TITLE: Surrender, Part 4-Madness Overall Series: The Green Hills of Home Author: Valerie Shearer Contact: thenightbird@earthlink.net Series: DS9 Part 1/60(Ch) Rating: R Codes:Angst,B/Ez,Ob's,K/O,AU,Post-War Surrender Part 4 - Madness Chapter 23 *** Sssssrrrrrrrrooopm! Kukalaka slides open the gate, and we give a final deep bow of farewell. Raggedy Ann runs up to Kukalaka, holds him tight and kisses him. "Save us from the Martians," she says, tilting her head a little, the yarn braids sliding together. Mum, her spots pale, takes my hand. "Jules will save us. He is the Avenger." Raggedy Andy stands back, pulling Raggedy Ann to him. "And Kukalaka will keep him safe," he declares. Kukalaka swears, resolutely, "I will always save the Avenger." Mum comes closer and I'm afraid she's going to kiss me. I love my mummy but Jules the Avenger hates to be embarrassed. She puts something in my hand, my lucky stick. "You forgot this," she says, clasping my hand, but that's all. I store it in the pocket of my Avenger suit. "You may have saved us, Mummy. This will keep us safe." "Always keep it with you, Avenger," she says. She and the dolls part and Miles appears. He lifts the big heavy disassembler and I slip it over my arm. Kukalaka takes his and we wait as the magic dust is poured inside. We climb up the ladder, past the gate and into the darkness. Jules the Avenger always saves the day. Way off in the distance, the tripod lumbers towards us, not knowing a whole city hides underneath the ground. We crawl close to the earth, sliding through soft branches of red weed, keeping our dissassemblers low so the glow of the magic dust won't be seen. My suit keeps me warm, and Kukalaka, being a stuffed bear doesn't notice the cold. The tripod is looking for food. The Martians are getting hungry. We scurry along under the thick branches to the special place. We lure them there with food, and the Avenger and his bear take revenge. There are not so many of them now. Jules the Avenger gets bored some times. He has to be an ordinary boy. Kukalaka hates just being a stuffed bear and always gets Jules in trouble. Mummy gets this look on her face that means no story that night. The tripod howls in the wind, and the red leaves rustle around us. Their musty smell is everywhere. Mummy will make me take a bath and *wash* the Avenger suit. Kukalaka pushes away some big branches, and I slide into the special place. He finger talks to me, pointing at the Martians, and we get ourselves in place. The disassemblers are ready, the magic dust glowing bright. The tripod dances over the weeds faster now, the food visible. The sacrifices, the bad ones who were going to run to the Martians and tell, cower in the cage. The Martians come closer, their shadow over us now. The tripod opens, the slimy hand reaching out for the sacrifices, almost touching them. Kukalaka pulls the cord and the sacrifices fall into their big cage, the one we keep them in when we don't need them. My disassembler is glowing now, pointing at the tripod. Kukalaka holds his higher, the glow lighting our hiding place. The glow covers us, shields us and I am ready. I point my finger, and declare loudly, calling on all the magic in the world, "I am Jules the Avenger, and the bad ones will be avenged." My disassembler opens and a stream of magic dust shoots through the air, Kukalaka's as well, and we are shoved flat on the ground under the glow. A blackness separates us from the destruction, the tripod falling into pieces, the Martians torn limb from alien limb, head and hands and other parts shredded apart. The tripod tears itself to scraps, and the magic dust glows with bits of Martians and Tripod and red weed, gradually fading in silence as the magic is used up. The pieces fall all around us, on us and we rise slowly as it is done. I shake the bloody hunks of Martian from my suit and the metallic bits fall at my feet. Kukalaka shakes himself and he is clean. We have saved them again. Bursting with pride, resolute with the rightness of our work, I declare to the world the monsters will always be avenged. "Jules the Avenger has spoken. Another monster has been destroyed." We step carefully over the wreckage, and especially the hunks of Martian. The red weed will grow well here, feeding on the blood of the ones who brought it to our world. We will avenge them all until there are none left, and Jules will be bored again. I climb down the ramp, Kukalaka behind me, to the cheers of the people. But I can only listen to them for a little while. Mum is here and at least she waits until they've had a chance to hail us as heros before she drags me off to home and my bath. At least she reads us a story and Kukalaka and I dance off to sleep down the yellow brick road. *** Mum is telling us about the Lone Infantryman, the first dreamer who built our world. Alone in his cave hiding from the Martians, he started to dig the first tunnel of the first section of our underground city. Mum thinks it's a great story. I'd rather be Jules the Avenger. But Jules is tired and sick and his stomach hurts. He just wants to sleep and won't let me out. Kukalaka watches over us both, and lets Jules hold him and even cry on his fur. I, the Avenger, dwell in my own glory. I am the master of the magic dust. There haven't been any more tripods, but some humans--or something like humans--stole a lot of the cities food. If only Jules would let me out, I'd avenge them too. But he's too hungry to think of me now. All of them are hungry. I live in the glow of the magic dust, but it doesn't work for mere humans. Even I need something to avenge, some great enemy to defeat. I need the magic dust to glow, the powers to gather, to fully live again. Even magic heros can die when the magic is taken away. But Mum is here, and Miles. He doesn't come unless we have something to do. All excited, Kukalaka pulls away and Jules wakes up. We are Jules the Avenger again. No tripods for a long time, but I am ready for whatever waits above the city. Mum looks worried. "Jules the Avenger is needed again," she says, but not with complete confidence. "It's not a tripod this time. It's people." Jules the Avenger does not harm his own. Why am I called on now? "Someone is trying to break into our food supply," says Miles, tired as always. "You have to stop them, Avenger. Otherwise we will starve." I think of the ones in the cage. They were going to tell the Martians about the city. Would more of our own be so mean to us to take our food? But Jules must eat, Mummy and Miles and the others I protect as well. I will protect them from whatever bad people come. And the magic dust will glow and make me powerful. I rise from my bed, taking my suit