you get your ducks lined up with your men. Tim goes nowhere without someone you've bonded to you already in his company. I mean that, no exceptions." Dad ordered. "No more conversations about this, even over encrypted channels. From now on we'll meet in person. You're up there for three weeks, Dylan. Then I'm pulling you home. We should have the new replacements for your team then and you can pull them into your group. After that, no one else unless I authorize it or your life is in danger."

"Got that sir." I replied, knowing any protest would be useless.

"Okay, Dylan, good luck and be on your guard." He said before hanging up. Richardson looked at me expectantly.

"So you're going to be recruiting more, eh?" He asked me with a lewd smile. "Can I watch?"

"No, you'll be watching Tim." I told him and he frowned. "Make sure he doesn't take control of anyone. If he does, you get him back to me immediately, even if it's the basic 'touch' thing. If he's doing something dangerous, you have authorization to kill him if the situation demands that action. Oh, and don't kill just because he might be dangerous. You better be ready to justify your actions to me, and to my dad."

"No problem at all, Dylan." Richardson said with a smile.

"What are you waiting for?" I demanded. "Tim's not in here. Oh, and how long do I have before the interview?"

"The press guys need to get in here to set up right away." Richardson said. I sighed and nodded. He put the book away, and opened the door. He was nearly knocked down by Genevieve's crew, and I laughed. Connors came in behind them and told me if I wanted to do that other 'interview' I'd better do it now. I nodded at him, told Genevieve to get her set up done and I'd be back. Connors reminded me I had about twenty minutes before the press conference started and that I'd need to get my make-up from this morning touched up before that happened. I'd forgotten I was still wearing the crap.

One of guard detail was standing outside the pilot's bunk room and snapped to attention when I appeared from the curtains closing off the main cabin from this area. Connors unlocked the door to the bunk room and led the way inside. The prisoner was manacled, hand and foot, with chains similar to those used on the women and boys by Jefferson. The man, I saw in the light of day, was thin, with scraggly, filthy hair and looked absolutely disgusting. I shuddered as I looked at him, sitting on the edge of the thin bed, head in his hands.

"Out." I told Connors. The sergeant started to protest, but gave up as soon as he saw my face. He shut the door behind him, but I knew he'd be waiting just outside. I hoped that this room was somewhat soundproofed and figured it was if it had been meant for a pilot to sleep while the plane was in flight. The man on the bunk stared up at me at the sound of my voice and got a horrified expression on his face.

"You!" He said in a hoarse whisper. "Get away from my you freak! Don't touch me."

"Shut up." I ordered, stepping across the very small room and punching in the face. He fell back on the bed, hand covering his nose and eyes wide. I didn't give him a moment to react, though, as I felt the tingling beginning throughout my body. It was different, though, fed by my anger and disgust it was almost seething with intensity. I seized the man's wrist and pulled him to his feet as the tingling inside of me rushed into him through my hand on his wrist. He tensed as he stood up, and moaned, his eyes glazing over. For a moment, I hoped this would be enough, but although I could feel a control over him growing, I knew it was not enough and would fade eventually. Still, I couldn't bring myself to kiss that ugly mouth, now covered in blood from his nose.

He no longer struggled, but was almost leaning into me. Keeping him so that we barely touched except for my hand on his wrist, I took my free hand, reached into his grimy pants and felt to see if he was excited. He was, and I almost laughed at his relatively small size. He groaned again, and I felt my own excitement growing despite my utter disgust for this man. As I grew more excited, and manipulated him as gently as I could stand, I felt the tingling, the power within me building to a crescendo. He moaned louder this time, and I felt his body start to jerk, and the power flooding from me into him. His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed with a whimper onto the floor. My hand was pulled out of his pants as he did that, and I stared at the disgusting mess on it for a moment. I looked around the room for a moment while he continued whimpering a bit and decided to wipe my hand on the inside of the bed's blanket.

"You…you did that to me." He whispered when I'd finished cleaning my hand. It was still sticky and I wanted to wash it badly. "You did what that boy did, and you did it to me. I feel…so unworthy to be yours. How can you even stand me?"

