Father Doesn't Know Best
David J. Duncan
January 2002

(Rating R-fight scenes, violence, language)

Summary: When the Duboises host a couple of high school students on a
college
Visit, they get more than they bargain for.

Notes: The characters from "Forever Knight" belong to Sony Tri-Star.
The characters from "Xena Warrior Princess" belong to Renaissance
Studios and StudiosUSA.  The characters from "Mutant X" belong to
Tribune and Marvel Studios.  The characters from "Smallville" belong
to their copyright holders.  All other characters and scenarios are of
my creation and are fictitious.  Please send comments to
dante0220@yahoo.com.  Thanks to Dani and Stacy for help with Mutant X
details.  Thanks to Emily for the beta reading.

Prologue [Queen's Hut, Amazon Village 82 AD]

The battle between David and Dijon was over.  With the way he won his
victory, the prophecy of darkness seemed to be diverted at least for
the time being.  However, a familiar enemy brings trouble close to
home, introducing us to new allies and foes alike....

Chapter 1 [Hampshire County Jail, Northampton]

On the western outskirts of town, the county prison stood alone,
separated by a good few miles by wide-open spaces.  The building's
granite walls held minor felons: gang members, thieves, dope dealers
among others.  For some, it was a permanent stop, a "Hotel California"
of sorts.  For others, it was a transitory point while awaiting trial
and sentencing.

Watching the storm raging outside through the bars of his cell, Stuart
Dubois groused angrily at his situation.  How could he be here?
Didn't he want the best for his kids?  Just two weeks ago, he had
tried to drill some sense into his daughter, Cybelle, concerning her
obligations as a mother and wife.  Instead, she mouthed back to him
and used her freakish abilities, but he showed her.  After he had beat
some sense into her, her brother showed up, using his abilities as
well.  Somehow, he lifted the older man into the air, threw him
against the wall, and used some energy to deflect the bullets from his
gun.  As a final indignity, their FBI friend had him arrested and
tossed in here to rot.  "This is a fine situation," he groused
sarcastically.  "I wonder when I'll get out of here."

"Hey, shut your hole over there!" his cellmate, a blond haired wino,
complained.

Shaking his head in disgust, Dubois continued to stare out of the
window into the darkness of the night outside.  Then, he saw something
unusual.  A pair of headlights approached the facility and drove right
through the open gate.  "In two weeks, I've never seen that!" he
pondered to himself.  Still wondering who the visitors were, he sat on
his bunk and thought a while.

A half hour later, the door to the prison block swung open, allowing
the guard, a rather rude man by the name of McDermott, to proceed on
his usual rounds.  Usually, he made four or five sweeps per night
around the area, making sure that the prisoners behaved themselves.
Tonight, however, he stopped in front of this cell and indicated,
"Hey, Dubois!  Up and at 'em!"

"What?" the confused businessman wondered.  "What is it?"

"You must have a fairy godmother or somethin'," the guard shrugged.
"Your bail was just posted. Some guys are waitin' for ya."  Opening
the door, he allowed Dubois to follow him down the corridor and out of
the block.  Then, after allowing him to change into his regular
clothes and regain his possessions, the former prisoner was escorted
to the booking area.  There, three men in fine brown suits, ties, and
overcoats waited.

"Are you Stuart Dubois?" the leader, a sandy haired man, probed almost
robotically.

"That's me," he concurred.  "Are you the ones who set bail?  I owe you
my thanks."

"Don't thank us, Mr. Dubois," the second man, a red-haired, bulky
fellow, indicated.  "Our boss is waiting to see you concerning a
couple of unusual occurrences if you catch my meaning.  Sanderson?"
Without another word, he guided the surprised consultant through the
glass doors and into the waiting 4 X 4.

Sanderson, an African American, took off his sunglasses and stared
into the officers' eyes.  The latter stiffened and fell into a trance.
When they awoke, they would have no idea where Dubois went or who he
even was.  Having accomplished this feat, he walked out casually, got
into the vehicle with the others, and indicated, "It's done.  Let's
go."

The leader nodded and drove them away from the prison.  Following
Route 9, to Routes 91 and 90, they proceeded quickly toward their goal
over the New York state line.  Two and a half hours later, they
crossed that point and kept heading west.  Throughout this journey,
nobody had said a word.

"Excuse me?" Dubois asked.  "Might I ask where you're taking me?"

Red Hair turned to face him, assuring, "Don't worry, Sir.  We'll be
there in just a few minutes.  Have you heard of Geneomax?"

He shook his head.  There were lots of companies, which he had never
heard of.  Why was this one any different? Glancing out of the window,
he noticed that the sun was rising on the horizon and recognized the
Adirondacks around them.  

"It's a great place, Sir.  Our employer really cares about society,"
the leader stated methodically.  "But, you'll be meeting him soon
enough."

Just ahead, he saw a sprawling concrete facility taking up a slope
just ahead.  It appeared to be a treatment plant or a research
facility of some kind, but, deep down, he knew that it held a deeper
purpose.  As the vehicle entered the compound, he marveled at the
structure's complexity.  Whoever ran this place held a great deal of
authority that was for sure.

"Follow me," Sandy Hair directed.  With his guest right behind, the
two men maneuvered their way through the complex passageways
comprising the operational facility, heading for the main office.

****

In the main office, a lone man sat behind his desk, smoothing his
bright white hair, and adjusting the ascot he wore around his neck.
Maison Eckhardt wasn't a man who liked to be kept waiting for
anything.  Of late, his field operatives, the Genetic Security Agency,
or the "GSA", had failed to bring him results.  In this case, that
meant additional new mutants for study or utilization in the GSA.
However, his former associate, Adam, along with his band of mutant
outlaws, had made sport of his recent efforts, foiling him at every
turn.  

"Hopefully, Mr. Dubois will have some worthwhile information," he
thought, settling into a comfortable position.  One should always
project the right image, especially to a potential lackey. At that
moment, a buzz came from the intercom.  In response, he pressed an
orange button on the side of his desk, allowing the door to open.

His visitors walked in.  Dubois took a look around, examining every
facet of his host's base of operations before focusing his attention
on the man seated in front of him.  In silent admiration, he nodded,
sensing a kindred spirit in the man before him.

"Good Morning, Mr. Dubois," Eckhardt greeted.  "I'm Maison Eckhardt,
the director of this facility.  I trust your trip was a pleasant one?"

"It was.  Thanks to your men, Mr. Eckhardt," Dubois replied
pleasantly.  "And thanks to you as well.  You have my appreciation,
Sir."

The administrator smiled warmly.  At least, the man had a sense of
gratitude.  This might lead to something provided it could be properly
molded.  "You're quite welcome, Mr. Dubois.  Now, I was wondering if
you might share some information with me?"

"Information?" the contractor responded.  "That depends upon what you
want."

Eckhardt frowned.  Perhaps, this man might not be such an easy mark
after all.  Still, he pushed, "I was wondering about a story I heard
concerning the circumstances leading to your...unfortunate
incarceration.  From what I understand, your children beat on you."

The guest tensed angrily.  Would everyone taunt him with this
information?  "Yes, it's true.  They ganged up on me."

"Did they do anything unusual?" Eckhardt probed, straightening his
glasses.  Granted, he already suspected that the man's children were
mutants, but he wanted to hear it for himself.  "Don't worry, we only
want to help them."

"Yes," the angry visitor admitted.  "They had some sort of freakish
powers.  My daughter's disappeared, but my son's down in the
Southwest.  If you can help him, I'd be grateful."

The white haired man nodded reassuringly, "I think we can help him.
Don't worry about that, Mr. Dubois.  Meanwhile, why don't you go with
Mr. Slattery for some food and rest?  After a while, I'll let you know
if any progress is made."

After his visitor left the room, he entered the computerized database,
searching for items concerning the man's son.  It seemed that David
Dubois, the man in question, was a respected medieval history
professor with a healthy vita.  However, both he and his wife, Angela,
ended up in mysterious circumstances on a regular basis.  Scanning
news wire services, he was convinced that the academic was indeed a
possible mutant.

"Don't worry, Mr. Dubois.  I'll send my best after him indeed,"
Eckhardt promised to the spot where his guest had stood.  With that,
he rose and stared out the observation window toward the activity
below.  Yes, a new day was starting and already, it was proving
constructive.

***

[The Sanctuary, Jersey Coastline, Two Hours Earlier]

Within the concealed facility, everything was dark, and the five
residents lay asleep, resting for the new day's challenges.  For
Mutant X, this meant protecting the abnormal offspring of Geneomax's
genetic experiments.  During the past week, the team had foiled two
more attempts by Eckhardt to capture their cohorts.  Now, they were
hoping to lie low for a day and collect their thoughts.

Thrashing in her bed, the team's empath, Emma diLauro, couldn't sleep.
For the past week, her mind had been filled with strange dreams linked
to a man she didn't know.  She had felt his emotions rolling, his
anger surging like a gigantic tidal wave.  Three nights ago, there had
been a fight of some sort with monsters resembling vampires.  During
that conflict, she saw the man split in two as both light and dark
images of him fought the invaders.  Then, there was this dream.  Once
again, the mysterious man and his dark twin fought a vampire.  Again,
she felt the emotional bobbing, but this time, it was much more
severe.  Something hard fell on him.  He was hurting...no wait...there
was an inner burning.  Then, the darkness consumed him and he turned
on the other, reducing him to nothing in a furious tantrum of pure
spite and fury.  When the deed had been done, he screamed, releasing a
burst of dark energy in all directions.

"No!" she exclaimed fearfully, sitting up suddenly, her hands and
forehead drenched in sweat.  Her eyes were bulged open.

From the darkness next to her, a voice asked, "Emma?  Are you all
right?"

"Shalimar, I'm sorry," the frightened telepath shuddered.  "It
happened again."

"The guy with the split personality again, huh?" Shalimar Fox
inquired.  She also knew of these visions due to the fact that her
roommate talked in her sleep. A burst of anger rushed through the
feral mutant as she allowed her eyes to flash yellow.  Nobody hurt her
friends like this. 

"Now, he has his mind on someone else, not me.  Obviously, he has some
issues to deal with," Emma tried to defend the dream-man.

"Obviously," Shalimar muttered low.  Just then, a knocking came from
the door.  "Yeah?"

"Shalimar?  Emma?" Adam's voice called through the door.  "Is
everything all right in there?"

The feral cast her roommate a knowing glace.  Sooner or later, she
needed to tell him about her visions.  "Are you going to tell him?"
she asked.

Emma nodded and replied, "Adam, you know those weird reports on Proxy
Blue from yesterday?  I think I know something, but I'd hate to
disturb the guys this early."

"Don't worry," he chuckled in an effort to hide his unease.  "We've
all been sitting on pins and needles lately.  The sooner we get
Eckhardt's strategies unraveled, the sooner we can relax for a while. 
See you two in about 30 minutes." 

After he left, the two roommates rose from their beds and headed for
the showers.  It was going to be another long day.

Chapter 2

Jesse Kilmartin sat at the table in the midst of the Sanctuary's
living area, muddling over reasons why Adam would have rousted them so
early.  The chat boards and email lines had been full of stories
lately of weird things happening in Europe and the Middle East, but
the satellite hadn't picked up any abnormal activity in the area.
"Strange," he wondered, stretching and running his fingers through his
dirty blonde colored hair.  "This guy must be really good at covering
his tracks whoever he is."

"Not that good if you ask me," another male voice countered from the
floor above.  Brennan Mulray trudged his way down the stairs.  "If
he's allowing himself to get noticed like this."  Looking at the
coffee maker in the corner, he grinned, "You've got the grounds set
up, water in the thing, and it isn't going.  Let me guess, you want me
to start it, right?"

"This is a team effort, right?" his friend grinned.

The thin black haired man descended to ground level and shrugged, "You
just want me to do the dirty work.  Oh well, think fast!"  Rotating
his hands around each other, first sparks and then, full-blown
electrical current flowed between them.  After building up a
sufficient charge, he fired a bolt at his seated friend.

Jesse smiled and concentrated, turning himself intangible.  The bolt
phased through him, hitting the appliance, and starting the coffee
flow. 

"Not bad for early morning," Brennan yawned, joining the other at the
table.  "Still, it would've been nice having the coffee ready for me
and the others." 

The computer geek sighed.  

"Give him a break," Shalimar advised with a saucy smile on her face
for she enjoyed the bantering almost as much as they did.  Then,
putting on her most serious look, she added, "This is serious, guys."

"Did Emma have another vision?" the electrical mutant probed,
betraying a slight bit of concern.

"Oh yeah.  I'd say a full-blown nightmare," she affirmed.  "She woke
me up with it."

"Sorry about this, everyone," Emma apologized, walking into the room. 
Behind her, a black haired man with similar colored clothes and a
focused expression followed her into the room.

"Hey, this isn't your fault," Brennan assured her.

"Adam, what's going on?" Jesse asked.

Their leader turned to the panel behind him.  Pushing a few buttons,
he brought up a visual of some tests he had been running.  "I just ran
a diagnostic on Emma.  She's okay so that alleved my first thought.
Then, I noticed that the computer had picked up something on the Proxy
Blue broadcast last night."  Pressing still other buttons, he
commanded, "Replay file."

The computer screen turned blue with a pink square in the middle.
Within the square, a CGI image of a woman came into focus with fair
skin and black hair with a streak of white running through it.  As
usual, she had a hard frown on her face and recounted, "These days
keep getting weirder and weirder, I gotta tell you.  Yesterday, we had
two items for the record books.  First, for no apparent reason, the
whole waterfront area of Istanbul, Turkey was cordoned off to visitors
until just about three hours ago.  An eyewitness who snuck through the
barrier recounted a battle taking place between two men for most of
the night.  At least, they seemed like men at first.  According to the
witness, one changed into...get this...a vampire and threw a huge
chunk of masonry at the other guy, burying him in the rubble.
Somehow, the second guy survived and changed as well.  He became super
enraged, somehow blasted the vampire with his hands repeatedly,
driving him into the cobblestones.  Then, in an act of barbarity, he
staked the other over and over, leaving the sun to finish the defeated
vampire off."

The empath glanced amazedly at the screen, "That's him!  The man in my
vision!"

"Well, at least, we know something now," Jesse commented, plugging his
laptop into the dataport next to him.  Running his fingers over the
keyboard, he enlarged the image of the battle scene from the screen.
Simultaneously, he assessed the mutant database and patched the image
into it.  30 seconds of data crunching later, it came up empty.

"Try the regular news board," Adam suggested.