from Mum. It is dusty and I clean it until it shines. Kukalaka has taken his disassembler and I take mine. We move through the city this time, towards the outer reaches of our place. I hear the noise before I see it. It's very loud, and we crawl forward slowly, inch by inch, watching as the bad men move among our things, taking crate of stored food after crate, moving them to the outside. I can feel the disassembler glow, feel its energies move through me. I must release it or it will explode on its own. But there is a problem. The magic dust will eradicate the bad men, but the food will be gone too. My magic won't work here. I crawl forward, slowly, under half-tipped crates and in shadows, the glow of the magic dust always shielded from view. The others will have to stop the ones inside. We will destroy the ship they come from. Kukalaka squirms past me, sliding past the gate they've opened to load the ship. We slip into the familiar red weed, still growing but with less vigor than before. Half of it is dead, but it is still excellent cover. She'll wash the suit again. It never feels right after that. And Jules will complain about his bath. I leave during the bath. Avengers don't like them either. The ship comes into view. The men have been loading our crates so fast. The dust will tear all of it to pieces. But some will be left. I point my disassembler, as does Kukalaka. The glow is growing, building, needing a release. I point towards the ship. "I am Jules the Avenger. The bad men will be avenged." The magic dust rises from the disassembler and glides into the small ship. It fills every crevice, every crate they have stolen from us. The white cloud solidifies, begins to swirl. It roars above it, our only shield the dying red Martian weed. Eventually bits of body begin to rain down. And pieces of crates, scraps of what we'd grown and saved so carefully, now all ruined. The red weed will grow well here, for a time. But Jules and Mummy and the others can't eat its leaves. Crawling back inside, the adults have stopped the other bad men, and some of them lie dead on the floor. They throw them outside, with the jumbled mess of body and ship and crates. Eventually the intruders are removed, to a cage or the outside, and the gate closes. Mummy hasn't come. "Jules the Avenger has spoken," I declare, but there is no real victory. "The bad men have been avenged." Miles takes the heavy disassembler from me. I'm full of energy now, full of life, but the others look at the warehouse, all the empty spaces where the food they need to be full of life was before. They depended on the Avenger to save them and he has failed. Mum comes, takes my hand. "You did the best you could, Avenger. Sometimes that is all you can." I go with her, take off the Avenger suit myself without any help. She pours my bath and I stay with Jules this time, even if I hate baths. Jules is afraid, of being hungry and alone and the bad men coming back. But he need not worry. The Avenger will keep him safe. I will never leave him again. *** The people are stick figures in the weed, a woman and four children. The tripod is coming closer, and they vanish under the leaves. Kukalaka bounds ahead, disassembler in hand. "Come Avenger, save them!" he bellows. The Avenger is tired. Jules wants to sleep. But there are people to save. We crawl forward in the weed, underneath until we reach the mound where the woman and children are hiding. Kukalaka will draw the tripod away and we'll hit it from both sides. The woman looks like Mummy, spots trailing down the side of her face. But she is grateful to find us there. "Avenger," she declares, "save us as you have saved the rest." "I shall save them all," I vow. The disassembler is glowing, ready. The tripod spots Kukalaka off to the side and turns. I aim and call on the dust, as the light flies up from the barrels and the tripod becomes a swirl. The pieces of tripod spin and grow smaller and smaller. "He wants him now," says a smooth voice, one the Avenger knows, one that's bad. The dream fades. A man comes up to Jules, grabs him suddenly and Jules can't get away. Jules is hungry and weak. Even the Avenger isn't so strong right now. But Kukalaka is behind us, with dust-filled disassembler at the ready. I love that dream. It is our favorite one, when the woman/mother thanks us with a hug. I'm mad at the men for missing the end of my dream. We get towed to a room, after a long walk. They make me take a bath. I get clean clothes and slip on the Avenger suit on top of them. Then they drag me along to the next place, to the big bad man. Kukalaka is ready. The dust is impatient this time. It glows already, lighting the hallway. We are ushered into a plain, if crowded office. Another man, the evil one, sits at a desk. "Have you considered my offer?" he asks. I don't talk. I know better than to talk to evil ones. But Kukalaka gives me my disassembler, carefully balancing it on my shoulder. I give him the eye, the one the Avenger fixes on the worst of bad men to focus the magic. "Not talking, I guess. I thought you'd like to know I've signed an order for your execution. One of your children died in transit, the older ones are still alive. But your wife was injured. She won't last long. You'll be executed the day she dies." What is he talking about? The Avenger is magic and cannot die. Jules is too little to have children. He's trying to be scary, but the Avenger isn't fooled. Jules is a little scared, but I am there to keep him safe. As long as I am a part of him, he is magic too. "Your threats do not touch me, evil one," I tell him. "You cannot kill me. I am magic, a fairy creature." He pauses, impressed with my powers. "Magic? Really, what kind of magic do you have?" "I will destroy you with the magic dust, swirl you into wet messy pieces." "Oh, I suppose my staff will have to clean up the mess." He looks me over. "All right, destroy me. Try it." He is amused. His evil smile makes my anger rise, the dust swirling even before I can call on it. I waste no time. "I am Jules the Avenger. The evil man will be avenged." The dust swirls out of the disassembler, surrounding him, twirling round and round. But he remains whole. I stare, astonished. "Maybe I'm magic too," he says. Then he stops. "Jules, is that your name now." I know not to talk to strangers. But his magic defeated mine. The dust has faded and the floor glows around him at his feet. "I am Jules the Avenger," I say, no real energy. "I save the innocent and destroy the Martians." "Martians? How interesting, from one of those books you have." He watches me, suddenly interested. "How old are you Jules?" "Five," I say, "almost six." "A child. I can't have a child