"I want you to atone for what you've done in your life." I said in a firm voice, looking down at him. From what Richardson had described the bond feeling like, I knew how to get what I wanted from this man.

"How can I…what do you want me to do?" He stuttered.

"First, you will never mention what I can do, or what Timmy can do to anyone." I said in a voice as devoid of emotion as any I'd ever uttered. "If anyone asks how Jefferson did the things he did, tell him he got his hands on a very powerful drug. Tell them he used Timmy to sneak into the shelters, and drug the guards, and that he intended to use the drug on me and the other soldiers the night we came here. You won't make any mention or reference to special abilities or imply we're any different from other people. If other people claim otherwise, you'll ridicule them and say that it was a lie that Jefferson used to fool people. You'll share everything else, though. You'll tell everyone about what Jefferson and you did. You'll tell where every body is buried, or was burnt, or whatever you did. Every attack on every home, every atrocity, every rape, every beating, everything you did to hurt other people, you'll tell, and you'll tell about every crime you've committed from the day you were born. Then, when you're done, you'll tell them that you were wrong, and that you can only pray that God will one day forgive you. When you've told everything, and you've asked forgiveness, you'll have one last task to perform, and then I'll forgive you."

"Anything!" The man said with a look of hope on his face. It twisted my stomach and I felt like I was covered in filth.

"When you are dead, and your spirit set from free from this world, after you have told all thing things I have told you to tell, and kept the secrets I have told you to keep, then I will forgive you completely, and you will have kept me totally safe." I said, hating myself for every word.

"I'll do it." He said fiercely. "I'll do just that, and keep you safe. You'll see!"

"I hope you do." I said softly before walking to the door and opening it. Connors looked at me curiously as I walked out, seeing my look of disgust.

"You okay?" He asked me with a look of worry.

"You know, Paul, I've never asked you, are you married?" I said.

"No, I'm not." He said with a smile. "You did ask me."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot." I answered, shocked I really had forgotten. "That man…the things they did…disgusting."

"You shouldn't worry about slag like him." Connors said gently, locking the door and leading me by my arm back towards my cabin. The cameras and lights were set up already, everyone just making last minute corrections while Genevieve finished her own makeup. Connors told them to get out for five minutes. They almost protested, but Genevieve took one look at me, narrowed her eyes in concern and told them to leave with her.

"Paul, I want to be alone." I whispered. He nodded, shutting the door behind him and I rushed into the bathroom. I scrubbed my hand for what had to be forever, sniffing it over and over for any trace of that smell, but I couldn't get rid of it all. I was starting to panic when I heard a voice behind me.

"You okay Dylan?" The almost musical voice of Darren Knight said and I turned around quickly. I stared at him for a moment. He was back to wearing what the squids called 'working blues'. Dark blue, almost black long sleeve shirt with a black tie and slacks. He looked so clean cut, so normal for a moment that I thought my heart was about to crack.

"So dirty." I whispered and he got a very concerned look on his face, taking the hand I was holding out and looking at it with a confused look. I could feel the tingling begin, but my mind was too fogged to really handle that fact.

"You've got some blood on your uniform." He said softly. "Plus your face is a mess. We just got word that the press conference is going to be delayed for another twenty minutes. Your dad is having a last minute conversation with some of the foreign delegation about some issue. Why don't you take a shower and change your uniform."

"Yes, uh, yeah." I stuttered and he got very concerned, releasing my hand and stepping back.

"Maybe I should get Lt. Ellington." He stated and reacted immediately. I'd never really noticed before but he was taller than me. I reached out and grabbed his shoulder in a tight grip.

"No, just stand still." I said. "I'm feeling a little dizzy."

"What's wrong?" He asked. "What happened?"

"Just tired I think." I said slowly and he reached upwards with a look of sympathy on his face, gently wrapping his had around my wrist on his shoulder. As soon as he did that, I felt the tingling power move into his hand, and I stepped forward, drawn to his cleanliness, his normalcy. It was so refreshing after touching that filth.