Upon doing so, the computer genius saw a string of files scroll across
the screen.  "Whoa!" he jumped back.

"Man, that's a bigger rap sheet than mine!" Brennan exclaimed. 

The oldest of the group, scratched his chin, watching the files run
across the screen.  "I actually looked at most of these accounts last
night.  Most of these stories pertain to defending himself although he
has a really bad tendency to attract trouble.  The later stories are
fuzzy.  There's something about the man that I can't put my finger on.
But, we cannot let anyone with that combination of ability and rage
fall into Eckhardt's hands.  Speaking of which, Jesse, can you start
the recording again?"

The density mutant nodded and let Proxy continue her speal.  

The image continued, "If things weren't strange enough, it seems that
justice isn't getting any better either.  Last night, a proven child
abuser, Stuart Dubois, disappeared from the Northampton County Jail.
While the guards weren't able to remember anything, the security
cameras caught three men in suits, overcoats, and shades escorting the
prisoner out of the facility.  If anyone knows anything, please feel
free to call the information hotline.  Keep your eyes and ears open.
Thanks."  With that, the recording ended.

"GSA," Emma muttered. "Terrific."

"So, Adam, where is this David Dubois guy exactly?" Shalimar inquired.

"According to the computer, he lives in Tucson, AZ where he teaches
medieval history and also has served as a librarian at the university
down there," he replied.

"Tucson?" Jesse asked.  "Isn't that where the cellular mutation
conference is going on next week?  You think you might be able to
speak with him at that point?"

"The thought crossed my mind," Adam indicated.  "His wife, Angela, is
going to be one of my co-panelists. Unfortunately, she's going to be
following Eckhardt and me at that session.  I want us all to be close
by the campus in case the GSA tries to grab her.  Meantime, let's get
ready to head down there.  I want to do some more training today."

The others groaned good-naturedly.  Those sessions could be harrowing,
but, given the forces conspiring against them, necessary for their
survival.

Chapter 3 [Tucson Two days later]

The sky over the Sonoran desert was just starting to light up with the
first rays of dawn. Inside of the Dubois household, everyone was
starting to stir for another day's living.  Since their return from
England, Dave and Angie had been relaxed.  He had finally wrestled the
300 lb. gorilla off of his back when he defeated Bertrand du Dijon,
the head of the vampire Enforcers, in Istanbul.  "Hopefully, we can
get back to normal now. I've had enough of monsters and angels for
quite a while," he muttered.

Then, he felt a pillow whack him in the head, followed by his wife's
giggling, "And what about me, tough guy?  Had enough of this angel,
hmm?"

"Never," he chuckled, kissing her ear, "C'mere!"  He playfully
wrestled her down to the mattress.  "I love you, Dr. Dubois, he
stating, kissing her again.

"And I you," she beamed.  "So, how are you going to try and kill
yourself this week?"

"I thought we'd take some time off from that kind of stuff," he
shrugged.

"Oh really?" she cracked.  "My husband's going to play it safe?  This
I have to see!"

"Hey, I'm still beat from the fight with Dijon," he complained,
pointing to his wrapped midsection.  

"We have some time yet before we really have to get up," she smiled.
"I could take a look at it...."

He grinned and kissed her a third time.  This was the best they had
felt in a long, long time.

****

The drive across town to the U of A went really quickly.  After
dropping Angie off at the UMC, Dave parked by the Main Library and,
accompanied by Eve and Francesca, headed for that facility.

"What are you going to say to Caitlin?" Eve asked.

"I don't know.  I'm going to let her do the talking," he shrugged.
"She understands why we went there and what we had to attend to.
Period."

"Well, we've got classes to teach," his cousin stated.  "If you need
to talk later, Dave, we're here."

"Absolutely," the Religion professor indicated.  "Please stop by after
your classes if you'd like."

"Thanks," he expressed and walked into the library.  Walking by the
circulation desk and up the stairs, the professor proceeded past his
part-time colleagues down to the Dean's office.  He walked into the
lobby where Mary-Sue McAllister waved to him.

"David?" the secretary asked.  "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay.  The trip was something else, but hey, it's time to get
back to the grind," he shrugged good-naturedly.

"Great.  Caitlin's waiting to see you if you'd like to talk with her,"
she indicated.

"Sounds good," he agreed.

She buzzed the intercom.  Immediately, the inner door opened and
Caitlin walked out.  "David, I was glad to hear you're back.  How are
you doing?"

"I survived," he shrugged. 

"And Dijon?"

"A pile of ash scattered across the Middle East," he noted.  From his
bag, he produced a finely polished pewter urn.  "Here are some of them
right here." Seeing her nervousness, he apologized, "Sorry, Caitlin, I
didn't come here to brag.  I just wanted to prove he's gone.  He's
gone...."  His eyes began to water.

The dean hugged her associate and soothed, "It's okay.  The demon had
tried to kill you for fifteen years.  You just need to move on.
Continue being a great father, professor, librarian, and man.  We're
all so proud of you, but...."

He squinted at her in confusion, "But what?"

"Your flourish at the end of the battle grabbed some attention.  I
thought you had indicated that the face-off would be kept away from
the cameras," she told him.

He gaped, "According to what I heard, it was supposed to be.  What?
Who?"

"Somebody snuck through the cordon and gave an account that's been all
over the newsnets for the past two days.  Fortunately, Lydia's been
explaining to me and to some other high powered folks around here what
she saw," she reported.

He winced and grumbled, "Some security.  If the remaining Enforcers
weren't on edge already, now they'll really be pushing things.  I put
that little show on for them to let them know what would happen if
they came after me or anyone else that I cared about.  I'll need to
check with Lydia.  By the way, where's the manuscript?"

"In the safe where I promised it would be," she smiled.  "David, I
wish that you could have a normal life, but these things keep popping
up."

"Maybe if the folks from the Orientation Office would call me about
helping out with the student tours, I might be able to do something to
get my mind off of this mess?" he interjected.

She nodded.  Fifteen years earlier, he had been an award winning peer
advisor for the freshman tour center on campus.  Maybe, he was right,
and perhaps, the items in the folder might be just what the doctor
ordered.  "Actually, I did get a call from them about you this
morning.  What would you think about showing a couple of student
journalists/potential recruits around for a couple of days?  They're
from Kansas and get this; their assignment deals with the medical
conference coming up in three days.  However, they're both into
History and the Humanities.  When Dean Armas asked me who I felt we
should give them to, I recommended you.  He agreed.  Well?"

"Sure, if they wouldn't mind hearing a couple of my lectures not to
mention one apiece from Eve and Francesca.  I figure we can get them
into the classroom mix, give them a sample of what to expect, and
then, take them out for a good meal," he proposed.

"That was what you originally suggested.  The administration loves the
small town atmosphere in the big time university angle.  Then, it's
settled.  They're coming in on Thursday morning.  Would you mind
picking them up at the airport?" she confirmed.

"Absolutely.  Angie'll need the quiet time to prep for her talk.
Meantime, I'll pick up..." he started.

"Clark Kent and Lana Lang," she completed his thought, handing him the
files.

"Sounds great," he agreed.  "Do you need me to do anything?"

"Thanks, but we've already taken care of it.  They'll be here at 9:00
on Thursday morning, okay?" Caitlin concluded.

"Sure," he replied pleasantly.  "Well, I've got a class coming up in
an hour, so I have to run.  Thanks again, Caitlin.  I appreciate
this."  

"Anytime," she noted, returning to her work.

He walked out of the door, left the library, and headed for the Social
Sciences Building and his class.


****

That night, before Dave went home, he walked out of his office, and
headed toward the plaque located just behind the Douglass Building.
Once there, he dusted off the metal sheet bearing the name of his
mentor and the former's wife, and placed a flower in front of it.

"Hi," he stated.  "It's me, David.  As I'm sure you know, I took care
of business in Istanbul.  Dijon will never trouble anybody ever again,
but I still feel empty.  I miss you two and your guidance.  Hopefully,
I can be there for other students the way you were for me."

"Nice speech," Lydia complemented as she approached him.  

"Thanks," he replied pleasantly.  "For that and for helping out with
the administration around here."

"Marie and I are still putting together the facts behind what we saw,"
the Middle Eastern scholar told him.  "I knew about your powers and
your other personality.  I've seen you unleash him before in class,
but never like that."

"That's because I'm sick of being hunted, Lydia," he commented.  "I
sent them a message.  Besides, he killed another important person too
in Pauline.  Her murder needed to be accounted for as well."

"If you say so," she sighed in confusion.  "Sometime, you'll need to
tell me the whole story, okay?  Don't worry; your secret's still safe.
The administration figures some crackpot put you in the middle of that
battle.  Well, I need to be getting on to Mass.  I'll see you soon,
huh?"

"Sure," he nodded, waving as she left, leaving him to inspect the
memorial and head toward the car across campus.

Chapter 4

Across town at KRAN, LaCroix strolled into the booth and performed a
sound check.  With his duties as an Elder occupying his time, the
Roman had neglected his audience over the past ten days.  However,
everything was solved, and he could return to his affairs at least for
the present.  Flipping a switch, he started into his monologue.

"Good Evening, Gentle Listeners.  It is I, the Nightcrawler, who has
returned from a dark sojourn to you all.  I trust you were all very
observant in my absence.  I know I was, and I missed you all, but when
duty calls, one must listen.  My children needed me to settle a
dispute of sorts, and so, I did," he started.  

An unpleasant snort came from outside of the booth.  

While mortal ears wouldn't have been able to pick up on it, the Elder
caught it quite well.  Turning, he saw David Dubois standing there,
staring intensely at him.  Scowling in disgust, he continued, "In
fact, it's such a pleasant night outside, why don't you all go outside
for a few minutes?  I'll be right back.  I promise."  Muting the
microphone, he removed his earphones, and stood to his full height.
Opening the door, he asked, "And what do you want?"

"Believe me, it wasn't the displeasure of your company," the professor
declared, folding his arms across his chest.  "We have a problem."

That statement got LaCroix's attention.  "A problem you say?  And what
pray tell is that?" he baited.

Dubois chuckled darkly, "Didn't my little object lesson register on
you at all?"  Leaning closely to the vampire's face, he glared right
into the other's eyes, and snarled, "You're an annoyance.  And with
your latest little screw up, you might've endangered us all."

"Latest screw up?" the DJ asked.

"Yes, I thought the duel was supposed to be kept secret, LaCroix," the
visitor noted.

"It was."

"So, why has it been all over the Internet chatboards for the past two
days then?  With images and everything?" Dave pushed, dropping a zip
disc on the console in front of his adversary.  "Go ahead.  Look at
it."

LaCroix shook his head derisively.  The mortal was pushing his luck
badly.  Nobody marched into his domain with such impunity.  Still, he
knew that the medievalist would never show up like this unless he had
a good reason.  Installing the disc and opening the files, the Proxy
Blue playback appeared on his computer screen.  For five minutes, the
CGI image babbled about the mysterious battle and displayed grainy
images of the contest.  "Impossible.  Yet, here it is."

"Sure is," Dave sighed.  "So, what do we do about it?  They know about
it at the U of A.  You've put the Community at risk."

"As if you care," the DJ scoffed, drinking from the bloodwine.

"I do.  I care about Janette, Nick, Alyce, Vachon, and the other
immortals under your watch.  Now, answer my question, Old Man," the
professor insisted.

For a moment, the vampire's eyes went yellow and his fangs descended. 
"Don't you dare address me in that manner!  I don't care who you are,
Dubois!"

The mortal laughed and produced a bright orange colored ball, "You
should care.  As if I would come in here unprepared.  As for your
tirade, I give it 1 1/2 stars.  Now, answer the question!"

"I will have to consult with my colleagues," the DJ commented.  "Now,
will you get out of my booth?"

"Why not?" Dave shrugged.  "Have a good show spreading whatever crap
you got up your sleeve tonight."  With that, he left the studio and
drove away.

For a long minute, LaCroix shook with rage.  Nobody talks to him like
that!  No one.  "There will come a time, Dubois," he vowed.  Taking
another draught from the glass, he watched the program again.  While
the professor was annoying, he did reveal the security breach.
Accordingly, Constantine would receive a stern lecture at the next
opportunity concerning this issue.

However, as the program ran on, the vampire DJ noted something else,
which his impertinent visitor didn't see.  Somehow, his father had
escaped prison.  "Interesting," the master vampire chuckled.  "This
could have a great deal of potential.  A great deal indeed."

****

Nick pulled the Caddy into a parking spot behind the precinct
building.  It had been over a week since his last shift.  Accordingly,
he knew Ramirez would have several cases waiting for him as soon as he
got to his desk.  "Might as well go face the music," he sighed and
walked into the bullpen.

As soon as he had cleared the doors, Chris Novak cleared her throat
and greeted, "Good evening, Detective."

"Sergeant," he replied pleasantly.  "What can I do for you?"

"Relax," she smiled.  "I was just saying hello.  The captain will want
to talk with you later, but, as far as I know, everything's okay.
Detectives Brown and Schanke held the fort while you were gone."

He grinned in relief and kept heading for his desk.  Sure enough, a
few folders were waiting for him there.  Also glancing at him
expectantly, Tracy twiddled a pencil in the air.  "Tracy, how's
everything?" he asked.

"Great," she noted.  "We solved about three cases while you were
traveling.  Other than that, life was pretty much the same as always. 
Has everything been resolved?"

"Dave took care of business," he revealed in a low voice.  "But he
ticked off LaCroix in the process."  

She winced. "That's not healthy."

"Tell me about it," he concurred, shaking his head.

"Well, Vachon and Janette kept everything in order here," she
commented.  "Nothing stirred due to LaCroix's directive."

"I can imagine," he agreed.  From long experience, he knew that
defying the Elder meant a painful death.  At some point, he would
remind his academic friend of that.

At that moment, Ramirez stuck his head out of the office, bellowing,
"Brown!  Miles!  Get down to 36th and Campbell.  We just received a
tip!  Schanke and Dr. LeBeau are both en route."

As one, the partners stood and rushed out to the Caddy.  Punching the
accelerator, Nick drove them toward the scene.

****

Fifteen minutes later, Natalie squatted on the pavement next to the
homicide victim.  From what she could tell, the woman, an African-
American in her early twenties, was stabbed from behind.  In addition,
she noticed a fresh scar on the back of her neck along the spinal
cord.  Something had been there, but had been ripped out in a hurry.
Scribbling notes to herself for the autopsy, the ME took in every
detail.