executed." He looks at the big men who dragged us here. "Send him home. I'm rescinding the order. Let them see what happens when you defy big evil magic." They take a firm hold of Jules, who despite a few struggles stops fighting. Kukalaka takes the disassembler, and we move down another corridor. They stop at a door, and say magic words so it will open. I'm picked up and tossed in the back of a transport, this one a cage. Kukalaka squeezes inside, losing one disassembler. It gets dark after the door is closed. Kukalaka sits next to me. "I will protect you, Avenger," he declares. I'm so tired. The glow of the dust did not infuse me enough. Jules is hungry, worried about Mummy, and scared. Kukalaka moves closer and we can feel the thing lift and fly away from the evil one. *** "Be strong, Avenger, we will win." Kukalaka has such big arms. His fur is so soft. The cage is so bumpy but he keeps me safe. We lift and tilt and soar like a bird, or maybe like dinner inside a bird. The Avenger is still magic, but it's not too strong now. The dust is pale, solid. The bad man took away all its power. We're flying away from the bad man. But it's so much fun. Even little Jules forgets to be scared for a while and likes the pretend he's a bird. But he misses his mother. And his father is gone off somewhere. And the Avenger can keep him company, but not much else right now. When there is someone to be saved, a wrong to be avenged, then the dust will come back to life. Kukalaka is guarding the dust, waiting for the time. At least stuffed bears and magic Avengers don't eat--or get sick when they don't have enough to eat. Then the bird slows, lazily dropping to land. Kukalaka has the disassembler ready, just in case, but Jules is asleep. We hit the ground and start to bounce along, waking him. But he's excited. He doesn't try to sit up, comfortable in the bears arms, but he smiles. He wants to go home. Maybe Mummy will be there. It's so scary when Mummy is hiding. The Avenger cannot understand. The Avenger stays inside, but knows Mum will always be there. Just as long as she doesn't make me take a bath. The bouncing stops, and the cage is opened. It's later, almost dark. One of the mean men pulls out Jules, carrying him when he doesn't walk, Kukalaka behind us. But Jules fidgets. He knows where this place is. He's home. He's too excited to let the Avenger out. Mummy is sitting on her blankets, not looking at the bad men. They drop him at her feet, small forms moving under blankets. Jules is so happy he starts to bawl. "Mummy," he says. But I can see her face. She cradles him, slowly wrapping her arms around him as he cries out his relief. She isn't lost. "Julian," she says, a mixture of fear and anger in her eyes, as well as love. Who is Julian? Jules starts babbling, hardly managing to form the words right. "Mummy, bad men hurt." Then there is shock in her eyes. The Avenger and Kukalaka wait until Jules will let them near. She touches him tenderly, holding him close. "Mummy won't let them hurt you," she says, but it is so sad. Jules curls up in her arms, crying until he falls asleep. But the Avenger watches as others come near. A thin man, reddish hair, shaking hands. "How is he?" "I don't know. He calls me mummy," she says still shaken. "Be his mother then." He is very sad, shaking more, running away. "He's an example." A tall man, sandy haired, an angry, scared look in his eyes. "He's what you get when you don't obey them." He wanders off, shaking his head. A sandy haired woman, carrying a young baby, a blanket slung over her shoulder as she's nursing. "Ezri, I'm sorry about Carl. You know how he is." She glances back at the sandy haired man. "We'll . . . manage." Mummy is so strong. The Avenger is embarrassed for Jules, though. Avengers don't cry. The Avenger is jealous of Jules. The Avenger needs Mum too. Kukalaka waits a little ways away. Jules finally wakes up and it's dark, everyone cuddled under blankets. The Avenger likes the blankets, and the warmth. It was never warm with the bad men. "Mummy," says the Avenger, looking her in the eyes. "I will save you from the bad men too." Mummy looks confused, then very sad. Why should she be sad? She's always been so proud of the Avenger. The Avenger is sleepy. It's so nice to cuddle up to Jules and the others, and mostly to Mummy. It's better to be warm and comfortable and home. But then, surrounded by comforting blankets, Jules is almost asleep again when an older woman comes to sit next to Mum. She takes her hand. She didn't come and stare, didn't look at all. Mum holds her hand as the woman speaks. "He's alive, Ezri. Don't ask for more, not now. Look what almost happened to you." "We're here to come back to," Mum says, looking at Jules. "But he's been . . . " "Hurt. I know. But if he's here, he has a chance to get better." "There is that." But Mum is so sad. "Look, we need to check. We bled you." Mum pauses, looking at Jules. "I know. Not that it matters much." She takes his hand. "I'll do it in a little while." She shifts around under the blankets. "I wonder, maybe it might help," she says, reaching under the matts, pulling out a book. Jules stirs, looks at Mum. "Mum, a story?" he asks sleepily. "It's too dark to read," she says. But the other woman nods at her. "Maybe Dorothy can tell you one." Jules eyes brighten in anticipation, as if he already knows Dorothy. But I forget about the mystery as she tells the story, of a man with a dream who pulls a sword from a stone and becomes a king, and in time brings peace to his land. I don't know Dorothy, but I can't wait for the next story. I'm too sleepy for one now, and she squeezes Mum's hand and goes to her own blankets. Jules falls asleep, and Mum holds him as we all rest for the night. This isn't home. This isn't like home. But it's so much better than the place with the bad ones. *** The noise is loud, but most of the people are used to it. Jules isn't scared but sits up, looking confused. Mummy is busy with the other children, dressing herself in warm clothes, and talking with the other big people. The Avenger is so tired. Jules curls up and falls back asleep before breakfast. Jules eats his breakfast like a feast, with such a huge bowl, and a piece of fruit. Mummy gives him the fruit when he's done with the soup. His tummy will hurt today, but he is happy for the moment. Then a man in a scary suit comes in, standing next to us. "He's sick," she says. "He can't even stand up." The man looks at Jules. "Excused for now. Maybe a week." Jules isn't asleep anymore. He's hiding under the blanket, eyes wide open, wanting the bad man to go. The Avenger shares the wish. But the dust is glowing, just a little, still shining when