"What, no, I'm not…" Darren Knight stated, his brown eyes going wide as I stood up on my toes and touched my lips to his. I felt my head clearing, the sense of filthiness fading as my lips covered his. I could feel a passion growing again, a strength and power so very different than that beast had summoned up. I felt like I was being cleansed purified by the touch of my lips on Darren's mouth. He moaned, and fell back against the wall of the small bathroom. I hoped there was no one else in the cabin, but really didn't want to stop and find out. Darren was bending his head now, leaning into my kiss with a moan of hunger. His hand that had been grasping my wrist now moved down my arm, rubbing it through the uniform material in a way that made my skin tingle. I was surprised when his tongue pushed through my lips and invaded my mouth, and for a moment wondered if he was like Henry or Tim, but there was no tingling coming from him, just from me into him, even as his tongue played with mine in my mouth, I could still feel the power moving into him.

His hand moved from my arm and grabbed my butt cheek, pulling me tightly against him. I growled at the passion I felt as my body rubbed against him. His other hand moved behind my bed, pulling it deeper into the kiss. When I thought my lungs were going to burst from lack of oxygen, his hand turned into a fist, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back.

"What the fuck are you?" He breathed fiercely, but there was no trace of hatred or disgust in his voice, just a fierce passion that sent shivers through me. "I'm not…I don't do this with guys…but you…not even my wife ever made me feel like this!"

"Do you want more?" I asked in a very low voice, staring into those brown eyes of his.

"I want to fuck your mouth, please." He moaned softly, and I reached a hand down to his pants, pulling the zipper down slowly. He moaned again, and the hand grasping my hair began to exert a downward pressure. I had no more than pulled him out, and taken a very large piece of meat into my mouth than I felt my tonsils being coated with a wet, sticky liquid. I was amazed at how sweet it tasted as his entire body jerked slightly. Then he was sliding down the wall, moving into a crouch that left us eye to eye again.

"That…I've never been so quick before." He mumbled exhaustedly. "Not even when I was your age."

"Don't worry, it won't be like that next time." I smiled at him. I had felt the bond setting into him as he experienced his orgasm and knew that like Jimmy and Sammy Richardson, he was now mine. I also felt cleaner than all the washing I'd done earlier on my hand.

"You know, I always thought doing it with guys was disgusting, and I still do, really, but not with you for some reason." He said, pausing a bit. "There was something more there, wasn't there. Was it some drug?"

"No, no drugs." I said softly, wondering how I was going to tell these people when I did this. There was so much to tell, and I wondered how it would affect their acceptance of this situation if they were told by me versus learning about it like Richardson had. Maybe…yes, I was pretty sure I knew how to handle this part of the situation.

"If it wasn't drugs, what was it?" He asked me, not with a worried expression, but just simple curiosity.

"It's a…gift I have." I told him. "It makes us more of a team, for you to help me better, and to make sure that there's no confusion between us. You'll be working for me for a long time now."

"You know, that should scare me, but it doesn't." Darren Knight said with his soft smile lighting up his face. "It actually makes me kind of happy."

"I know." I said gently, standing up and holding out a hand, which he took, and helping him to his feet. He dropped my hand and started to tuck himself back in his pants and zip them up. "Look, there's a few others who share this with you. You know Richardson, the guard always in my cabin?"

"Yeah, he's a nice guy really." Darren said with another smile. "Don't want to have sex with…actually just the thought of it is disgusting."

"Well, don't worry, you won't have to have sex with him." I said with a chuckle. "But, he's bonded to me like you are. Find some time where the two of you can talk alone about things, and he'll help answer your questions. Just make sure no one overhears you, okay? This isn't something a lot of people should know about. Just those I tell you it's okay to know."

"No problem, boss." He answered with a smile. "Speaking of other people, you need to get a shower. That stuff from this morning is pancaked onto your face and you need to get a fresh uniform on as well. You get in the shower, I'll get you a clean uniform."

"You got it." I said and he smiled as he went into the main cabin. I got undressed quickly, and started the water. I was scrubbing my face as I realized that I wasn't feeling exhausted at all. Instead I was feeling totally rested. Last time I'd done this bonding thing more than once I'd been so tired I barely stayed awake. Maybe I was growing stronger now? I thought about it some more as I finished my shower, and shut it off to find Darren standing in the bathroom with a towel for me. My dirty uniform had been taken away already and my boots as well. When I stepped out of the shower, he took the towel and started to dry me off before I could grab it myself.