"It seems pretty open and shut, Natalie," Schanke indicated, looking
about the dark alleyway.  Despite the fact that the area was bathed in
siren lights and surrounded with their colleagues, the souvlaki-loving
detective felt nervous for some reason.  Something wasn't right here. 
"What is that along the neck?"

"A scar of some kind, Schank," she replied.  "I won't know anything
until I can get her back to the lab."   She noticed the Caddy's
arrival, stating, "Here are your partners now.  Maybe, you guys can
find something to help me.  If you need me, I'll be at the lab."

Schanke studied her face carefully.  While he knew that she and Nick
were having problems, he didn't know things were so bad that she
wanted to get away from him.  Despite her earlier protests, he decided
to talk with his immortal partner at the first opportunity.  "Sure,"
he agreed.

She nodded, hurrying past the two newly arrived detectives, and
silently getting into her car.  Driving away, she wanted to put as
much distance between her and Nick as possible. Despite her successful
relationship with Steve Petersen, being around the vampire detective
was proving harder than she initially thought.

*** 

Back at the scene, Tracy quizzed the others, "What was that about?"

"I'd like to know as well," Schanke chimed in.  "Nick?"

"I don't know.  She and I are sorting out some details," he shrugged. 


" 'Sorting out some details'?" the blonde detective probed. "C'mon,
Nick.  From the way Natalie just reacted, I'd say she's giving Humpty
Dumpty a run for his money right now."

The former Crusader gritted his teeth and turned to his two
colleagues.  "We're working things out, okay?  Leave it alone!  Let's
focus on the case.  Is there anything in the alley of interest?"

His mortal partners relented, sensing that he was getting too testy at
the moment.

Schanke started, "We're still doing a sweep of the area.  Forensics
has nada so far."

Nick nodded, focusing on his surroundings.  Scanning the alley with
his enhanced senses, he spied something at the area's far end.  "Be
right back."  Rushing to the spot, he stooped over a storm grate.
After looking about to insure that nobody was watching, he pried it
loose and looked below.  There, he found a bloody blade, a torn,
bloody leather glove, and a half of a black plastic disk resembling a
small hockey puck.  "Best bag this stuff for later," he decided.
After securing the materials, he rejoined the others.

"Find anything?" Tracy probed.

"Maybe," he indicated, holding up the bagged materials.  "Hopefully,
Nat can get a match on this knife and the glove.  The plastic thing
was with it.  I bagged it just in case."

"Careful, Pardner," Schanke chuckled.  "Remember what you stuck me
with during the Weiss case?  It might be a piece of a kid's toy."

"I'll keep that in mind," Nick replied flatly, a frown noticeably
cutting off any further discussion.  "I didn't find anything else down
there, so let's get this evidence back to the precinct."

His associates nodded, following him back out of the alley toward the
Caddy and Schanke's parked stationwagon.

Although it looked like another slashing, this case bothered Nick for
some reason.  Given everything else, which had happened lately, he
knew better than to ignore his instincts.  "So much for a quiet shift
back," he sighed as he and Tracy pulled away from the scene.

Chapter 5

Dave pulled the Subaru into the space beside Angie's Taurus and shut
the engine down.  In his mind, he puzzled over why everything needed
to be so difficult.  Reaching into his satchel, he took out his
duplicate copy of the zip disc he had left with LaCroix.  "Why can't
people mind their own business?" he groused, getting out of the car
and walking up to his front door.

Just as he got there, Eve opened it and greeted, "Hi, David.
Francesca's just putting dinner on the table.  Nice timing."

"I know," he replied with a bit of guilt, hoping that his side trip
hadn't kept everyone waiting for too long.  After entering the
apartment, he hung up his coat, and made his way to the kitchen where
his wife and cousin were watching him.  Karen and Lauren stared at him
with big eyes.  They all knew that he had something else on his mind.

"Hi, Princess," he greeted, kissing his wife on the cheek.  "How'd
your day go?"

"Okay," she responded matter of factly.  "Dr. F. was still concerned
about the trip.  By the way, Dave, we've got a problem I'd like to
talk to you about."

Taking the disc out of his pocket, he waved it about, stating, "I
already know.  Caitlin made this copy of the Internet broadcast.  Some
show called Proxy Blue picked up on my tete a tete with Dijon."

"I thought the area was closed off," Francesca pushed, setting the
ziti on the table.

"So did I," Eve wondered.  "What happened?"

"Apparently, somebody cracked LaCroix's security net, took pictures
with a digital camera, and spliced the footage into a movie format,"
he theorized, removing the diced cucumber and bell pepper mixture from
the refrigerator, and adding olive oil, wine vinegar, and spices.
"Anyhow, the folks at the U of A know about it."

"So, where have you been?  I was worried someone was harassing you,"
Angie expressed.

"Checking on the quality of the security," he shrugged, sitting down
and pouring himself a glass of soda.  "He didn't even know about it.
Twit."

The women all looked at each other in total amazement.  Finally, his
wife threw him a stern glare, lecturing, "You mean you went down to
that radio station and deliberately provoked LaCroix?"

He returned her glance with one of his own.  "I needed to get to the
bottom of it.  Besides, he was the one who was spitting at me like an
angry Siamese cat.  I just pointed out what his fledgling did wrong.
He needed to know about it."

"And did he challenge you?" the Amazon princess asked.

"No, although he did make his customary threats to my health and
welfare," the medievalist deadpanned, sipping on his drink.  "We can
talk more about this later if you want," he added, throwing the twins
a glance.  "Besides, there was some good news out of today."

"Really?" Francesca asked. "What is it?"

"Remember when I put in for the Faculty mentoring program?" he asked.

"Yes.  Oh, Dave!  Did they pick you?" Angie exclaimed happily.  She
knew he'd been waiting for this opportunity since they started in
their current positions.

"Uh huh.  Apparently, there are a couple of kids coming here from
Kansas for a double purpose trip.  They're here on assignment for
their school newspaper to cover your conference, Angie.  However,
they've applied here for next Fall and they want to sit in on a few
classes in the Humanities.  I figured that they can sample one from
each of us, if that's okay with Francesca and Eve," he explained.
Turning to the other ladies, he asked, "What do you think?"

"I don't have a problem with it," Francesca agreed.

"Nor do I," Eve indicated.  "When is this going to happen?"

"Thursday or Friday morning," Dave explained, spooning out salad to
everyone.  "According to Caitlin, the kids are set to arrive about
9:00 on Thursday morning.  I'm going to pick them up and usher them up
to the U of A.  Once there, I'll see what they want to do.  What time
is your session at?"

"2:30.  You should have plenty of time," his wife indicated, ladeling
up pasta.  "And, of course, please let them know that they're welcome
to come here afterwards."

"Absolutely," he agreed, biting into a forkful of pasta himself.
"Mmm, magnifique!"

"Thank you," his cousin smiled warmly.  "It's nice to know I'm
appreciated.  My students looked as if they were ready to doze off in
my lecture this morning."

"Funny, I don't seem to have that problem.  I must have great
students," Eve wondered.

"Or perhaps, it has something to do with you being the former
Messenger of Eli," he teased.  "Powers of conversion and persuasion
provide music to soothe the savage beasts."

"I'll take that as a complement," the former Messenger retorted,
sipping on her lemonade.  "You might have something there, David.
Then again, I've seen you with your students.  You have a mixed bag,
don't you?"

"Yeah.  I'm going to take the kids to my upper division class.  The
World Civ. kids are just too crass and rude to make a good
impression," the medievalist noted.  "Speaking of the latter, I'm
sending them over to the library to work on their papers during
Thursday's session.  Winnie offered to help them out with research
questions.  Since Caitlin's after her to get more reference practice,
I figure this is as good a time as any."

"Sounds good," Francesca agreed.  "And you know you have our
instructional classes next week, right?"

"Yes," he agreed, biting into his ziti.

"By the way, who are these kids?" Angie asked.

"Their names are Clark Kent and Lana Lang.  According to the file,
they seem like really bright students and are very interested in the
university," he said.

"I'm sure," his wife nodded.  "I'll be sure to let Dr. F. know to keep
a couple of seats open for you as well as for Clark and Lana."

"Thanks, Princess.  You know I would never miss one of your papers,"
he smiled.

"I know," she beamed.  "And I'll appreciate the moral support.  With
all of our recent travels, I haven't been keeping up as much as I
should on my own research.  Hopefully, I can do as well as Drs.
Eckhardt and Zero."

"I'm sure you will," Eve assured her.  "Worrying about it won't get
you anywhere."

"Besides, you have us to cheer you on.  What's the worst that can
happen?" he inquired.

Just then, a knock came from the door. Dave got up to answer it and
sensed Steve Petersen on the other side.  "Come in, Steve."
Concentrating, he used his powers to open the door.

"Thanks, Dubie," the FBI agent sighed, walking slowly into the
apartment, and hanging up his coat.

"Steve, what's wrong?" Angie asked, noticing their friend's somber
expression.

"I don't want to ruin your dinner.  It can wait for an hour," the
visitor indicated.

Dave folded his arms across his chest and studied the other man.  He
knew when something was eating the agent.  "C'mon, Steve.  Spill it."

The agent looked at his hosts anxiously, requesting, "Please stay
calm, everyone.  I got some bad news when I got into work this
morning.  Dave, your father escaped from jail.  They don't know where
he is."

The history professor glared at the other man, "What?  I thought that
they were going to put him away!  What the heck happened?"

"Apparently, someone paid his bail.  Anyhow, as soon as he got out, he
hopped in a car and nobody has seen him since.  The plates were from
New York State," he revealed.

"And I trust you ran a check on the plate number?" Dave inquired.

"We did, but came up empty.  Apparently, it was a government car, but
the specific agency wasn't listed."

"What would they want with your father?" Eve wondered.

"Know of any anti-mutant groups within Congress?" the medievalist
replied.

"With the sentiment growing in that body, quite a few actually.
There's a rumor concerning a top-secret research facility dealing with
that issue.  I'm still checking on it," Steve reported.  Just then,
his phone rang, "Petersen here."

"Steve, it's Natalie.  We have an unusual case here.  How soon can you
get to the precinct?" the ME requested.

"I'm at Dave and Angie's right now.  Is 20 minutes okay?" he answered.

"Why don't you bring them?  This will concern them as well," she
noted.

"They were just sitting down to dinner, Natalie.  I'd hate to disturb
them," he doubted.
Noticing Angie signaling for the phone, he handed it to her.

"Hi, Natalie.  This is Angie.  What's up?" the oncologist inquired.

"I was just telling Steve that we brought in an unusual body from a
murder scene tonight.  Trust me, you and Dave will want to see this.
Besides, I'll need your help in cross checking something from it," the
coroner indicated.

"We'll be right there," she sighed.  "Let us get a plate of ziti down
and we'll leave in about 5 minutes."

For his part, her husband had already wolfed down his dinner.  Given
everything else, which had happened lately, this situation wouldn't
wait.

"Okay," Natalie agreed.  "See you then.  I'll let Chris Novak know."

Handing the phone back to Steve, she packaged a plate to eat on the
way.  "Dave, would you mind driving?" she asked.

"Not at all," he agreed.  "Let's go. Eve, we'll be back ASAP."

"Right," she concurred.  "I'll get them put to bed."

After giving the twins a kiss apiece, the two parents climbed into the
Subaru and sped westward followed closely be Steve in his own car.

"What do you suppose is going on?" she inquired, between mouthfuls of
lukewarm pasta.

"I suppose we'll find out soon enough," he indicated, albeit more
securely than he felt at the moment.

Chapter 6

Meantime, Nick and Tracy were on their way back from the homicide
scene.  The drive had been a silent one as both partners were sorting
through their own thoughts.  

To break the silence, he put the radio on, allowing LaCroix's voice to
permeate the night.

"Ah yes, Gentle Listeners," the Elder began.  "Since it's a school
night, tonight's lesson is not to trust sensitive matters to anyone
other than yourself.  On two occasions, I have done so.  Both times,
the task was bungled badly.  I have talked with you all about the
miserable child's tantrum years ago.  Recently, I had charged another
with securing privacy for a rather sensitive affair.  Unfortunately,
one person made it through my preparations.  Whoever you are, you
should have minded your own business.  After the rather unpleasant
visit I received earlier tonight, I discovered the situation.  Did you
ever trust someone with a task very important to you only to see it
mishandled?  The lines are open...."

Tracy turned to Nick and asked, "What's he talking about?"

He thought about his former master's words for a minute before
answering, "He's obviously referring to Dave.  The tantrum was the
first battle with the Enforcers.  The 'sensitive matter' concerns the
duel.  Someone must have gotten through Constantine's cordon and
recorded the whole affair."

"And let me guess, the visitor was Dave as well?" she theorized.

"Judging from his tone, I'd say so," he replied.  

"That's a rather gutsy move, even for him," she shivered.  

"Especially given LaCroix's attitude toward him right now," he
acknowledged.  "They declared mutual war on each other.  Given Dave's
outlook, I don't think he really cares if LaCroix threatens him."

"Yeesh!" she winced.  "If those two go at it, I suppose that means
Xena gets involved too?"

"Along with Cybelle," he informed her.  "We need to keep them from
confronting each other."

"So what exactly happened in Istanbul?  I have to admit your intruder
shot some interesting footage, but it wasn't clear," she told him.

Turning into an empty lot, he hit the brakes, screeching the Caddy to
a halt.  "What footage?  Tracy, what's going on?"

"You don't know?" she queried.  Then, judging by the shock on his
face, she continued, "No, I guess not. Well, since the day after the
grudge match, there's been a video piece circulating throughout the
chat rooms on the Internet."

"Damn!" he hissed, his eyes turning yellow.  "If that's true, the
whole Community's at risk!"
Dialing the car phone, he looked for answers.

"This is the Nightcrawler.  Speak, Child," LaCroix replied, a smile
growing on his lips after realizing whom it was on the other end.

"Umm, yes.  I was wondering to what you were referring just now," Nick
inquired.

"Answers aren't free, my Boy.  You should know that," the DJ toyed
with him, clearly enjoying the moment.  "But, since this concerns all
of my children, I'll tell you.  Ask the Child if he'll spare you a
copy.  Now, I have to get back to my other listeners.  Please feel
free to stop by later if you wish."

Nick hung up as well, shaking his head in silent confusion.

"Earth to Nick, Earth to Nick.  Excuse me, there's static on the
line," his partner interjected.

"Huh?" he asked.

"I'm still looking for an answer to my question about Dave Dubois."

"He managed to fight Dijon for the most part.  His dark side emerged
after the rubble fell on him," he recounted.