he leaves. The Avenger feels better already. Mummy sits down next to Jules. "Julian?" she says. "Whose that, Mummy?" I ask. She takes a sudden hesitant breath. "Just a name. I missed you." "Jules the Avenger had work to do," I declare. "Jules needs to rest now, sleep some more. I expect you to stay in the blankets today. No wandering. You're sick. You have to get well." The Avenger is too tired to avenge anything right now. If Jules is sick he has to get well. "I'll be good," I tell her. "Good," she says, but she's worried. "I have to go." She looks towards the other children. "Molly, Kara, keep an eye on him." They are looking at me now, the two girls attentive and solemn. "Yes, mother," they say, some great sadness in their eyes. They aren't much older than Jules. But they don't look like children. The smaller girl, tousled blonde hair tangled into a mess, stares at him from under a blanket. "Dada," she says. Who does she mean? Mum is alone, just her and the children. Jules is almost asleep when another woman comes up to Mummy, her blanket held around a swelling belly. "Don't worry about him, Ezri. I'll take care of him." "Are you sure you can, your feeling a bit better?" says Mummy, concerned. "I'll take care of him. I've . . . done this before." She and Mummy share a nod, and Mummy ruffles my hair. "Jules, Aunt Nancy is going to take care of you. Do what she says, and get lots of rest." Aunt Nancy smiles, a very nice smile. I think I like Aunt Nancy. I know why she's Mummy's friend. "Would you like me to read you a story, one that will make it easier to forget you're sick?" she asks with a twinkle in her eye. The Avenger loves stories. This one is the best, with pirates, true love, adventure, torture, honor and heroes. The Avenger almost forgets that the dust is still barely bright. I'm too busy waiting as Buttercup is dragged up the cliff, as the Dread Pirate Roberts defeats the man with the sword, the poison and the words. I'm much to interested in the six fingered man. Every world has something to avenge. I want Aunt Nancy to read all day, but Jules is too sleepy. "Time for a nap, Jules." He's already half asleep, and taking me with him. The dust is still so pale, I haven't the strength to rise. I let sleep take us both. But just as I fade I want to go back to the steep mountains and the Princess. I am the Avenger. This place and the bad people who make Mummy go are not my home. *** "Mummy, why do you have to go?" I ask. "No choice, Jules. You look a lot better." I still want to know why Mummy and I are here, but she won't tell me. "Can we go home now?" She stares ahead. "Someday," she says, sad, looking away. "You're too sick to go anywhere anyway. You've got to get your rest and eat and listen to Aunt Nancy. "She's reading us a book." Mummy gazes back at her. "It a neat book with pirates and this mean Prince. I can't wait for them to get the prince." "That would be nice," she says softly, then takes our empty bowls. "Be good for me. Nancy said you'd walked around a little yesterday." "A little. I got real tired." I wish the dust would brighten. I have hardly the energy to stand, and Jules is just getting over his fever. "Try again today," she says as Aunt Nancy, with Luther behind her, kneels besides me. "I have something for you," says Aunt Nancy. Jules snatches it from her hand. "Kukalaka. I found you," he says, nearly in tears. The Avenger says nothing, just lets him cry out his relief. It's a rag doll. He clutches it to his chest. "Mummy, Kukalaka," he says, holding out the doll. He's suddenly bursting with joy and relief and even Mummy having to go doesn't bother him. "I thought you'd find him," says Mummy. "Now, hold onto him tight so he doesn't get lost again." But Jules is too happy to worry about anything right now. I let him have his moment, believe this doll is his bear. After all, the real Kukalaka is sitting by the door, guarding the disassembler and Jules and I--and Mummy and the rest too. No bad men have come near this morning and he's bored. There's no room for him in the blankets. But I wish he'd at least listen to the story. Jules finally lets me talk, watching as Mummy leaves with the rest. Aunt Nancy hugs Luther, and he pats her tummy. Then she sits next to us. My sisters are still in bed too, waiting. My little brother is smacking his toys together under his blanket. "Can you read more of the story?" I ask, as excited over it as Jules was his bear. I notice that Kukalaka has come closer, sitting just behind me. He's waiting for the story too. "Certainly, how are you doing today?" I love Aunt Nancy. She's so cheerful even if everybody else is all sad. "I'm good. Does the Prince get killed this time?" I ask, waiting for the moment. "I guess we'll have to see," she says. We all grow terribly silent as Westley dies when the Prince rushes the Count. That scream . . . I know that scream. I don't know where I've heard it but I have. Jules is too scared to fall asleep, even if he's sleepy. Kukalaka has inched closer and closer, and even my sisters and some of the other children have come to listen. Instead of just me and Jules, we have a crowd. Aunt Nancy does the accents as our hero's take Westley to Miracle Max, who makes a magic pill that will make him live again. It worries us terribly that it might not last. "Will he die anyway?" I ask. "I guess we'll have to keep reading until we all find out," she says, and some of the children give me an odd look. I think they've heard the story before but they like it anyway. Westley is too weak to do much while they storm the castle. Being recently dead has drained him a lot. But we don't make a sound as she reads, chasing after Inego and the others in our dreams. They have to find the Prince. They have to avenge him. Bad men always get avenged by the good guys. She keep reading though everyone is tired. Her voice is getting quiet, dragging a little here and there, but we don't care. I watch Kukalaka as Inego confronts the six-fingered man. "My name is Inego Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." I can feel the magic building around us, the shimmering so bright it lights the room. The disassembler starts to glow, but in greens and blues. As Inego slides his blade into his father's killer, flashes of red fill the dust, and the glow around us is like sunshine. Now it's the Princes turn. Kukalaka slides forward, our eyes fixed on the book. Aunt Nancy is reading very softly now. Westley has Buttercup tie the monster to a chair, and tells him of all the terrible things he'll do, how every man, woman and child will run in horror from his mutilated form. I can see it all in my head as he tells the Prince. And then he doesn't