"I use to always dry my wife off after she got out of the shower." He told me softly as I let him dry me. I was slightly uncomfortable with this, but when he started drying my hair off, I sighed with pleasure. "I'm still not into guys, I want you to know, but when I saw you in the shower, I had this urge to dry you like I did her, and I'm hard as a rock right now. I want to fuck you so bad. Please tell me you'll let me?"

"We'll see." I said slowly and he sighed. This was odd. With Jimmy and Sammy both it had never been like this, them wanting to be on top of me. Maybe it had something to do with him being straight? I wondered if it hurt much, and felt myself getting excited. The thought of doing it with him that way was…interesting. "We might have to try that."

"Yes." He exclaimed excitedly as he finished my very short hair and moved down to my legs. I turned to face him and he stopped, still in a crouch. He stared at my crotch, which was now fully excited, and I saw him lick his lips. "One little taste won't hurt."

"Oh." Was the only thing to escape my mouth as his lips enveloped me. He really got into it after that, and while he wasn't as good as Sammy or Jimmy, it was good enough to send me shooting down his throat. I had to lean against the shower wall as my legs nearly collapsed. He stared at me for a few minutes, a slight smile on his face.

"That wasn't too bad." He said. "Still don't want to do other guys, but that wasn't too bad."

"I think I need to get dressed." I mumbled and he leapt back to his feet.

"Shit, seven minutes. Your uniform is on your desk." He said excitedly, moving back into my cabin. I followed him, still recovering from the orgasm, and my eyes went wide at the cameras. I'd forgotten they were there.

"Darren, the cameras." I mumbled and he looked at me before laughing.

"I already checked, they're turned off." He stated and I sighed with relief. I managed to get dressed fairly quickly. When I was done, he opened the door and I saw Richardson standing there. I wondered why there wasn't a guard inside when Darren had come in and had a suspicion that Richardson had let him in alone.

"Are you feeling better?" Genevieve asked as she edged around the soldier, a worried look on her face.

"Yes." I said softly. "Just a little tired from everything."

"Okay, well, the conference starts in three minutes. You don't have makeup on yet!" She exclaimed.

"Sorry, just getting it now." Darren said quickly, moving back in the room with the makeup kit in hand. Lt. Ellington appeared in the doorway frowning at him while Genevieve's crew got everything ready. Genevieve turned on the television, which was set to receive the satellite broadcast. Darren finished, stepping back for a moment before fixing something on my cheek and moving out of the screen shot. I saw him whispering something to Ellington, who looked slightly mollified.

"We've just got word that the President is moving into the conference room with the King of England, the French President, and the German Chancellor." The announcer, once a news anchor for one of the major networks said with an edge of excitement in his voice. The view shifted from him to a large room that held four podiums. I remembered similar scenes in the past, and the room had always been packed with people, but this time it was filled with nicely dressed men and women, only a few of whom were actually reporters. I noticed Henry in the front row, and realized the brown-haired young adult next to him was the King's son. Henry was dressed in a civilian suit, as was the other young man. There were no soldiers in uniform present in the shot. A door opened and I could see Dad enter with four other men, only one of them immediately recognizable.

"There they are, now entering the room." The announcer's voice spoke in a whisper, even though he was thousands of miles away from the room. "That's French President Francois Delacroix, the new French President leading the group. He's followed by Hans Schelling, the new German Chancellor, and of course the British King and President Jacobs. None of these men held their positions at the time hostilities started between our countries, and rumor has been that is why there has been so little disagreement on how to resolve the issues at hand. This broadcast was delayed twenty-three minutes, not because of any problems amongst the participants but because the German broadcaster lost power temporarily. None of the participants were willing to proceed until all their stations were transmitting for an unspecified reason. As you can see, the leaders have been talking quietly on the stage and are now moving to their podiums. The order in which they will speak has not been announced, but it appears that President Jacobs will go first. Our news teams in Norfolk and Idaho are with the President's wife and oldest son and we'll provide pictures of their reactions to these speeches. The President's youngest son is in the audience here, sitting next to the British King's youngest son. Word is they've become good friends during the last day, okay, here's President Jacobs. We'll be showing a split screen in the lower left corner of your screen of Mrs. Jacobs, and in the lower right of Dylan Jacobs."