"Yeah," she shuddered.  "And just as with Divia, Dijon was blasted
into oblivion.  Remind me not to tick him off to badly."

"Right," he nodded, pulling out of the lot and resuming their drive to
the precinct.  He needed answers, and that was the place to find them.

****

Natalie gazed into the microscope once more.  While the woman on her
examination table looked normal, her blood was doing something
unusual.  Despite the fact that a DNA analysis still needed to be
done, her work with Nick's condition had prepped her to recognize
other irregularities.

At that moment, a knock came from the door and Doug White, a
patrolman, stuck his head into the room.  "Excuse me, Dr. LeBeau?
Agent Petersen and the Duboises are here to see you."

"Thanks, Doug," she accepted. "Come in, guys, and close the door."

Steve walked over to her side and kissed her cheek.  "Hey, what's up?"

"There's something odd about this case," the coroner asserted.
"Angie, take a look at the sample, would you?"

"Okay," she agreed and did so.  Looking up from the microscope, she
asked, "I know it's been a few years since med school, but since when
do humans have a chromosomes doing that?"

"They don't usually," the ME indicated.  "Unless they're like you and
Dave."

"This woman had special powers?" Dave asked.

"I can't say one way or the other," Natalie continued.  "Only that she
was extra special.  I'm waiting for Nick and Tracy to get back here
with some evidence from the scene.  Between that and the skin samples
I took from underneath her fingernails, I'm hoping for a match."

He glanced at the other two women anxiously.  "What's it now, open
season on people like us?  It never seems to end," he muttered.

"You can say that again," his wife concurred grimly.  "I hope we can
get to the bottom of this before any more killings happen."

He nodded knowingly.  "Any chance of getting the FBI involved?"

"I don't think you want them to get into this.  At least not yet," the
agent disagreed.  "Let's try to do this on our own first."

"Then, let's hope the evidence which Nick, Tracy, and Schanke are
bringing with them fingers the murderer," the professor added.

"You can say that again," Nick added, walking into the room.  "Did you
find anything, Nat?"

"Yeah, I managed to get some skin under the fingernails," the coroner
indicated.  "Hopefully, I can get some blood from that stuff you
brought back."

"Whether it's from the murderer, the victim, or both," Tracy stated,
dropping the bag on the table next to the corpse.  "I don't want
another uprising like that racial debate."

"Speaking of an uprising," the vampire added.  "What were you doing,
Dave?  Confronting LaCroix earlier tonight?"

"Here we go again," Dave muttered, shaking his head.  "I've already
received this lecture tonight, Nick."

"Well, I'm going to give it to you again," the detective continued.
"What were you doing?  You know LaCroix wants to kill you.  So you go
into the radio station and interrupt his show?  Just to bait him?"

"Well, maybe...just maybe, if your little brother didn't screw up his
job, the trip wouldn't have been necessary.  Because of that, more
than a few people whom I didn't want to know about me now do.
Besides, I'm not afraid of that sleaze," the professor snapped.

"You should be more respectful of him," Natalie added, typing away on
the computer keyboard.

"Look," Dave hissed.  "I know who and what he is!  But that doesn't
mean I have to cower before him!"

"I give up," Angie shrugged.

"Careful, Chief," Steve advised.  "This isn't your father you're
dealing with."

"I know that!" the professor roared, his darkness starting to
percolate toward the surface.  "But, LaCroix's been after my ass since
that night in the lecture hall!  Almost fifteen years, Steve!  Fifteen
damn years of living with this shadow over my head!  You weren't there
when we met up again at the Raven."  He hesitated for a second,
shivering fiercely, and getting nervous glances from those around him.
"I want him dead.  He was the one who sicced Dijon and the Enforcers
on the Samuelsohns and ultimately, on me!  I'm sick of his bullshit!
No more!  NO...MORE!!!"

His former classmate grabbed his arm, warning,  "You're mortal, you
know.  He's not."

"I know a few stakes which might disagree with that point," the
medievalist disagreed.  "Besides, I think others might have issues
with him as well."

"She would tell you to be strategic," his wife argued.  "A frontal
assault isn't always the best way."

"We may have other problems right now," Natalie broke in while looking
into the microscope.  

"What did you find?" Schanke asked, walking into the room.

"I just typed the blood on the coat.  They're both O negative," the ME
reported.  "The chromosome count matches as well from what I can tell.
Guys, I think what Dave said is true.  It's open season on you.  All
of you."

Everyone stood where they were, shaking their heads sadly.  When one
fought the good fight, he or she was a target constantly.  Dealing
with that realization took some time, but, if one was to survive, then
the knowledge needed to be accepted.  For that, everyone noted that
Dave was right in his directness.  However, everyone also knew that
Angie was right in that some strategy was needed as well.  Finding the
compromise was crucial for the future.

Chapter 7 [Geneomax]

Eckhardt reclined in his chair, studying his notes.  When he received
the invitation to speak on cellular anomalies at the cellular
conference in Arizona, the prospect was less than tempting at first.
Then, upon hearing that Adam would be speaking as well, he changed his
mind.  It would be so entertaining to have the opportunity to sway
public opinion by implanting the seeds of doubt in the audience's
minds.  Yes, to see his former geneticist's hopes crushed would be a
great triumph indeed.

A buzz came from the door.  Opening it, he discovered two field
agents, a man and a woman, whom he had sent after a new mutant named
Alicia Fallone.  "Yes?  I see you have returned," he stated.

The man stepped forward.  "Yes, Mr. Eckhardt.  We..didn't get the
Fallone woman."

"She struggled and attracted attention," his female colleague
continued.  "As we went to put the governor on her, it broke off.  We
tried to subdue her, Sir, but we leaned on her a bit hard.  She's
dead."

The administrator frowned.  The woman's abilities would have made her
a valuable GSA agent.   "Did you bring her back for study at least?"
His eyes were burning into the two subordinates' consciousness.

"No.  The police were right on top of us.  We barely got out of
there," the man stated.  

"I see," their boss shrugged, picking up two remote controls and
depressing a button on each one.  

Instantly, the two agents were rolling on the floor, writhing in pain.
For two minutes, Eckhardt allowed this dance to continue.  He abhorred
failure like this, especially when such errors left his organization
open to public exposure.  After he was satisfied, he switched the
controls off again, allowing the agents to recover.  Subdermal
governors had their advantages.

"Get ready to depart tomorrow.  You're accompanying me back to Arizona
along with Mr. Brown," Eckhardt warned.  "And I will not tolerate any
more excuses."

"Yes, Sir," the two chorused and departed from the room, rubbing the
back of their necks where the small plastic devices rested.

Eckhardt sighed impatiently.  Good help was so hard to find these
days.  At least, his guest was being cooperative and providing a great
deal of information concerning the Dubois mutants.  "A man who would
betray his firstborn.  Amazing," he remarked curiously.  "Still, one
doesn't need to look a gift horse in the mouth."

At that moment, the door buzzed again. "Yes?" he asked.

"Mr. Eckhardt, it's Stuart Dubois.  I know you're busy, but might I
have a minute?" Dubois requested.

"Absolutely, Mr. Dubois," the host agreed, opening the door.  "I was
going to send for you in any event.  I have news.  We're taking a trip
to Arizona tomorrow.  I trust that you're ready."

"I am," he grinned enthusiastically.  Seeing his son get what was
coming to him would make everything worth it.

"Really?  I wonder if you realize the implications of betraying
family," Eckhardt started.  "Awful business."

The consultant glared at the white haired man in front of him.  "What?
Are you chickening out?"

The administrator straightened himself and retorted plainly, "I would
thank you not to address me in that way!  I'll go after your son and
daughter-in-law as I said I would!"

Dubois backpedaled quickly, "Of course.  My apologies."

"Yes.  Well, we all want these freaks off of the streets, but still,
we must keep our passions in check, Mr. Dubois.  Letting them get out
of hand could have...great consequences," Eckhardt warned cryptically
yet allowing his meaning to shine through.

The guest nodded, "I'll be ready first thing tomorrow.  About 6:00?"

"That will be fine.  Good evening, Mr. Dubois," the host concluded,
turning away from him to study the anomalies in stasis on the level
below his office. On the matter of his guest, he decided to have Mr.
Sanderson keep an especially close eye on him.  "It never hurts to be
too careful."

Dubois left the office quickly, scurrying for his room.  There was a
quiet menace to Eckhardt, which he understood, but didn't want to get
in the way of.  A great menace indeed.

****

[Mutant X Sanctuary]

Adam scanned the news files of every databank he could find.  During
the monthly check on all new mutants, one woman, Alicia Fallone,
hadn't appeared.  According to the Underground, she had never returned
from an errand on the previous evening.  As always, his mind
considered the worst option, the GSA had kidnapped her.

"We'll have to check on her after the conference is over," he decided,
mumbling to himself.  

Jesse called, "Adam!  Take a look at this!"

The leader hurried over to the other's side.  "What did you find out?"
he asked.

The computer genius sighed, "She's been found by the local authorities
in Tucson, Adam.  According to the police record, she was beaten badly
and had a scar on the back of her neck."

"No doubt caused by a subdermal governor," the older man concluded
after scanning the report database.  It was too soon for the coroner's
official report, but hopefully, that could be taken care of as well.
Although he wanted to give mutants a legal and safe living
environment, sometimes that meant a little bit of subterfuge every now
and again.  "Something else to worry about down there."

"You want us to hang with you tomorrow afternoon?" the density mutant
inquired.

"Let me think about that.  I'll brief all of you during the trip.
Since Eckhardt's going to be on the panel with me and Angela Dubois,
you can bet the area'll be crawling with GSA agents," Adam noted.

"You handle Eckhardt.  We can take care of a few guys in the bad
raincoats," Shalimar slurred, coming up the stairs with two steaming
mugs of coffee.  "I figured you could use these."

"Thanks, Shalimar," Adam accepted, sipping from his cup.  "Since we
don't know exactly what we're getting into here, I would advise
caution."

"You smell a trap?" she probed.

"With Eckhardt, one can never be too sure.  As I just told Jesse, I'm
leaving our options open at this point.  Let Brennan and Emma know
that I'll be briefing you once we're in the Double Helix.  I'm not
sure if we should try and contact David Dubois at the same time. Given
his psychological history and abilities, he should be approached with
caution.  I want to avoid causing a scene at all costs.  I'll be
keeping an eye on his wife in case the GSA tries to grab her," the
leader related.

"Speaking of Eckhardt and the GSA, how's the speech coming?" she
asked.

Adam exhaled deeply and continued, "With everything else going on,
I've managed to put together a few pieces here and there.  This is one
of the most important informational opportunities for the outside
world to understand cellular anomalies.  I can't let Eckhardt cause
panic among those researchers."

The feral mutant nodded knowingly.  The more vital something was to
mutantkind as a whole, the more Adam fretted over it.  "You'll kick
his tail, Adam.  We have faith in you."

"You don't know how much I appreciate that sentiment, Shalimar.  Thank
you.  On that note, I think we should get some rest.  Let the
computers collect more data, Jesse.  We'll analyze it on the way down.
Good night," he concluded, heading toward the living quarters.

The two mutants glanced at each other, wondering about what the team
would be getting into on this trip.  Neither liked surprises, and this
expedition seemed chock full of them.

****

Emma sat in her room, focusing on her surroundings, and allowing her
mind to drift a bit.  She had felt more psychic tremors coming from
the Southwest.  Concentrating on the negativity, an image formed in
her mind of David Dubois once again.  He was in a room with four...no
six others, and they were arguing about something.  As he was
speaking, the empath noted that his image was blurring, a sign that
the negativity was surfacing again.  "How are we supposed to talk with
him if he's that volatile?" she wondered aloud.

"With caution, I'm afraid," Adam's voice replied through the crack in
the door.  "May I come in?"

"Sure. I was just following up on some bad vibes I felt earlier
tonight.  I can't believe how much pain that man is in," she
commented.  "It's literally bleeding off of him."

"After looking at his profile, I can understand it," he noted.  "Did
you find anything else?"

"Wait," she requested, refocusing on the spot, but this time, between
the speakers.  "Yes, there's a body on the table.  It's Alicia
Fallone, Adam!  What happened?"

"She disappeared earlier tonight.  The police found her a few hours
ago.  I had Jesse tap into their database.  According to the initial
report, she was beaten and left for dead," he reported.  "She...had a
scar in the back of her neck, and the detectives found a shred of a
raincoat and a piece of the subdermal governor."

The telepath closed her eyes and shook her head sadly.  In the past
six months since finding out who she was, Alicia had been a great help
and a soothing presence in the adjustment to life as a new mutant.  A
tear creased her cheek.

"I'm sorry," he soothed.  "I know you two corresponded often.  If it's
any consolation, it's hard for me as well."

She studied his face, noting his grim facade.  He felt as though all
of the mutant progeny of Geneomax were his children, and, just as with
any parent, he was grieving as well.  "Thank you, Adam.  I appreciate
it.  Let's just stop the GSA from causing any more damage down there,"
she replied.

"Absolutely," he agreed.  "And I've got a big task for you as well.
I'll fill you in on the flight down there."

She nodded, "Sounds good.  Well, if you'll excuse me, we've got an
early start tomorrow.  Good night."

He smiled.  She had certainly developed in her own inner strength
since her arrival.  "I'll see you then.  Good night."  With that, he
left the room.

Now that she was alone, Emma allowed the tears to flow for her friend.
She would have to let out her sadness before the morning, so that she
would be able to focus.  Everyone would be counting on her.  For some
reason, she felt uneasy as if some other issue were waiting for them
down there.  "Calm down, Emma," she told herself.  "You're an empath
not a prophetess."   Lying down on her bed, she created a bubble of
tranquility for herself and slowly drifted off to sleep within it.

Additional Note:  This scenario takes place about three and a half
years into the future of the current Smallville series.

Chapter 8

[Smallville, Kansas--Two hours before the discussion in the morgue]

Far away from the discussions occurring both to the east and west of
him, Clark Kent sat in the coffee shop located in the heart of
downtown, sipping on a lukewarm mocha, and waiting for his friends to
show up.  In between all of the events related to their senior year,
he and his friends were busy with the editorial positions for "the
Torch," the high school paper.  On this particular night, Chloe, his
long time friend and the editor in chief, had asked the editors to
meet here.  For his part, he hoped it would be a short meeting.  He
still needed to get home and pack for his trip in the morning.

Just then, a voice cut into his reverie.  "Hey, Clark.  Spacing out on
us again?"