do it. He lets him go. He lets him live. He rides away on his white horse with Buttercup and Inego and the Giant and lets him go on to live with his disgrace. Doesn't he know that Princes can't be trusted, that they'll always come back and disgrace won't bother him at all. Doesn't he know that the Prince will find him, keep making his life a misery as long as the Prince lives? "He doesn't kill him?" I ask. Aunt Nancy is so tired. She needs to rest. Jules is tired too, and wants to sleep. "He knew he failed. He didn't challenge the Dread Pirate Roberts, but dropped his sword. He'd already proven he was a coward." She smiles, closing up the book. "It's just a story. Now I want everybody to get a nap." Jules is still holding his Kukalaka close, and I suppose I'm tired too. But I'm so mad, and frustrated. The Prince was supposed to *die*. He didn't pay. I am the Avenger. Bad men always pay. It's so bright around us, even with the others drifting back to their own blankets. Kukalaka, my Protector, stands very suddenly, looking around confused. Abruptly, we aren't in the dismal room. The arched door of the Prince's castle rises around us, Kukalaka and me, this time with only one disassembler, its magic dust glowing dark blues and greens, swirling endlessly as if caught in a torrent of energy. I'm so strong now. I can feel the way my hands tingle as I allow him to place it on my arm. I watch while the white horses pound away, taking the Princess and the Pirates, new and retired, one last horse groaning under the giant's weight. The evil count is revenged already, but I know about Princes. They aren't to be trusted. Perhaps he will live a miserable life, knowing how he failed, but he'll just make everyone else miserable too. We go to Buttercups suite. I wait by the door, the Prince still looking about Buttercups room. The dust is excited, glowing, ready to burst out of its holder. Kukalaka steps forward and pushes open the door. He's sitting on her bed, looking at her picture. He doesn't look worried at all. He'll find her again, I'm sure. "Florin will still pay," he says. He's still going to start his war, too. Or so he thinks. He looks up, seeing Kukalaka and I just inside the door. "What's this, some joke?" He puts down the picture, standing and stretching. "I've got work to do." Impatiently signaling with his hand, he frowns. "Out of my way." I stand my ground. His little pixy ears and violet eyes look angry, and I watch as the dust swirls above me in the chamber. "Not now. I am Jules the Avenger. I stop evil and evil men. I will end your terrible reign and you will pay for the zoo of death and all the rest of the bad you've done." "That was Rugen's" he says. "Kept him happy. What is this, a boy and a big stuffed bear trying to *threaten* me?" Kukalaka puffs himself up, staring down the evil one. I hold forth the disassembler, the dust swirling inside in blues and greens with flashes of red. The magic is different here, but there is still magic. "I will destroy your evil with my dust," I declare. He pulls out his sword, having retrieved it before. It's long and sharp, but as it approaches the disassembler the red flashes grow stronger. "Dust?" he says, tapping the disassembler with the point of the sword. The red flashes concentrate, and a quiver of energy glides up the sword. With great surprise, he lets go and it clatters to the ground. He looks alarmed. "I let them go. Without the death of my beloved wife a war with Florin will be difficult. And you *ruined* my sword." A coward. But one that lies. He'll find her again, not leave her be. He'll find another Ruggin to start more wars. I am the Avenger. I must avenge. The door opens, and several of his guards, looking as they nearly lost the battle, push themselves inside. "No sign of them now, but we'll pick them up past the river," comes the report. "You play games with them. Lie to them. You will not change." "I'm a Prince, evil at that. What else do you expect. They made me like this." I look into the violet eyes, stare at the elegant ears. In a way he's right. But Westley and the Princess deserve some peace. He's getting impatient. "Get these creatures out of my way," he tells the guards. They reach for us, but I'm strong now. I slip out of their grasp, extending the disassembler, and flashes of red fire fill the room. The guards instantly crumple into dust. The prince, lit by a red glow all around him, cowers inside it as he shrinks into a lump of amber goo and hardens, leaving behind only a sticky greyish powder. Watching, I'm astonished. Except for the pile of powder that was the Prince, the room is the same. Nothing, even the remains of the food on the table have been touched. If only I'd known this magic before, with our own pirates. I could have made them into dust, but not starved our people. I like the magic in this place. But what I really want is to go home, take Mummy back to the shelter with my friends, see if the red weed is gone, start over again. Somehow, there has to be a way to do that. But where am I? Mummy is here and knows these people. Jules does too, in his own way. But it's not home. The lights fade, the walls vanish and I'm back in the same blanket, except Mummy has come back and is handing me another bowl. Jules wakes instantly, and the food disappears quickly. Then he hugs his mother and goes back to sleep. He's still holding the doll. Mummy is cold and tired and crawls inside the covers with him. I fall into sleep myself. I don't know why I'm here. But at least when I sleep I can go home for a while. *** The noise is too loud, and too early. I watch as the door of this tomb slides open and bad men come. "All the children here," we're told. "At least this tall," he corrects. Children start pulling themselves out from under their warm blankets, standing near the bad men near the door. Yoshi stays behind, but Molly and Kara go. Tessie starts to go but is waved back. I'm ready to but Mummy says no. Another bad man, dressed all neat, walks inside. He looks them over, pointing at all the older, taller children. Molly and Kara remain when he sends the little ones away. "This should be enough. Take them to Warehouse 14. I'll have plenty for them to do." I just watch, eyes wide. Molly and Kara stumble back, crawling under the blankets. Neither of them look up. I hate this place. I just want to go home. Why won't Mummy let us go home now? The food comes, Jules grabbing his bowl and eats as fast as he can. Mummy holds the girls, kissing them while she gets them dressed. "It will be okay, and it's usually warm inside. It's not forever." But her eyes are sad. Molly and Kara don't want to go with the bad men. But the magic isn't strong