The picture of the conference room in Iceland moved up a bit, and I could clearly see my mother on the left side of the screen. She was wearing a dark blue dress and looked like she was sitting inside a cabin very similar to mine, except the desk she was in front of was much lighter in color. I tried not to blush when I looked at my own picture. It was weird seeing me sitting there, watching me, and I almost got little dizzy wrapping my mind around that. I was wearing fatigues again, and I noticed that my eyes looked a little tired.

"My fellow American, people of Great Britain, of France, Germany, Russia, China, Japan, and across the world, we are here today to speak with you in honesty, openness, and pray that you will forgive us for the things that have happened in the recent past." Dad began, and I knew those words were going to throw a lot of people into shock. There had been hints, I'd even given a general idea to some people of the full scope of some of the things I knew, and a part of me had to wonder if there would be stuff I did not know.

"I have been chosen to speak first, because a fair share of the blame for what has happened rests squarely on the shoulders of our country." Dad said and I couldn't help but wince. Politicians don't tell people that it's their fault where they are at. Okay, preachers do that, but…no dad always was a preacher first and foremost. "I know that sentence is probably causing a lot of surprise, and discontent among my own people right now, but it is the truth and I will explain why shortly. Before I do, I will skip to the end, if you will, and share that after our discussions, the leaders here and I have decided that all of our countries are in some part responsible for the problems we face, and that we have all paid a far greater price than anything that can be exacted now. When we leave here, we will approach our neighbors and offer them the opportunity to join us in the Agreement we have reached.

"Now, to discuss how we reached the point where this began. As you know, in early September, terrorist bombings damaged a large portion of the world's oil transportation and transfer facilities. Revolutions in other countries also temporarily limited the flow of oil. In the emergency that followed, the leadership of all of our countries overreacted. American ships were ordered to seize all oil tankers at sea and escort them to US ports. The United States invaded Mexican soil to seize their oil fields, and US operatives in key oil producing countries in South America helped overthrow the governments to procure more oil. American troops in Iraq seized and imprisoned British troops in the south of that country as well.

"The leaders of Great Britain, France, Germany, Russia, China and Japan reacted to these actions by conducting unrestricted naval and air warfare on US forces, and the US responded. Nearly thirty thousand soldiers and sailors died in those conflicts. If we had acted differently, the crisis would have been over in less than a month; but we are now entering the fourth month of this crisis, and the situations in our countries are little better now than we were two months ago.

"Less than one week ago, nuclear weapons fell on the United States, destroying the leaders who had made the decisions that led us down this road and taking hundreds of millions of innocent lives with them. Generations to come will look on the blasted landscape of those cities, as landmarks of how fragile the balance of life can be. The American people right now, cry out for retribution for what was done to their fellow Americans in those cities, and none of us here, in this room, can blame them for wanting their revenge.

"What I must tell them now, even though it pains me to even think of it, is that the attacks on our city were not unjustified, they were not horrible attacks that came out of nowhere, with no just cause. Rather, they were the acts of revenge we ourselves had been crying out for, demanding ever since our cities were vaporized in the hellfire of nuclear war. The weapons that struck the United States were launched with the dying breaths of world leaders who were mere moments from being vaporized in a nuclear attack, launched without provocation or justification by the President of the United States who preceded me to this office."

So far this was nothing new to me, and I watched the television with as neutral of an expression as I could muster. I knew tears were in my eyes nevertheless, and I could see the camera doing a close-up of me, just like the close-up of my mother I looked at. A single tear was rolling down her cheek and she turned away from the television she was watching briefly. Dad paused after that, as if letting his words sink in.