He looked up just as Chloe Sullivan and his other friend, Pete, slid
into the booth seat across from him.  "I'm fine.  Just thinking about
the trip is all."

"So, are you psyched to get some time alone with Lana?" Pete pushed
teasingly.  He knew that his friend had watched their fellow editor
for a while before they began dating almost two years before.

"Pete, don't start," Chloe told him.  She knew Clark had enough on his
mind without them saying anything more about the subject.  Besides,
until they started dating, the editor in chief had held out hope that
Clark would be her boyfriend instead of Lana's.  But at least, they
were all friends. "So are you ready for your trip?"

"Everything's laid out on my bed, waiting to be thrown into my duffel
bag," Clark revealed.  "Dad's taking us to the airport early in the
morning."

"It's nice to know that we're both at the same point," Lana laughed,
kissing him on the cheek and plopping herself down next to him.  "I
don't feel like I'll ever be ready."

Chloe started, "Other than that, are you both ready?  I mean this is
an experience in the big city, and a major university.  I would feel
lost in your shoes."

Lana shrugged, "Normally, I would.  I mean visiting KU and Wisconsin
seemed overwhelming.  At least, Arizona has a personalized visit
program."

"Personalized?" Pete asked.

"A professor will be picking us up at the airport and give us a
snapshot of the experience.  You know, a few classes, lunch in the
Student Union, and we arranged to get into that conference as well,"
Clark added, taking another sip from his drink.

"That sounds so cool.  Some benefits and a chance to see how things
really work," Chloe replied.  "And you touched on the reason for my
asking you all down here."

The other three teens glanced at each other.  What did she have in
mind this time?  Their chief editor had innovative if not provocative
ideas for the paper.

"Come on, guys!" Chloe continued.  "I was just looking to start a
student snapshot section.  You know about our on campus visits and
such.  If you could make a few comments about your insights, that
would be great especially with that meeting."  

Clark glanced at Lana who nodded back at him.  "Okay," he agreed.

"Great!" the leader beamed.  She always loved it when they came up
with a new idea. "Well, it's getting late.  You'd best be getting
home.  Have a great time."

"I'm sure we will," Clark agreed, looking at Lana, and smiling.  "It
should be enlightening."

****

Six hours later, Clark roused himself from his slumber and dressed
quickly.  He needed to get the chores done before they left for the
airport.  Hustling to the barn, he checked the hay in the horses'
stalls, made sure the animals were fed, the cows were milked, and the
equipment put away neatly.  At super speed, every task except for the
milking was accomplished in the blink of an eye.  Since the livestock
were accustomed to his routine, they largely ignored their human
caretaker's methods.  The milk, on the other hand, came out at a
normal rate so as not to hurt the cows.  In 20 minutes time, he had
everything under control, and was carrying two full milk pails up the
dirt trail toward the house where a light was already shining in the
kitchen.

Entering the dwelling, the teenager noticed his mother already getting
the coffee and breakfast ready to go.  Even if her son weren't leaving
this morning, Martha Kent would've been getting the daily routine
started at this point.  "Hi, Mom," he greeted.

"Morning, Clark," she replied pleasantly, hugging him.  "How're you
this morning?"

"A bit anxious, but otherwise, okay," he grinned sheepishly, placing
the milk on the counter gently.

"Thanks for milking them, Clark," she expressed.  "I'll have breakfast
in a minute.  I made you and Lana a couple of sandwiches for the
trip."

"Thanks," he smiled.  "I wonder who this Dr. Dubois is.  The man
that's going to be meeting us."

"Actually, while you were at your meeting last night, both he and his
wife called here and spoke to both your father and me.  He sounds like
a wonderful man.  Apparently, there's a full slate for you two down in
Arizona.  If he's like the rest of the professors down there, you
should have a good experience one way or the other," she related.

"I'll say," her husband agreed, entering the room.  Jonathan Kent eyed
his son warmly yet cautiously.  Ever since they had found him in the
crater thirteen years earlier, the Kents had tried to keep his
abilities a secret.  Now, he was looking to go far away.  The big city
was calling to him despite their best efforts to keep him there.  "At
least, he knew how to speak plain English.  That's a rarity among
those ivory tower types.  Anyhow, the Duboises filled us in on your
agenda.  Apparently, you're going to get a slice of life at the
university.  I like an honest approach," he remarked.  "By the way,
the barn looks great, Son.  Why don't you get in the shower?  We need
to be at the Langs' place by 4:30."

"Right," he agreed, rushing up the stairs and into the shower.  Within
fifteen minutes, he was cleaned up, changed, and had his bag beside
his chair. "All set."

"Not before you get a proper breakfast inside of you," she chuckled.
"Take a seat."

"Better listen to her, Clark," his father noted humorously, needling
his wife.

For her part, she ignored them both as her work took precedence.  Yet,
under her facade, she secretly enjoyed the baiting.  Work was made
easier when a good measure of humor was mixed in.

****

The ride to the airport went fairly quickly as all three parties kept
to themselves, wondering about the future.  Despite all of the good
signs, a bit of tension hung in the air, hinting at something ominous.
Chalking it up to the weird ways in the prairie community, each person
decided to keep it to himself or herself.

Upon reaching the facility, Jonathan parked the truck and helped his
son with the bags.  Even this early in the morning, there was a small
line at the ticket counter.  However, within ten minutes, Clark and
Lana had their boarding passes in hand and their luggage checked.

"Thank you, Mr. Kent, for driving us here," Lana noted.  "I really
appreciate it."

"You're welcome," he replied pleasantly.  "Good luck with your trip.
Sorry to ask, but..."

She grinned warmly and agreed, "You two need a moment alone.  That's
okay.  I'll see you on the other side, Clark."  Walking through the
security system, she gazed at the two men, talking to each other
intently.  Not for the first time, she felt the pangs of loneliness
for her own deceased parents and that they weren't there for her.
Hopefully, by leaving this town after graduation, she could start to
build a new life for herself.  And if Clark would go too, all the
better.

****

"So, how are you feeling, Clark?" Jonathan asked. 

"I'm still a bit nervous actually.  I really want to do the big city
thing, but I'm not sure if I'm ready for it," the younger man
indicated.

"Your Mom and I would like you to stay, you know," the older man
started.  "But, you're always looking beyond Smallville.  Sooner or
later, you're going to want to leave.  Just know that whatever you
decide to do, we're in back of you."

"Thanks, Dad.  This'll be a fact-finding expedition for all of us.  I
figure Lana and I will go to class, get to know some people, research
that story, and think things through.  That's what this trip is for,
right?" Clark asked.

"Right.  Take care.  Call us after you get back from dinner tonight,
okay?  And behave yourself around her," he requested, a smile forming
on his face.

"You know it," the younger man assured him.  "Well, I gotta meet Lana
at the gate before our flight takes off.  Thank Mom again for packing
lunch."

"I'll let her know.  Good luck," Jonathan concluded, slapping his son
on the shoulder.  Then, as the latter went through the checkpoint, he
watched as his son head off to the future.  "Good luck, Son," he
thought as the latter disappeared around the corner, heading toward
his destiny.    

Chapter 9 [Tucson]

Nick walked through the front door of the El Gato Negro bar two hours
before sunrise.  After his discussions with LaCroix and Dave, he
decided to speak with the former, if he was available.  Looking about
the place, he marveled at how much it resembled the Raven in its decor
and the dancing of the mortals and immortals alike.  Running his hands
along the chain link rail, he descended the staircase and made his way
to the bar.  There, he sat down while continuing to observe everything
around him.

Janette broke off a conversation with another patron and made her way
over to her master.  "Nicolas, I'm flattered that you would honor us
with a visit.  Is this business or pleasure?" she asked.

"Both actually," he grinned.  "I've been meaning to come down here and
take a look around.  You've done wonders with the place."

"Thank you," she acknowledged with a smile.  "It's been a labor of
love, trust me.  However, our kind needs a central place, no?"
Scanning him through their shared link, she sensed the vampire's
growing dominance.  "Would you care for a drink?"

"My usual," he accepted.  

"One cow and wine coming up," she remarked dryly, signaling to the
bartender.  "As for the business part, what would that pertain to?  If
it's LaCroix, I would warn you, Nicolas, he is in a bad mood."

"I know.  Apparently, he had a visitor at KRAN tonight," the detective
remarked, sipping on the cow cocktail.  "Merci."

"Dubois gets bolder by the day," the immortal lady of the night
sighed.  "That man needs to understand that he's only mortal."

"After what he's been through, Janette, I don't blame him.  LaCroix
did start this mess.  As for how he's handling it, his wife and I have
both lectured him on it, but...." he continued.

"But, he's still sliding down that slippery slope?  From what I
understand from my friends at the University, he's losing control.
Perhaps that fight is taking its toll, hmm?" she inquired.

"I have to admit that you're right," he shrugged.  "Still, I would
like to try and get this resolved if I could before it comes to war."

At those words, he felt a familiar vibration followed by a sarcastic
chuckling approaching from his left.  Turning, he saw the old Roman
standing beside him, an intense expression locked in his eyes.

"Good evening, Nicholas.  How nice of you to join us even if it means
watching you drink that swill," LaCroix greeted.  "I must say that I
was flattered when you called in.  Was work that quiet tonight?"

"Actually, no it wasn't.  We found a homicide victim tonight on the
south side.  A young woman with a remarkable DNA makeup," he reported.

"Really?" the elder vampire asked.  "Could it be that a mutant hunter
is in town?  Pity he or she got the wrong freak."

"If I understood your clue right, he was with you tonight," Nick
stated.

"Nicolas..." Janette cut in with a warning tone.

"Actually, he was there tonight.  He gave me some information
concerning a breach in the security surrounding the duel.  Apparently,
a mortal taped the whole thing.  How unfortunate, given the Enforcers'
current status.  But your friend deliberately provoked me tonight,
Nicholas.  Nobody comes into my domain and insults me!  No one!" the
Elder hissed.  "Advise him to learn some manners."

"Considering his mood tonight, you're lucky he didn't start something.
LaCroix, the man has defeated Divia, several Enforcers, and Dijon!
With all due respect, each of those parties either has hurt you or
could hurt you.  Janette was right.  He's slowly losing control, and
it's your fault.  You started it when you confronted him in the
classroom."

"I suppose he told you that he wants me dead?" the older vampire
supposed.  "As if he could get close enough to do it.  Really,
Nicholas.  I owe both him and his infernal sister, and I intend to pay
them both back richly."

"If he doesn't kill you first," his former protégé countered.  

LaCroix gripped his glass so hard that he broke it, spilling the
blood-merlot all over the counter.  "HE IS AN IRRITANT!  THAT IS ALL!"
he roared, vamping out.  "I'll thank you to remember that!"

Feeling the uncomfortable glance from Janette, Nick picked up his
glass and departed from the bar area, leaving the other two vampires
seething behind him.  Picking a table in the corner, he settled in to
finish his drink before leaving.

"Hey, Miles, that was some scene over there.  Had a little too much?"
Vachon gibed.

"This is my only one, Vachon," Nick sighed.  "What's on your mind?"

"Tracy told me about Dubois.  Man, that is one crazy hombre," the
conquistador remarked.

"If you felt hunted, you might respond the same way," the detective
argued.  "He's having problems handling all of the stress lately.  The
more he uses his darkness, the less control he has over the Other.  I
worry about him and LaCroix. If LaCroix goes after him, I wonder if
he'll survive, considering that Dave, Xena, and Cybelle are all
waiting in line to kill him."

"Yeah, I can see your point, Amigo," the Iberian concurred.  "With
everything else, we don't need a spark to set off the Community.
After that Enforcer mess, everyone's still a little edgy.  By the way,
Tracy also told me about that weird corpse you got in tonight."

"We're checking it out," Nick replied.  "Meantime, I want everyone to
keep a lid on this one.  That situation's not helping Dave either.
Besides, who's to say that this suspect isn't looking to take a
vampire as well?"

"Like they would?" 

"I have to stay open to all possibilities," the detective commented,
finishing his glass and leaving a generous tip on the table.  "The
sun's almost up.  I'll see you soon."  With that, he rushed out the
front door toward the Caddy.

Vachon shook his head as he contemplated Nick's words.
"Unbelievable," he muttered, heading out himself.  Seeing the first
dim signs of pink in the east, he took off heading for the apartment. 
The day would be long enough to allow some thought on this issue and
the ramifications to them all.  

Chapter 10 

The radio alarm went off early in the Dubois household on that
morning.  Angie stirred first, getting up and walking out into the
living room.  Her paper wasn't flowing properly, at least, in her
estimation. So, she scratched and marked up the draft, reading it for
flow and content as she went.  Three times she rehearsed the piece,
but it never sounded right to her.

About an hour into this litany, Dave shuffled into the living room and
silently watched her.  "She's always a perfectionist," he thought with
admiration, entering the area.  He cleared his throat to get her
attention.

"What?" she asked nervously.  "Oh, Dave!  Good morning.  How long?"

"Just long enough to watch your last run through," he grinned, ambling
over to her side.  "It's fine, Princess.  You're going to be great."

"I wish I could agree.  My co-speakers are experts in this field."

"As are you when it comes to cancer and cellular mutation," he argued.
"Have faith in yourself.  Dr. Fishburne never would have arranged this
session if he didn't think you were up to it."  

"I'd listen to him, Angela," Xena's voice added as she appeared in the
corner.  

"Tell her," the medievalist requested.

The Warrior Princess grinned, "I've watched you fretting over this
speech for the past three days.  You're a terrific healer.  Have faith
in yourself.  Remember, you're not alone up there.  I'll be with you
every step of the way."

The oncologist looked at her companions, thinking about their words.
Just as with the sun after a rainstorm, a smile slowly broke through
her gloomy features.  "Thanks, guys.  You're the best," she told them,
embracing first her husband and then, the image.

"Our pleasure," he assured her, rubbing her shoulder.  "I'll go look
in on the twins if you'd get the coffee."

"Why don't you get in the shower?" she urged.  "You need to get to the
airport for 9:00 AM, don't you?"

"If you say so," he shrugged.  "I'm on my way." Turning, he walked
into the bathroom and shut the door.

"Keep your chin up, Angela," the warrior urged.  "If you need me, I'll
be close by."  Fading away, she left her "roommate" feeling much
better than when she had appeared moments before.

****

Two hours later, Dave parked the Subaru in short-term parking and
entered the airport terminal.  Finding a monitor screen, he browsed
through the listings. "American 7845.  Gate 15.  They'll be on the
ground in 15 minutes."  Making his way through security, he headed for
the gate to meet the kids.