enough for all of them, not yet. I am wrapped up in the extra blankets, still not well, and the room is so empty when they go, just Aunt Nancy and a few others and the little children. Yoshi comes closer, sitting very near and bouncing around his toys. He babbles nonsense words as he plays. "Would you like me to read to you?" asks Aunt Nancy, sitting next to us. Of course, the Avenger would like a story. But it is so much better with all the others. It wouldn't be the same this way. "It's kind of lonely today. The others would miss the story." "If you'd like," she smiles at me. But she's tired. And something else is wrong. "The Avenger should help these children," I declare. "If only the Avenger could right now." "Hmmm. Maybe you could tell me a story. Tell me about the Avenger. What does he do?" I shrug. Mummy never ask many details. She just cleaned up the mess with the suit. "I avenge the bad men. I saved my people from the Martians." She's not really listening, but looks impressed. "That's quite an accomplishment," she says. "You must be a hero." "No," I tell her. "I was the hero until the Martians stopped coming. Then the pirates tried to steal our food and my magic stopped them, but . . . we lost most of the food too. Everybody was hungry and I guess they blamed me." "I bet they didn't," she says, now paying closer attention. "You think they did because they were hurting, being hungry, but they knew you did what you could. Without you the pirates could have taken it all." "They almost did. My magic didn't work, or not the right way. My disassembler ruined the food too. So I betrayed them." I don't like to think of that. But it was after that that the bad men took me and Mummy away. How were the bad men there? Why did they take us here, to this awful place? "Sometimes it's easy to blame yourself too much. They'll forgive you for making a mistake, if it was even a mistake. I know it must be very hard to be an Avenger, but don't be so hard on yourself." "It was my duty to save them, not make them hungry. I destroyed the food with my magic, not the bad men. Mummy loves me, she'd forgive. But the rest of them, they gave me away. I think. Or the bad men came back and they didn't want me to save them this time." "You'll make it better. You're the Avenger, right? You'll find a better way." She sounds almost like Mummy. "I just want to go home, even if they don't like me. I just want Mummy and I to go home." I'm so tired of this place. I love Aunt Nancy, but she's sick. The bad men took away most of the children today. This is a bad place. I want to leave. I'm tired of being the Avenger right now. She pretends not to notice the tears running down my cheeks. "Home is a good place to be. Sometimes all you have of home is your family, and it's good to at least be with them. You have your mother." What happens to my "sisters" and little Yoshi when we go? I'm worried now, worried for all of them. Mummy is keeping them safe, too, just like I protected her. "Can you go home?" I ask. She turns away and all the false cheer vanishes. "We don't have a home. This is all we have." "Maybe you could come with me," I suggest, trying to comfort her. "That wouldn't work out." She looks away, tears now covering her own face. Her hand is on her belly, and I think of the baby inside that will only have this. I've made her cry. Avengers don't make the people they love cry either. "I'm a bad Avenger," I say. "No, just a scared one. Jules, I've got to lie down. I don't feel well." She's pale. I watch as she makes her way past other blankets, keeping to the pathway between. I hope she's all right. Yoshi is cold and slides in next to me and Kukalaka, falling asleep. I stare at the dingy room for a time, and then the glow comes again. It's different, softer, and it pulls me deep inside. The trees grow around me. The sounds of the animals fill my ears. Buttercup is washing her face in a pool of water when a huge RAUS suddenly attacks her. She jumps down and tries to run but it is too fast. My disassembler is glowing dark greens and blues, and with her scream the red flashes begin, stronger the closer it gets to the RAUS. It flashes bright red, little sparkles of ruby lightening everywhere. Then, without even needing invoking, the red fire sweeps from inside to the giant rat. He twists, caught in a sudden storm, Buttercup underneath. But the red mist never touches her. It shrinks the RAUS to a smaller thing, which explodes into wet messy pieces. As the red fades, they land on the Princess, mostly on her hair. The Man in Black, his sword at ready, is impressed. "Thank you, Avenger. But it did leave a mess." Buttercup is picking pieces of smashed RAUS off her dress, fortunately the same tone of red, but her hair is a disaster. She's looking at both of us, dismayed. "I need to wash my hair now," she mutters. The Man in Black is looking at my disassembler. "May I examine your weapon?" he asks, curious. "You may hold my sword." I know the story of the six-fingered man and understand the great honor I have been granted. As he takes my disassembler I hoist his sword. It is heavy. The elegant handle is too small for my little hand, but I tense every muscle, every fiber of my being alert to keep it from falling. I can see the razor sharp edge glisten in the muted light. But I feel the magic, the power of the sword. It is an instrument of vengeance. Its will and skill has grown with every kill. The Man in Black is invincible when he avenges. He hoists the disassembler high in the air. It sparkles with blue and green swirls, bright flashes of light. Then he pulls back the mask covering his head and face, ruffling his dark hair. "I dinna understand how Westley can stand this thing," he says to himself. Then looking up towards the green swirls, he declares, "This is a fine weapon. Though a bit unbalanced to hold." "Not as fine as this," I add. It can feel his pride, and a shimmer flows through my hand. "Nor does it have the power." "My father was a master." Inego speaks with respect. "He has been revenged but there will never be another like him." I can feel the pain inside him through the sword, still raw even after the Counts death. Father wore that look before he vanished into the red weed one day and didn't return. Mummy still awaits him, but the red weed is dead now, my father gone with it. Buttercup is still picking at her hair. "When is Westley going to get back?" she whines. We ignore her again. He had gone with Kukalaka and Fezzik to arrange for his own retirement as the Dread Pirate Roberts, leaving us to safeguard Buttercup in the fireswamp. She is a beautiful Princess. I hope he finds that enough. Inego exchanges weapons with me. I still