"Right now, I am speaking to my fellow Americans first and foremost." Dad said, looking up from his notes and directly at the camera. "We will never know for sure why those weapons were launched, but there is no doubt that the United States launched first. We are a democratic nation, we elect our leaders to represent us, and we bear some responsibility for the decisions of our leaders as a people. I myself voted for the former President, supported his candidacy, and supported many of his policies. I bear as much blame as does every other American for what he did, but we are not fully to blame because we did not actually make, or encourage, his decision to launch those weapons first. To the people who died in the fires of nuclear war, both in the United States and across the world, I humbly apologize for our grievous mistake in choosing a man who would unleash such devastation on our world, and I beg your forgiveness for those of us who still live. As for the dead who did make the actual decisions, I shall leave history, and God Almighty to judge them because I find myself incapable of doing so now.

"I am a human being, a mortal man." Dad continued, and I could feel his voice resonating as it did when he preached. "I am not god or some super-being. I cannot change the events of the past, I cannot wave my hand and fix the scorched, radioactive soil across the globe, nor can I put food on every table with another wave of my hand. I can do none of those things, yet, even a mortal man may be capable of great feats. I have told my sons that God never sets us a challenge we can not overcome, and I, along with the leaders of all countries of the world, have been set the greatest challenge we have ever, and likely will ever face.

"I, and the American people, will rise to this challenge." Dad's voice was filled with passion now, and the podium looked like a pulpit in my mind's eye. "Our leaders of the past decided to try to face this challenge alone, but we will not make that mistake. After much discussion we, the leaders here today, have reached an Agreement on how we will meet God's challenge together, and how we will pull each other out of the pit we find ourselves in today. Thank you and my God bless us all."

"As my American colleague stated," The British King started immediately, before there could be any reaction from those in attendance, "the people who made the decisions that brought us to our current situation are no longer with us, and we must let God and history judge them. Contemplating on the past, and refusing to let go of our anger, however justified, will not solve our problems today. American forces in Iraq remain in control of the southern ports and oil fields. Even as we speak, the British forces that were held captive are being released and their arms returned. Those forces will assist their American counterparts in defending those fields, and ports, and we shall, together, repair those facilities so that they may once again produce the oil our countries need to recover. Our ships at sea will help escort tankers to their designated destination, and we will assist America in its immediate recovery, with the understanding that they in turn will help us when they have reached a sufficient level of operations."

Each of the leaders pretty much reacted the same way, laying out specific actions their countries would take. There'd been several pitched battles between some of them as well, a fact I hadn't known. Those had focused on oil platforms located in the waters near all the countries, several of which had been severely damaged and now required extensive repairs. All in all, it sounded good to my ears. Instead of fighting, we'd be working together. When the conference ended, Genevieve used the remote to turn off the television, and I was shocked to find her staring at me with steely eyes, almost glinting with suppressed anger.

"They're interviewing your mother right now." She said.

"I'd like to see that." I stated and she shook her head. She was wearing an earpiece that connected her to the studio, and I looked at her closely. "Why not?"

"The studio wants your reaction to be as unbiased as we can get it." She said with a stern voice. I sat back in the chair and studied her closely. Her body was shaking slightly, and I realized she was very, very angry. If this was any indication of how other people were reacting, I knew that there would be trouble. It was probably dad accepting blame for what happened. No one liked to be told you bore some responsibility for killing millions of people.

"We're here live, in Boise, Idaho with Dylan Jacobs, oldest son of President Jacobs." She said aloud and I straightened a little, realizing we were now live. She hadn't even warned me! "Like our viewers, we have just finished listening to the un-elected President blame the American people for the nuclear destruction of their own cities. Mr. Jacobs, I, along with millions of Americans want to know why your father would accuse us of being mass murderers"

"For the same reason he accused me, my mother, my brother, and himself of being 'mass murders'." I spat back instantly, and her eyes widened. "What you didn't think that I, or my mother, or my dad were included in that statement? I can't even vote yet, but you better believe that I bear part of that responsibility. I've been studying political science and English while I've been out here doing other things. You know that because you were talking about how you were going to use that harass your son when he didn't want to go to school. You know what one of the things I've been learning is?"