***

About 15,000 feet above him, Clark and Lana were descending toward the
Old Pueblo.  The flight from Smallville had been enlightening for
them.  

She had admired the scenery far below them and the different vistas.
For her, the desert had a hidden beauty with the rock formations,
wide-open spaces, and a sunrise with a wide spectrum of colors.
Unlike the smothering small town atmosphere of Smallville, she felt
free as if she had room to breathe for the first time.  She could
definitely see herself going to school out here.

For his part, he felt something about the sensation of being miles off
of the ground.  On top of his nerves over being out of Kansas for the
first time since the meteor shower, he felt as if another aspect of
his abilities were coming to the forefront.  Over the past three
years, one power after another had revealed themselves to him.   The
familiar feeling preceding a new aspect of those talents had begun to
churn inside of him.  For some reason, he felt at home high above the
clouds.  Staring out the window, he wondered what it would be like to
fly like a bird, to soar like an eagle surveying everything around
him.

"Clark?" she asked.

"Yeah?  Oh, sorry.  I was just taking in the sights," he excused
himself.

She giggled, "You're so insightful, always looking into things lying
beneath the surface.  Anyhow, we're about ready to land, so you'll
need to buckle your seat belt."

"Right," he concurred sheepishly, securing the restraint.  "I just
have a lot on my mind is all."

"Uh huh," she cracked, raising a humorous eyebrow.  That was so Clark-
like.  Still, after dating her previous boyfriend, he was a refreshing
change.  "You know, there's nothing wrong with admiring the scenery.
Wouldn't it be marvelous to be able to fly without the plane?  I would
love to be able to soar above the clouds, feel the wind on my face,
watch the birds fly by, and look down on this scene without having to
peer through the glass.  Wouldn't you?" she inquired.

"I know what you mean," he agreed.  "It's breathtaking, isn't it?"

"It is."

Then, the plane alighted on the runway and taxied to its destination
on the far row of gates.  It wouldn't be long now.

Fifteen minutes later, the two teens strolled into the terminal area. 
Looking about, they tried to locate Dave, but there were so many
people around them.  Finally, they saw a man dressed in a navy,
pinstriped suit with a large white sign.

"I think that's him," Clark indicated.  "Come on."

***

Dave arrived at the gate about seven minutes ahead of schedule just to
be on the safe side.  With all of the people milling around the area,
he wanted to be sure that the kids wouldn't miss him somehow.  On that
note, he surveyed the area around him.  "I wish this airport would
learn how to space flights out," he groused.  Oftentimes, there would
be no activity for an hour and then, five planes would land on
adjacent strips at the same time, making for a congested runway.
Still, he knew it was futile to ask an administrator to plan ahead.  

Sipping on his blackberry tea, he stood across from the gate, waiting
for the flight to descend.  At that moment, a rush of people from
another flight swept past him.  That, in itself, wasn't unusual.
However, midway through, the professor felt a familiar presence in the
crowd, and, for a brief second, he could have sworn he saw his father
walk right by him accompanied by a slender white haired man.  "What in
the...?" he growled low.  But, by the time he took a second look, the
men were gone and so was the feeling.  "Come on, Dave, lighten up," he
advised himself.  "He's nowhere near here."

At that moment, the PA announced, "Attention, everyone!  Flight 7845
from Chicago has landed and will be at the gate shortly.  Thank you."

"Okay, get a grip on yourself," he muttered, forcing his anger back
down.  "They'll be here any minute."  A nervous gulp of tea later, the
gate door opened, allowing the passengers to enter the area.  For five
minutes, he watched the crowd, seeing if he could spot his guests.
Then, from the jet way, his psychic senses locked onto a particular
powerful aura.  "What the?" he wondered and focused on the source.
Whoever it was, the person was definitely coming closer.  Recalling
his initial experience with Alyce, he sighed, "How come I get the
unusual ones?  Just dumb luck, I guess."

At that moment, he spied two teenagers looking around for somebody.
"I'll bet that's them," he smiled and held up a sign with their names
on it.  When the young man waved back at him, he knew that his
suspicions had been accurate.  "Here we go," the professor thought a
bit nervously, walking toward them.

"Excuse me, Professor Dubois?" the woman asked.

"That's right," he grinned warmly.  "Lana, right?  Hi, I'm David
Dubois, a history professor at the U of A."

"Pleased to meet you," she accepted, shaking his hand.  "And this is
Clark Kent."

"Good to meet you as well," Dave greeted, shaking her friend's hand.
As soon as they touched, however, the professor felt a surge of energy
from him.  His was the aura he had sensed earlier.  Taking a step
backward, he rubbed his head to alleviate the slight headache between
his eyes.  "Whoa!" he winced.

Clark watched the medievalist warily.  Perhaps, it was his father's
cautiousness about his powers, but somehow, he got the feeling that
this man had discovered whom he really was.  "But, through a single
touch?" he thought.

Lana looked at their host curiously.  Granted, Smallville had its
share of weirdness, but, as with Clark, questions popped up in her
mind.  "Why would he react like that?" she mused.  

Dave managed to straighten up.  "Great.  I need one of my episodes
now.  Probably scared them six ways to Sunday," he chastised himself. 
"Sorry about that, guys.  Long night, I guess.  Well, let's say we
pick up your bags and then, head over to your hotel.  I figure you
might want some time to freshen up before you hit campus."

"That sounds great," she agreed.  

"Then, let's go," the professor concurred, guiding them toward baggage
claim.  Still, the uneasiness about his father persisted.  The sooner
he could get them to the hotel, the sooner he could talk to Steve
about this occurrence.

****

Across the terminal, Eckhardt observed the trio leave the area with
concern.  Between the elder Dubois's legal status and the usual GSA
concerns, he insisted on taking a private flight.  However, due to the
logistics of this airport, the group ended up pulling into a public
terminal.  Obviously, this wasn't his first choice, but they made due.
Allowing his agents to mix in with the rest of the milling crowd, he
entered along with Dubois, making their way for the exit.  Still,
running into Dubois's son was an unexpected surprise.  "His senses are
sharper than I thought," he assessed to himself, making a note to
prepare for great difficulty with the professor and his wife.  

"We got by him unnoticed," Dubois assumed.

"No, Mr. Dubois.  He noticed you even in the midst of this throng,"
Eckhardt corrected.  "Not to worry, though.  Everything's under
control.  Now, let's go.  The session starts in six hours, and I want
to be ready."

The other man nodded.  Whatever he thought of his routine, Eckhardt
certainly had his act together.

****
   
About 400 miles to the east, the Double Helix streaked toward the Old
Pueblo at Mach-1 speed.  Inside, Mutant X contemplated its next move
as well as the GSA's.

Adam scratched his head, "I know I've been keeping you in the dark
since last night, but I needed to work out some details."

"So, are we going to approach Dubois directly?" Shalimar inquired,
watching the leader carefully.

"No.  I think that between the recent situation and his father's
escape, the man will be too edgy to confront.  I would like to keep an
eye on him, however.  I want you all to stay close by the Medical
Center, but not too close.  Eckhardt has no doubt prepared something
with you all in mind," the older man noted.

"From what I could tell," Jesse added.  "He's going to be in class at
that point on the main campus."

At that moment, Emma rubbed her temples again.  For the entire trip,
she had felt momentary flashes of pain.  Now, as Dave felt his
father's presence and came into contact with Clark, the telepath
received yet another signal.  "Speaking of our professor," she winced.
"Adam, his father is here!"

"What?" the leader asked.  "Are you certain?"

"He picked up on his father's essence," she told them.  "And then, he
touched something or someone with a big charge.  Wow."

Brennan probed, "How does the fact that his old man is here change
things, Adam?"

Emma cut in.  "There's a history between them, Brennan.  From what
I've been able to pick up, his father abused him.  That's why he's so
unstable."

"And, given how he's on edge to start with, I was hoping to avoid
something like this," Adam stated, shaking his head.  "Emma, will you
be able to maintain contact while I'm with the panel?"

"Absolutely," she nodded.  "In any event, I can't tune him out."

Her teammates gathered around her, trying to be supportive.  Given how
much she cared about others, Dubois's pain must have been Hell for her
to bear.  All they could do was to help her and stay alert for any
surprises from Eckhardt or the GSA.

Chapter 11

Angie had performed her rounds with great care, making sure that her
patients were comfortable.  By noon, she had all of her reports
completed and stacked on a corner of her desk.

"Okay, everything's done," she thought.  "Now, I can focus on the
paper."  Just then, a knock came from the door.  "Yes?"

"Dr. Dubois?" Belinda McDermott asked.  "How's everything?"

"A bit antsy, but otherwise, I'm okay," the oncologist admitted.  "The
patients are set for now."

"And your presentation?" the other doctor asked.

"It's coming along all right," Angie noted.  "The charts are in the
database, and the paper's right here."  She picked up a bound
document, admitting, "It does feel good to be getting back into this
again."

"You're the expert in this area, Doctor," her colleague assured her.
"I can't wait to see your presentation this afternoon."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Angie expressed, a shy smile
making its way across her face.  "It makes it easier, trust me."

"We're all pulling for you," Natalie added, sticking her head in the
door.

"Thanks," Angie accepted.  "A lot of work done, but this is my ticket
back into my research area."

"One step at a time, Angie,"  the coroner advised.  "You're going to
do great, Kiddo."

"How's everything on your end, Dr. LeBeau?" Belinda asked.

"The cases are always interesting," the pathologist remarked.  "Never
a dull night down there."

"Speaking of which, I have some rounds to attend to.  Good to see you,
Dr. LeBeau.  Dr. Dubois, as soon as I finish everything, I'm heading
downstairs.  See you there," the younger doctor concluded, walking out
of the room.

Looking around the hallway to make sure that nobody else was coming,
Natalie closed the door, insuring their privacy.  Holding up a file
folder, she announced, "Here are the DNA results."

"Really?" Angie inquired, her curiosity piqued.  "And what do we
know?"

"Steve oversaw the whole procedure.  According to this report, we were
right.  The Fallone woman wasn't your run of the mill homicide.  She
had an enhanced cellular structure.  Angie, how many others are out
there like her?"

"More than you think," the oncologist confirmed.  "Such as me, my
family and many of my in-laws."

"Right," Natalie realized.  "So what do we do about this?  Steve
doesn't want to bring in the big guns, but I don't see any choice.  To
commit a murder, leave clues, and yet, have nothing pop up in the
investigation, we're dealing with a major league cover up."

"I'd say so," Angie replied.  "Did he find out anything about that car
that helped my father-in-law to escape?"

"He's still looking," her visitor shrugged.  "He'll let us know.  But,
for this afternoon at least, he'll be here along with Schank, Tracy,
and me.  After you're done, I think we're going to question both Zero
and Eckhardt about it."

"Is there a connection?" Angie probed.

"Not as far we know, but since they seem to be two experts in the
field of cellular genetics, they might be able to provide some
insight," Natalie revealed.  "Well, I gotta run and get some lunch.
Want to come with me?  My treat."

The oncologist grinned.  A break was just what she needed.  "You're
on.  Let's go.  Remember, I need to be there by 2:00 PM."

"Don't worry.  You're in good hands on that one," Natalie assured her
as they headed for the door.

****

Meantime, Dave escorted Clark and Lana to the Arizona Inn and made
sure they were checked into their rooms.  

"I'll meet you down here in 25 minutes," he indicated.

"Right," she agreed, walking into the elevator alongside with her
boyfriend.

After the doors had closed, the professor crossed the lobby, moving
toward a particular corner table where Steve was waiting for him.  

"What's up, Dubie?  I thought you were on babysitting duty," he joked.

"Yok it up, fuzzbrain," the medievalist growled.  "We've got
problems."

The agent recognized the darkness brewing across his friend's face.
"Uh oh, this has got something to do with your father, doesn't it?
We're still looking for him, Dave."

"Have you thought about looking here?" the professor suggested.

"Huh?  He's up in New England," Steve stated.

"Some hotshot agent you are.  He was in the crowd at the airport this
morning just before my guests arrived.  I saw him and felt his
presence," Dave reported.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked.  "How could he have gotten through our
security net?"

"Maybe he flew here on a private plane or has some powerful friends,"
Dave shrugged.   "Anyway, I only felt him for a second, but it was
him.  Trust me, when the Child goes nuts like that, I know.  I still
have the headache from it."

"Wow," his friend sighed.  "If it was a private plane, that would
explain it.  So, where do you think he'll be?"

"I don't know," the professor replied honestly.  "But Angie's
presentation would be a good bet to smoke me out.  Also, keep an eye
on the apartment just in case."

"I'll get right on it," the agent agreed, standing up.  "I'll phone it
in.  Just make sure you get over to the session before your wife
speaks, huh?"

"I'll be there as soon as I can.  This was just a case of bad timing,"
Dave concluded.  "Go on.  Eve and Francesca will be here any minute as
will the two recruits."

"Okay.  Good luck with them.  They seem to be wary of you already," he
gibed good-naturedly. Smiling, he held the door open for the two
aforementioned professors before ducking through it himself.

"What was that about?" Francesca wondered.  "He was in a hurry."

"I think he has a lead on my father.  He's been spotted," Dave
indicated.

"Really?" Eve asked.  "Where?"

"Here.  Actually, he walked right by me in the airport this morning.
He was with another man who I can't identify at this point.  Anyhow,
given his attitude toward this area, he's up to no good, I'm sure of
it," he explained.

The former Messenger soothed, "It's going to be okay, David.  Our
friends with the police department will be at Angela's talk in case of
any trouble.  Also, you told Steve right?"

"That's why he rushed out of here," he noted.

"Okay," the Italian Literature professor declared.  "Then, it's being
taken care of.  On another note, are our guests here yet?"

"They're upstairs, freshening up, I guess," he replied.  

"So, what's your impression of them?" Eve asked.

"They seem like great kids," he smiled.  Looking around to make sure
that nobody was eavesdropping, he leaned close to the two women and
whispered, "There's something strange about the young man, however."  

"What?" they chorused, trying to stay composed.

"Oh great, now you're finding something weird behind every rock and
tree," Francesca jabbed.  "I think the mess with Dijon has pushed you
over the edge."

"I know what I felt!" he hissed low.  "Francesca, remember what I told
you about my first meeting with Alyce in the airport?"

"Yes.  What about it?" she asked.

"It happened again.  I sensed something about him.  Not that he's
going to be a hazard or anything, but there's something special about
him," he surmised.