have the power of the sword flowing within, and when I take the disassembler the magic dust glows a sudden bright blue/green and in a flash I understand. This is new magic, different magic. The touch of the sword has taught me its secrets. My disassembler is changed now, filled with a special magic from this place. Inego puts away his sword and tries on the mask again. "I think it is too small," he says, removing it. "I knew someone who could have fit it perfectly." I don't know what place the face comes from, but it is grey and scaly, dark hair combed back carefully, and the eyes full of challenge. I don't know what this being was, but I know he is gone. He was a friend of my father's. The magic helps me remember. Some day it will help me avenge him too. Inego stashes the mask around the hilt of his sword. "When I do reach my new ship, I'll need officers. Would you like to work for the future Dread Pirate Roberts? I hear you can get very rich." Buttercup interrupts the conversation again, this time to complain about her hair as she tries to pull out clumps of drying RAUS. But I hardly hear her either. For now, I know why I'm here. I know why Jules and Kukalaka and Mother and I have been brought here. It was to learn this new magic. I can avenge the pirates of our world without damaging my own now. I can truly save them. No more will the dust destroy all it touches, only that which is evil. It is time to go home. But Inego is waiting. "I must say no. It is time for me to return home, for my own destiny." He watches the disassembler as it glows in beautiful swirls of color. "Yes, just as I knew what I must do." We reflect on the colors while Buttercup tries to wash out the mess, getting herself sopping wet and ruining the water. But Westley and the others return, Buttercup moving towards him. He slides out of her grasp. Inego explains about the RAUS, and he bows to me. "You have served us well," says Westley, "But I see it is time for you to go." He bows to Kukalaka who tries to return the bow, but just stumbles a bit. Farewell," he says, as the magic glow grows pale and I am back in the bad place, still wrapped in blankets. Mummy has a bowl for me. "You have to work tomorrow," she says, tired. "You'll be going with Luther. Eat now, and get all the rest you can." The blue/green glow is still there, the disassembler casting a faint light, but all the brightness has faded. The Avenger isn't afraid of helping, doing chores, but these men aren't talking about chores. Molly and Kara are eating, slowly, but look so tired. I don't want to be part of this world, with its hard rules. I want to go home to my ruined world of dead red weed and take my chances. But Mummy won't tell me how. She is too tired at night to talk like she used to. She's too sad. I finish my food, eat my fruit, and crawl under the blanket again, holding the disassembler. Maybe the dust will know the way home. *** Jules is very scared, but I tell him we are magic. The bad ones can't hurt us. But it doesn't help much as we follow the guards in the cold morning. Luther is in front, keeping his eyes on the people around him. He is dressed in warm clothes, but his hands still shake. He's afraid of the bad men. Someone hurt him very much. Nobody seems to notice Kukalaka walking next to us, the disassembler in hand. It glows a dark blue/green with flashes of red. Jules watches him now and again, as he tries to keep up with the adults. He's still not really well. But he's gotten all the time he's going to to get better. I want to go home. I want Mummy to say it's time. The magic is ready. Why are we still here? They stop in front of a big door, which slides open very quietly. We go inside. There are big barrels of some kind of grain, a chute to load them into a wheelbarrow of sorts, and storage bins built into the walls. The doors close, leaving Luther, Jules, Kukalaka and I inside. Luther shakes his head, as if to clear it. "Ok, kid. I'll load the barrels. You just steady them under the chutes." He moves the wheel barrel under the first chute, and has me hold it still. Then he climbs up a ladder on the side and starts to shovel the grain inside. But it's heavy. I'm not real steady. I slip and some of it spills. "Get this cleaned up, put it in the barrel and I mean all of it. If they find any of it spilled you'll lose your dinner. We have to get this done before we get any more." There is so much of it. I crawl around the floor, the barrow jammed under the chute, while he works. Sometimes it spills and he makes me pick up every grain. I try to help with the wheel barrow, but it's too tall. Hours go by. I'm hungry, I need to nap, and it's boring cleaning up the floor over and over. But Luther is worse. He's shaking badly by the time we fill the walls. He doesn't talk to me at all except to tell me where things spilled. When we're done I know why Molly and Kara were so tired. I just want to go back and let Jules eat and sleep. But Luther pushes a button, the door sliding open. The barrels are empty and the floor is clean. The bins in the wall are sealed. But Luther is very tense. It's getting dark. He pulls me back inside, standing behind the door. All the hesitation and shaking is gone. I can tell how scared he is. "Listen, kid. This is important. You do just what I say. Don't make a sound. We're going to be late if we go the regular way, so I'm using a shortcut. We aren't supposed to be there, so don't make any noise." He stares me in the eyes. "Get it?" Worried, I nod. But Kukalaka will protect us if need be. Then Kukalaka gives me the disassembler. I am the Avenger, but I can protect too. We slide inside a fence, and past a small gate. Luther is tense, hurried. I try to keep up, but it's hard. Then I see it. Two men, guards, and a prisoner. The prisoner is stumbling along, his face all bloody. The blood isn't red, and he isn't like us, but here that doesn't matter. The bad men drag him along and he falls. I am the Avenger. I must avenge. The dust is flashing red, impatient. Luther stops, pulling me to the ground. His attention is on the men, as they drag the man back to his feet and hit him again, hard, in the face. He falls, not moving. "Is it dead?" asks one of them. The other bends over and checks. "Not yet. He's going to a holding cell. We can toss the body in the morning." I sit up, aiming the disassembler. They will cease to hurt and kill forever. Then, abruptly, Luther yanks me flat again. The alarm in his manner stops me from moving. I freeze as they start to drag the now unconscious man away. Luther is hardly breathing as they come near us. The disassembler is charged and ready. It would be the perfect chance. But something in Luther's