"What?" She said after I was silent for a moment. She was looking a little surprised now.

"We've lived in a democracy for over two hundred years." I said. "In our country, our leaders aren't chosen by a secret cabal of people, we're not forced to vote for them at gunpoint, we're not given one candidate and one candidate alone to vote for. Quite literally, anyone who is thirty-five, and an America-born citizen can become President. Before you talk about money, that's just a hurdle the candidate has to cross, not a requirement. If a candidate could figure out a way to get enough people to vote for him or her without spending a dime, they can still be President. That's the way it works in our country. Whether they get votes by spending money on them or not, anyone who is the right age, a U.S. citizen and usually not a felon can get into office. All they have to do is want that and figure out a way to get other people to vote for them.

"When we vote, and especially when we don't vote, we are picking our leaders. People who don't vote are saying they'll take whatever government they get because they don't care or are too busy to bother worrying about it. People who vote and whose candidate loses are still heard because the elected official has to worry about that voter the next time they run for election. When our leaders do things we don't like we hold them accountable by not re-electing them, or if their behavior is bad enough either recalling them or having our other elected leaders impeach them. There's been dozens of congressional delegates impeached over the years and removed from office. Everyone always quotes Lincoln's speech where he said 'Government of the people, by the people, and for the people.' Listen to those words. 'of the people' That means that the government is made up from the people themselves. The people in office are human beings, and Americans, and come from all walks of life. 'For the People.' That means our government is meant to serve the people. 'By the People' Refers to the fact that it is we, through our voting or not voting, that choose who wins an election. A corporation can spend fifty million dollars on a candidate, and if the day before the election word breaks he's been bought off by the corporation, people can choose to vote for a competitor who spent a whole dollar on his campaign. The corporation wouldn't be able to sue anyone over its lost money either, because ultimately it is the single person who enters, or chooses not to enter, the ballot box that decides who wins an election. It is because we have a government 'by the people' that we are responsible for the actions of our leaders. If we didn't have a government 'by the people' we would not have part of the blame."

"But you can't vote yet, so you obviously aren't part of the blame like I am." Genevieve spat back instantly and I smiled.

"No, I can't vote yet, but in five, no wait, four years and a little more than a month, I will be able to vote." I said instantly. "But it is not my ability or inability to vote that incurs a share of the blame, it is the fact that I am an American, and proud still, even at this moment, to call myself an American. We as a country, governed by the people, for the people, and of the people, must accept what we have done right, and what we have done wrong as a people. Accepting our mistakes is often, and especially now, a bitter pill to swallow. But this promise I can make, that I will remember the lesson in this tragedy, and will exercise greater caution when I enter the ballot box on my eighteenth birthday. I will make sure that the man or woman I pick for any office in my country are men like my dad, who will stand up for what is right, who will lead this country with courage, honesty, and integrity, and who won't lead us down the path the last set of leaders did. People always said they wanted to see leaders who stood up, accepted responsibility when things went wrong, and who apologized. They said that leaders like that, they could be forgiven, and you know what, they're right. I accept my part of the blame for what has happened, and I vow that I will learn the lessons that can be learned from that experience. That is all I can do. That is what dad and those other leaders did there today. They said 'we messed up, we're sorry, here's what were doing to make things better'. What could be better than that? I'm sorry if you feel outraged about hearing that you bear part of the responsibility for what happened. I'm sorry that the people listening to me right now feel that way. The only thing I can say is that you shouldn't let it tear you apart. It is a painful lesson for us to learn, but we must learn it, or we might very well repeat the same mistake in the future. Hold your leaders to account for their actions. Make sure they know that if they lie to you, or lead us down the wrong path that you're going to hang them from the nearest tree. That includes my dad, because he is a leader. I'll tell you what, if I find out he's going in the direction the last President went, I'll get the rope for you and hold him steady while you put it around his neck. That's the lesson I learned from this whole mess. We're responsible for the people that lead us, and it's our job to make sure they know that."

"You'd hang your own dad?" Genevieve asked with surprise.

"Figuratively speaking of course." I said with a grin, and she actually laughed.