"So, what do you want to do about him?"  the Religion professor pushed
concernedly.

"Nothing yet.  As I said before, he seems like a nice guy.  A few
powers don't make or break a person," he responded.  

"Yes, I'm sure," Francesca grinned at her cousin.  "If they did, we'd
all be up the creek without a paddle as you Americans like to say."

Then, feeling the aura coming closer again, he said, "They're coming
down the elevator."

His companions looked at each other skeptically before staring at him.
"How do you know that?"

"Trust me," he chuckled, albeit rather anxiously.  Twenty seconds
later, the doors opened, allowing their guests to reenter the lobby.
"I told you," he stated.

After the visitors had reached them, he inquired, "Everything okay up
there?"

"Absolutely," Lana remarked.  "Thank you."

"Everything seems great," Clark added.

"Well good," the medievalist agreed and motioned toward Eve and
Francesca.  "Clark Kent and Lana Lang, these are Dr. Eve Messenger
from the Religious Studies Department and Dr. Francesca Alvaro from
the Foreign Languages Department."

"Welcome," Eve greeted, smiling and shaking their hands.

"How was your trip?" Francesca asked.

"It was great," Clark indicated.  "The views were breathtaking."

"Especially after we crossed into New Mexico from Oklahoma," Lana
added.

"The desert is beautiful," Dave concurred.  "I was hooked when I took
a trip just like yours almost 15 years ago.  Trust me, it never gets
old."

"By the way, pardon me for asking this, Sir, but are you feeling
better?" the younger man probed.

"Much better.  Thanks," the professor replied.  "Sometimes, if I don't
get enough sleep the night before, I have those dizzy spells."

The two female faculty members gave each other a look, managing to
keep their mouths shut on that note since he was trying not to scare
these kids off.

"According to your itinerary," the history professor started, looking
at the document in front of him, "you have a class with Dr. Alvaro at
noon and Dr. Messenger's class at 1:30.  In between, we'll grab some
lunch at the Union."

"And then, we'll be heading over to the lecture?" Clark asked.

"That's correct," Eve agreed.  "Was there anything you needed before
we leave?"

"We're set," Lana indicated.

"Okay," the Literature professor indicated.  "First stop, my
Renaissance literature class.  Avanti!"

With that, the group walked out of the lobby, walked down Third
Street, crossed Campbell, and headed for the Modern Languages Building
where the visitors' first college experience awaited them.
 
Chapter 12

Two hours later, Eckhardt paced the stage where he and his co-
panelists would be speaking.  Although the auditorium was fairly
spacious, he observed that a few strategically placed agents could
cover the exits and the crowd.  After all, one could never be too
prepared in case of trouble, especially given that Adam's band of
outlaws would more than likely be close by.  He had asked Dubois to
wait behind stage just in case anyone here should recognize him.

Then, Sanderson approached him, asking, "Mr. Eckhardt, when do you
want the other half of our engagement mobilized?"

Looking at his watch, the administrator smiled, "Patience, Mr.
Sanderson.  Give it about another 45 minutes.  Then, go to the Social
Sciences Building on the main campus to accomplish your mission.  Is
the equipment ready?"

The agent held up what appeared to be an animal injector gun.  "It's
ready, Sir.  We won't fail you."

"See that you don't," Eckhardt remarked dryly.  "A word of caution.
Remember that this particular anomaly should be treated with the
utmost care due to his psychological makeup."

"Absolutely," the other man agreed and left the scene.

"Splendid," the white-haired man smiled.

"Not from where I'm standing," a familiar voice countered.

The director turned to see his one time geneticist and present
adversary standing behind him.  "Adam.  I see you came early.  Are you
getting a feel for the hall as well?"

"No actually, I wanted to keep an eye on you.  You're playing with
fire this time, Maison," Adam warned.  "Leave the Duboises alone."

"Actually, I can't do that.  Those two freaks need to be contained for
the greater social good and at any cost," Eckhardt noted.  "The wheels
are already turning, and this time, you can't stop them."

"Well, all I have to do is keep an eye on the good doctor during our
session.  As for her husband, I trust you know that there's more to
him than his powers.  Your cost might jeopardize his whole career and
his stability.  Nothing is worth that."

"That's your misguided view," Eckhardt shrugged.  "Just stay out of my
way."

"You know I can't do that," Adam stated stubbornly.  "And Mutant X is
here to back me up."  Noticing the lights starting to come on, he
continued, "I think this discussion should be postponed due to our
host's appearance, wouldn't you agree?"

The other man grimly concurred, but this debate wasn't over.  The plan
was already in motion.  Soon, the dominoes would start to fall.

***

Natalie and Angie walked back into the complex contentedly.  The
Lebanese food had been a wonderful treat, as had the opportunity for
the two friends to catch up on things.  

For her part, Angie enjoyed watching her friend practically glow over
her developing relationship with Steve.  It was great to hear about
what the couple was doing and the planned getaway to San Carlos
sounded wonderful.  The agent had been so quiet and, in the 12 years
that she had known him, had always been a loner.  Now, he was enjoying
himself and being good to the coroner at the same time.

Natalie liked her friend's enthusiasm as well.  Grappling with her
husband's moods, the kids, co-existing with Xena, and the nonstop
crises had kept her from her oncological research.  From the draft she
had read two days earlier, the ME knew that Angie was on to some other
major breakthroughs.  "Now, if only things stay stable for a while,"
she mused.  "Certainly, Dave and Angie have been through enough
already."

At that moment, Dr. Fishburne approached them, asking, "How was
lunch?"

"Great, Sir," Angie replied pleasantly.

"Good," he smiled.  "Are you ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she sighed nervously.  "I can't believe
there's only an hour to go."

"You'll be fine," the coroner reassured her.

"Absolutely.  Your research is top-notch.  I can't see why you'd have
any problems," her boss agreed.  "By the way, your husband is waiting
for you in your office with a young lady."

"Really?" the oncologist wondered.  "If you'll excuse me, I need to
see what Dave wants.  Natalie, thank you, I really appreciated the
treat."

"I'll see you in the auditorium," the pathologist stated.

Angie rode the elevator up to her department and walked down the hall.
There, Lori Applegate confirmed what their boss had told her before.
Reaching the office, she peeked in.

"Hi, Angie.  Sorry to intrude like this," Dave apologized.

"No problem," the doctor assured him as they embraced.  "A surprise
visit from you is always a nice thing.  And, I take it that this young
lady is one of our guests."

"Right," he concurred.  "This is Lana Lang from Smallville, Kansas.
Lana, this is Dr. Angela Dubois, the best oncological researcher in
these parts and a great doctor."

"It's a pleasure, Dr. Dubois," the younger woman expressed, shaking
hands with Angie.  

"Would you like something to drink?" Angie asked.  "I must apologize
if I wasn't expecting you yet.  I thought you'd still be in class."

"I wanted to spend some time with you for the story I'm working on,"
Lana replied.  "No disrespect meant, Professor Dubois, but I was
hoping to spend some time with your wife if that's okay."

"That's fine.  You have Dr. Messenger's class first thing in the
morning and then, my World Civ. Course in the afternoon.  Believe me,
I appreciate initiative," he assured his guest.  "Well, if you don't
mind, I need to be getting back to campus.  I'll be back in about 45
minutes as soon as Winnie's settled."

"I'm reserving a seat for you and Mr. Kent," his wife informed him
warmly.  "A girl needs her cheering section, you know."

He beamed at her for a minute before departing.

"Well, Lana, how's your trip been so far?" Angie asked, fixing herself
a cup of coffee.  

"It's been wonderful so far.  Your husband's been great, making sure
that everything's taken care of.  He seems to really know how to show
people around this place," Lana complemented.

The doctor chuckled, "That comes from being a peer advisor himself.
He also loves this place.  Although we're both from the Northeast, we
feel that this is home.  Are you sure you won't have something?"

"A Pepsi would be great if you don't mind," the recruit accepted.
"Thanks."

Angie walked down the hall to the soda machine and produced the
requested item.  Within a minute, she had returned to the room.
Giving it to the other woman, she responded, "My pleasure.  By the
way, what does your family do, Lana?"

Taking a sip from the bottle, the teen sighed, "My aunt and I have a
farm.  She works in town too."

"Really?  I was raised on a farm," her hostess informed her.  "My
parents live in Wabash, NY, an hour or so northeast of Albany."

Lana smiled warmly.  She knew that Professor Dubois was doing his best
and that his hospitality was winning them over.  Yet, somehow, the
fact that his wife was a former farm girl who had gone on to bigger
and better things reassured her.  She and Clark were in the right
place.  "And, if you don't mind me asking, what brought you both out
here?"

"Well, my husband had come out here in the early eighties to get away
from his family and for the climate.  I admit I did the same thing.
We didn't actually meet until eight years later down in Texas.  We
were out here on a vacation trip when Dr. Fishburne offered me a job. 
Caitlin Sommers, the library dean, gave him his position.
Dave...Professor Dubois...proposed to me in front of a group of people
at the Foreign Languages Building.  Right in the auditorium where Dr.
Alvaro was lecturing to her class this morning.  So, we accepted the
jobs, moved out here, and started a family," she recalled happily.
"Actually, I need to thank you as well."

"For what?"

"For helping me get ready for my talk," the researcher continued.  "I
have to admit that I'm nervous."

"Really?  But you've published quite a bit.  I did a search on you in
MEDLINE before I left Kansas," Lana doubted.

"I may be a doctor, but I'm also human.  We all get nervous sometimes,
Lana," Angie assured her, allowing a warm twinkle to shine in her
eyes.  "Would you like to go to the auditorium?  I have to get down
there."

"Sure.  Thank you," the teenager concurred, picking up her soda and
walking with her toward the elevator.

****

Meantime, Dave walked into his office and grabbed a little stack of
notes on his desk.  "Can't let the kids off without their research
assignment," he mentioned.  Usually, he would be in a better mood, but
the humor just wasn't there.  Something was eating at his gut.  For
some reason, he sensed something weird once again.  Reaching behind
his desk, he inspected his shafts and tested the bow.  "Just in case,"
he muttered.

A knock came from the door.  "David?" Lydia Coltrane asked.

"Yes?" he inquired.  "What's going on?"

"I think that's my question.  You have class in 10 minutes, and your
wife's speaking across campus.  What're you doing checking your
weapons?"

"We do have a threat," he replied.  "My father's in town, and he's
brought some friends.  I saw them in the airport this morning."

"Your father?" she gasped, recalling the scene from the day after his
wedding.  "Why?"

"How the Hell am I supposed to know?" he snapped.  Picking up two
smoke grenades, he put them in his pants pocket.  "Just in case."
Seeing her fearful expression, he pushed, "What's the problem?"

"You can't take weapons into a classroom," she argued.

"They're defensive weapons.  They don't hurt anyone, rather they
provide a smoke screen," he noted.  "Relax, nobody will know unless it
becomes necessary."  Picking up his satchel, he added, "As soon as I
introduce Winnie, I'm on the way over to the med complex."

"Okay, I'll see you there," his former professor agreed, walking out
of the room.

He locked the door, pocketing the key and feeling the items in his
pockets.  "I've really must come up with something less conspicuous,"
he lectured himself. Walking around the corner, he found the room and
entered it to see his students sitting there, not so patiently waiting
for him.  To his right, he saw Eve and Clark standing there. 

Winnie walked in a moment later and set down her materials.  "Dr.
Dubois," she greeted.  "Thanks for letting me talk to them."

"Thank you for covering me," he stated.  

"No problem," she smiled.  "It's time, you know."

"Right," he agreed, making his way over to the podium.  "Hi, Gang.
Today, we have a guest speaker from the library.  Winnie Henderson's
come over from the library to give you some pointers for your research
assignment...."

A collective groan arose from the gathering, eliciting grins from Eve
and Dave.

"As I was saying, your research assignment which you'll have to work
on over the next week.  Any questions before I turn you over to
Professor Henderson?" he continued, fighting the feeling of triumph.

At that moment, the door opened again, allowing five men in raincoats
and dark sunglasses to enter the room.  Flanking all parts of the
room, they stood, watching everyone motionlessly.

"I've got a question," Sanderson cracked.  "How about you surrender,
and we'll keep this quiet?"

Dave glanced around the room, surveying the situation, recalling the
weapons just around the corner and out of his grasp.

Chapter 13

Over at the UMC's auditorium, the crowd was starting to filter in,
anticipating what promised to be an informative session.  For many of
them, the new ideas would be enlightening especially given the
differing stances over cellular mutations in medical studies.

Around the parameter of the room, GSA agents took their positions,
awaiting their superior's word.

On the side of the stage, Natalie, Steve, and Schanke observed this
activity uneasily.  They wished that Ramirez hadn't changed his mind
about providing uniforms to keep an eye on things.  

"Damn it, Dave," Steve muttered.  "What's going on this time?"

The detective glanced at him, probing, "You think something's up?"

"Count on it," the agent replied, keeping a wary eye on the area.

Natalie sighed.  Despite the crowd's anticipation, the air was
becoming charged with nervous energy.    Looking at her watch, she saw
that it was only 2:20.  "Still six hours to go until sunset," she
muttered, wishing that Nick and Tracy were there.

****
  
Angie paced behind stage, nervously rehearsing her piece and checking
the connectivity of her presentation.  After seating Lana in the front
row, she inspected the web pages and saw that everything looked great.
The paper was in order.  Why should everything be so nerve wracking?

"I'm on my home turf.  Why does everything seem so wrong?" she
wondered.

"Maybe it's because we've got a serious debate coming up," Adam
interjected.  

"Dr. Zero, right?" she supposed.  

"That's right," he indicated, offering his hand.  "Please to meet you,
Dr. Dubois."

She shook it, remarking, "This isn't supposed to be a debate over the
place of mutants in society, Doctor."

"Our co-speaker is prepared to make it such," he commented.  "With so
much on the line for both of us, Angela, we need to be ready to defend
any mutants against sociopaths like Maison Eckhardt."

[From within her head, Xena warned, "Careful, Angela.  Somehow, this
man knows something."]

"What does that have to do with me?" she insisted, studying his face.

"Your husband has special abilities.  He and your children need
protection," he explained.

"Trust me, he's quite capable of taking care of himself," she
countered.  "If anyone's foolish enough to make him angry, well let's
say they better have a good life insurance policy.  And, if you're
threatening our daughters, Dr. Zero, either one of us can account for
ourselves rather well.  There is one way to tell if you're speaking
the truth.  Hold still."    With her mental powers, she surveyed his
thoughts and found that he was telling the truth.  

Adam smiled.  "You're a mutant too."

She nodded, "And I'm sorry for doubting you.  I'm...."  She winced and
looked about the room.  

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's my husband.  He's been surrounded by goons...in raincoats," she
revealed.  "We have a telepathic link.  Who?"

"GSA agents," he declared.  "I knew Eckhardt was up to something.
Fortunately, I've positioned help around the corner."

"And they'll come too late, Adam," Eckhardt cut in.  Three agents
flanked him.  "I'm stepping things up.  Let's go."

"Excuse me?" she doubted.  "Go where?"

"You're going with us," her father-in-law directed, grabbing her from
behind and producing an oversized gun.  Before she could react, he
placed against the back of her neck, and pulled the trigger, shooting
something sharp into that spot.  

She pulled away from him, feeling a small plastic piece there.
However, more importantly, she couldn't sense Dave anymore.  When she
tried to reestablish the connection, she doubled over in pain.  "What
is this?"

"Something to keep freaks like you in line," the elder Dubois cracked
derisively, grabbing her again.

"Stop it," Adam told him.  "It's true.  You're what they say you are. 
Now, I know why your son is the way he is."

The contractor grinned wickedly.  "You're breaking my heart.  Mr.
Eckhardt, can you get them away from me?"

"With pleasure," the director agreed, motioning to the other two.  

The agents secured them and pushed their prisoners toward the side
door of the auditorium.

At that moment, Lana stuck her head in back of the curtain, and saw
what was going on.  "What are you doing?"  When the third agent had
grabbed her, she exclaimed, "Let me go!"

"No, my Dear," Eckhardt disagreed.  "I'm afraid I can't do that.  Mr.
Dubois, let's go."

"Right," he agreed, handing the other the gun.  "Thank you for
allowing me to do that."

"You're welcome," Eckhardt replied evenly.  As long as the man didn't
overstep himself, the director would be glad to let Dubois entertain
himself.  Looking about, he started toward the exit himself.

****

Steve glanced around the room for the twentieth time, still feeling
tense about things.  Then, he noticed that Lana wasn't in her seat.  A
moment later, he saw Angie, Adam, and the teenager being pushed out
the door.  "Damn it!" he hissed, pulling out his pistol.  "Schanke!
It's happening!"

"What's Angie doing?  The talk's supposed to start in five minutes!"
Natalie wondered.

"What's going on?" Dr. Fishburne asked.  "Agent Petersen, where are
they going?"

"I don't know, but I'd say we've got trouble," Steve guessed.
"Natalie, stay down!"

"Be careful," she advised.

"Count on it," he told her, running for the situation followed closely
by Schanke.  "Dave, where are you?"

****

Across campus, Winnie glanced at the intruders surrounding her, the
professors, and the students.  Why was it that every time David was
involved with something, danger soon reared its head?  She still
remembered the witch's attacks.  Now, a seemingly good opportunity
turned into an ugly situation as well.

Dave, for his part, had remained silent for a long minute, surveying
the situation.  Now, he demanded, "What are you getting at?  And who
are you to ask me that?"

"We're the enforcers of genetic purity," Sanderson spat. "Take him!"

The professor hesitated for an instant, considering the consequences
of exposing himself in front of these kids but, given all of the
scenarios, he had to do it.  Due to her vows of pacifism, Eve wouldn't
strike back nor could Winnie.  Rushing forward, he waded into the GSA
agents.   Allowing their bodies to cover him, he started ripping off
blasts, scattering them in all directions.

The agents stood up slowly and advanced again.

Seeing that he had cleared the way for the door, he told Winnie, "Get
them out of here!  Go!"

She nodded and guided the students out of there.  Glancing back, she
called, "Dr. Messenger!"

The Amazon Princess hated to leave, but she had to find Francesca.
Something awful was happening, and reinforcements were needed badly.
"I'll be back," she promised, following the group.

Wrapped up in the battle, the medievalist ignored her.  Then, he felt
Angie's pain as the governor sent a shockwave through her and then,
him.  "Arrgh!" he hissed.  Then, just before the link went dead, he
saw something horrible through her eyes.

His father had shot her.

"Damn that bastard!" he bellowed, feeling the darkness beginning to
surge upward.  Now that they were alone, he began to openly use his
powers, picking the men off one by one.  Looking at the stunned men,
he roared, "What's my father doing with my wife?"   He began to summon
another pulse.

Using his own powers, Sanderson managed to sneak up behind Dave.  With
great quickness, he knocked the professor down from behind and slammed
a governor into his neck.  "Got you!"

Feeling the weird sensation from the plastic device, the medievalist
trembled a bit.  "Get off of me!" he yelled, smacking the agent in the
jaw.  Rising to his feet, he advanced on his attacker.  "What the Hell
did you do?"

"Something to keep you in line," the head attacker crowed, producing a
remote control and pressing a button on it.

Suddenly, pain blazed through Dave's head, rocking his equilibrium.
He staggered and fell to his knees under the blazing agony.
"Keep...me in...line?" he stammered.

"Sure," another agent laughed.  "Your father's waiting for you."

"My father," he spat through another wave of pain, clutching his gut
through the ordeal.  His mind was on the verge of shutting down.  

["Grrahhh!" the Child screamed.  "Enough bullshit!  Let's show'em how
we like pain.  Let me out!"]

"G...Go," Dave slurred, collapsing to the floor.  But, as he did so,
he released the floodgates, unleashing his dark counterpart.

"This is too easy," the third agent smirked, unaware of what was going
on inside of their quarry's head.  "Now, he's babbling.  Let's take
him back to Geneomax."

As three of the agents grabbed him, the Child snickered wickedly.
Then, his left eye opened and he let out a low growl.  "Ah said, let
go!" he ordered, emitting another burst and knocking out his
attackers.  "Now, where's the Little Woman?  Tell me!" he roared,
staring savagely into Sanderson's eyes.

The other man's psychic powers deduced what Eckhardt had been getting
at.  After his attempts to "dissuade" the other via his abilities had
failed, the telepath turned up the setting on the remote.

The increased setting drove the Child into a frenzy.  Snarling, he
backhanded the telepath across the room, stunning him.  

"Lit..tle Wo...man," he muttered, trying to form the words.
"Wea...pons."  Bursting from the room, he ran around the corner.  Even
in his rage, he sensed the right office and guessing at the key,
opened the door on the third attempt.  Within a second, he had his
gear and the bow, and was on his way back down the hallway.

Lydia walked out of the departmental office, wondering about the noise
when she heard the banshee-like scream.  "Oh no," she gasped before
seeing him come down the hall, face all contorted in rage, snarling
like a mad dog, and saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth.

"Dave, stop!"

 "Not...Dave," he growled, bursting by her, through the glass door and
northward.   While he didn't understand a great deal, somehow the
Child knew that he needed to get to the Medical Center to settle
matters and that's what he would do.  Upon reaching Speedway and
seeing the cars whizzing up and down the busy street, he bellowed his
displeasure and, riding the wave of pain from the governor, used his
powers to levitate over the street, not caring about the consequences
of his act.  A fresh wave of agony hit him, almost dropping him
halfway across, but he managed to reach the other curb.  After a
minute, he resumed his advance, contemplating what he would do to his
father when he finally got a hold of him.
   
Chapter 14

Eve and Winnie guided the group out of the building, urging them
toward the Main Library.  "Go!" she ordered.  "We'll meet you there!"

Just then, Clark's enhanced hearing picked up a peculiar noise.  "Dr.
Messenger, what's that?"

Winnie told him, "Never mind!  We need to keep moving!"

However, Eve grasped his arm firmly, asking, "What did you hear?"

"A scream almost like that of a wild animal," he noted.

From the upstairs window, she heard it as well.  The change had
happened again.  "Come on!" she directed, guiding him away from the
group.  Heading toward the side entrance, they saw Dave fully armed
and focused, running northward.  She noted the familiar expression on
his face.  Somehow, those men had caused this turn of events.

"Eve!" Lydia called, hurrying toward them.

"Lydia, where's he going?" Eve inquired.

"I don't know," she shrugged.  "I heard the ruckus down the hall.
Then, I saw him come out of his office, snarling and growling,
struggling with his speech.  He didn't even stop.  What happened?"

"We were attacked," the Religion professor recounted.  "Dave got us
out of the room.  The other students went with Winnie Henderson over
to the library.   Why don't you go over there with them?  Meantime,
Clark and I have other business."  Grasping his hand, she pulled him
back toward the mall area.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Back to the Foreign Languages Building.  Come on," she advised.

Even if he didn't understand why, the young man hurried, or at least,
appeared to hurry, after her.


****

Francesca sat in her office, examining a manuscript.  The class had
been a good one.  She enjoyed interacting with her students as well as
their visitors.  "They seem like bright kids," she smiled.

"Francesca!" Xena's voice called.

"What?  Xena?" she asked, looking about.

In front of her desk, the Warrior Princess's image appeared with a
grim expression chiseled across her face.  "We have a situation.
Angela and your guest have been kidnapped.  I need to speak to
Gabrielle if that's okay."

"Why didn't she just change into you?" the professor asked, getting
out of her chair.

"She didn't have the chance," the Thracian warrior stated.  "David's
father hit her with something strange.  I'm still with her, but she
can't use her own powers."

"Madonna!" Francesca exclaimed.  Grasping the full implications of the
situation, she concentrated and, in a flash, Gabrielle stood in her
place, whirling her staff.  

"Where are they?" the Bard Queen inquired.

"At the healing place," the Warrior told her.  "Come on!"  They looked
about and, seeing that the hallway was empty, bolted out of there.  As
they reached the bottom of the stairs, they saw Eve and Clark running
toward them.  

"Eve!" the bard called.

"Gabrielle!  We've got trouble!" her daughter advised.

Xena frowned.  What was this, another of Ares' plots?  "No time to bat
that one around now," she told herself.  

Clark's eyes went wide when he saw the blonde newcomer.  Even in
Smallville, the news of her exploits with Xena was big time news and
legend.  "You're Gabrielle, aren't you?"

"No time now," she deadpanned. "Now, let's go.  Your girlfriend and my
friend are in trouble up there." Turning, she started toward Speedway
herself followed closely by Eve.

He sighed.  To use his own powers down here would risk exposure, but
with Lana's life on the line, he had no choice.  In a flash, he was
gone, running at supersonic speed toward the Medical Center.

****

Meantime, in his loft, Nick sat up from his slumber.  His face was
drenched with blood droplets, his breathing was rapid, and his head
rang like the bells of Notre Dame.  "Dave?  What's going on now?"
Then, he remembered that today was Angie's speech.  "Something must've
happened."  Picking up the phone, he dialed his partner's cell phone
number.

"Schanke, pick it up!" he snarled, feeling that something was
dreadfully wrong.

"Schanke here.  Who's this?" the detective replied.

"Schanke, it's Nick.  What's going on?"

"Nick! Man-o-man, am I glad it's you!  Listen, Buddy, I know it's
still daylight, but we're pinned down here at the UMC.  Steve and
Natalie are here too.  If you can help, we'd appreciate it."

Then, he heard Natalie add, "Nick!  They've grabbed Angie, a young
girl, and one of the panelists.  They're men in raincoats and dark
glasses.  Some of them have us stuck here."

The vampire detective looked about the room.  His clock read 3:15PM,
and the sunlight taunted him by streaming in through the crack in his
blinds across the room.  But, he needed to get to his friends.
Somehow, he had to find a way.  

At that moment, mist appeared in the corner of the room, allowing
Deirdre to enter the scene.  She rubbed her head and looked panicked
as well.  "Detective Miles," she greeted.  "Pardon the intrusion, but
we have a problem!"

He grinned.  Somebody had heard his thoughts and delivered.  "Nat,
give me a few minutes.  I'll be right there!"  Disconnecting, he
turned to the young priestess and asked, "Deirdre, what is it?"

"Mama and Papa are in trouble.  We need to get over there," she told
him.  "Unfortunately, we don't have time for you to change."  Waving
her hands, she cast a spell, clothing Nick in his work attire.
"There!" she smiled.  "All set!"

"Almost!" he directed, running down the stairs.  If he was going to
fight, he needed blood first.  Reaching the fridge, he grabbed one of
the green bottles there and guzzled half of it down.  "Now, I'm
ready," he told her, putting it back.

"Good," she smiled.  "Let's go."  Willing up her portal, she allowed
the former Crusader to step through.

"Deirdre!  What is it?" Alyce's voice called from the top of the
stairs.

"We have trouble," the priestess told her.  "Wait until sunset and
then, get yourself over to campus.  I'll be in touch."  With that, she
stepped through the doorway, closing it behind her.

For her part, the curator rushed back to her room and started laying
her clothes out.  Although she still had about four hours, she wanted
to be ready.

Chapter 15

Meantime, the Mutant X team was coming down the stairs inside of the
medical center.  It had taken some doing, but they had landed their
ship on the roof.  Despite Adam's request, the silence from his
comlink told them that trouble was brewing.

About halfway down, Emma winced, "Argh!  Guys, he's changed!  The
darkness!"

"What?" Shalimar asked.  "What about it?"

"He's been attacked by the GSA.  I see him, chained around the neck,
but he's fighting it."

"They've put a governor on him," Jesse interpreted.  "What do you mean
fighting it?"

"Somehow, he's using his powers," she told him.  "The pain is feeding
his darkness.  We need to help him!" Focusing below, she forced
herself to "feel" what was going on below.  "The GSA's struck down
there too."

Jesse looked down the winding cone of stairs.  The entrance to the
auditorium was right beneath them.  "I'm going," he declared, turning
intangible and phasing through the layers.

"Count me in too!" the feral added, leaping into the abyss.  Landing
every six floors, she made it in three stops.

"Come on!" Emma urged, grabbing Brennan and hurrying down the
remaining steps.  Whatever was going on would require immediate
assistance.


****

Once he had reached the bottom floor, Jesse glanced about.  The doors
were locked, but that was no trouble for him.  Phasing again, he
stepped into the auditorium and saw his worst nightmare.  The audience
was huddled in the middle of the room.  Off to the side, four people
with guns were training them on the GSA agents across the area from
them.

"Shalimar, we've got a hostage situation here!" he reported into the
comlink.  Then, turning himself rockhard, he advanced on the agents,
looking for answers.

"Coming in!" she replied, kicking the doors in.  As her eyes turned
yellow, signifying the dominance of her other nature, she started
toward the agents as well.

The rest of the GSA men rushed into the area, bringing their total to
twenty.  Bagg