eyes stops me. We don't move until they are gone. Then, slowly, we crawl away. We slide in the building at the end of the women, caught up in crowd. Luther collapses on his blankets, while I find Mummy. But she goes to Aunt Nancy first. "Stay here," she tells me, her voice worried. I am handed a bowl, and Jules wouldn't let me do anything else but eat. When the bowls are collected and it's dark, I'm tired and worn. I just want to sleep, go home to the red weed and freedom. But my sisters have been sent away. Mother and Aunt Nancy and Luther are all around me, and he's mad now. "Just what do you think you were doing?" he asks. "I was going to avenge what they were doing to that man." I stare him in the eye. "I am the Avenger. It is what I do." He slaps me, hard. It hurts and I expect Mummy to stop him, but she doesn't. "Do you have any idea what would have happened if we'd been found there? Do you know what it's like to be locked up in a little box until they get around to shooting you. They don't waste any food on you either. Why should they since your going to die anyway." Little flashes of panic hit me, tight little rooms and nightmares. But I am the Avenger, and he is wrong. "They were doing bad things. I could have stopped them." I still stare him in the eyes. Then, another slap, harder this time. "How do you think you were going to do that?" "With my disassembler. I have magic dust. It was ready." I am calm. He is still angry, ready to hit me again. But Aunt Nancy stops him. Mummy takes my hand, looks me in the eye, her voice hard. "All they had to do was find you there. They'd kill you and deport us. You shouldn't have been there, but I *told* you to listen to Luther, do what he said. Didn't I?" "I had to avenge them," I try to say, Jules too scared to comfort now. Tears are running down my cheeks, and my voice is not so strong. "Who?" demands Luther, keeping his distance. "You'll get all of us killed if you're not careful. I don't care if you're living in some delusion. I have a wife and she's going to have a baby. It's not going to be in some hellhole they sent her because of you." His tone is slow, threatening. Jules can't take it anymore. "Mummy, I didn't want to." He's sobbing now. "He made me." I retire from the conversation for now while Mummy comforts Jules. Luther stomps back to his blankets and Nancy goes with him. My sisters come back. I stare at the door, wishing my magic could open it, wishing I could go and find the men and avenge them myself. Finally, Jules is calmed and forgiven. He tearfully promises Luther never to disobey again. Maybe that would be better. Maybe he could live with this easier than I could. But I can't leave it at that. There is too much anger. The dust keeps flashing red. I take over from Jules and sit up, staring them down. I keep my voice calm. "What do you think you're doing, letting them use you? Do you care about your children? Do you want them to grow up like this?" The sandy-haired man named Carl comes forward. "We'd like them to grow up. You make trouble and they won't even get to do that." He stomps away, bitterness filling his face. Nobody has much else to say. "You can't let them do this, you have to fight them." Aunt Nancy comes to me. She takes my hand. "People do. But what good is daring them to kill you. That's all you would have done today. There's ways, but not that." They want to go on in this place. I don't care. I leave Jules, sitting with Kukalaka as he holds his mum, crying again. He can live with this and his fears. I'll watch from the distance. If I can't go home, then I'll wait in the shadows for now. Jules slides under the covers, pale and exhausted. I hold my weapon, waiting for the day I leave this place. As Jules falls asleep, I go with him, and dream of home again. *** I still follow them as Luther takes Jules to work. I have to, somehow, though nobody here is interested in my avenging anything. Luther is patient with him. Jules tries to help, doing what he's told slowly and exactly, and stopping when he runs out of instructions. Mostly they work the grain shipments. After a little while, Luther tells him to play with his bear in the corner and Luther does all the work. Since I . . . left . . . Jules doesn't talk anymore. Or more like he doesn't talk to them, except mum sometimes. But the bear talks to him, and he carries on a conversation in his own child- language with it. Since he isn't a part of me now, I can't understand his language. Kukalaka watches protectively when I'm sleeping. We trade off. Someday this torment will end and we'll go home, but for now we have to make sure Jules can go with us. He doesn't know, doesn't remember, but he belongs there, not here. I'm thinking Mummy isn't just Mummy, because the other children are so used to her. Maybe she's the same mother, in different places. I don't know. I haven't read the books about that yet. They are at home. There isn't much here. When they win the liberation they all dream about there won't be much more, but we'll be gone then. I watch out for Jules and Mummy. The rest of them have made it clear they don't want my help. The Avenger doesn't intrude where he isn't wanted. Luther makes sure not to take him where he isn't supposed to be. If he did *I* might avenge him myself. Jules is too scared of the guards to make any trouble. Of course, so is Luther. I used to care what happened. I don't anymore, since he slapped me. Mummy is sad here, but she cuddles little Jules, talks to the bear when he tells her things Jules doesn't anymore, and generally takes care of him. Or does the best she can. Everybody says that here. Aunt Nancy is sick. She rests all the time now. Her belly is bigger than it was, too big for her to be sick. Or that's what Mummy says. She keeps looking at Jules when she says it, like he could help. Maybe she's wishing he had the chance. I go on. I dream of home. Sometimes I visit Westley and Buttercup, sail with Inego, or try to join in with their own stories. But it's not real. None of it's real but home. I just want to go home, even if the pirates won or the Martians have come back. I just need for life to mean something again. *** The Avenger is bored. Yesterday morning, Jules tripped over a rock hidden in the snow and wrenched his ankle. But he was excused from work for a few days, until he can stand on it. He's lying in his blankets, building stick houses with his little treasure of sticks and rocks, then letting Kukalaka knock it down. Aunt Nancy is sick and he doesn't play with the other children. I have nothing to do. Kukalaka and I still stand watch, but locked inside this tomb there isn't even anything to excite the dust, to keep me strong. Mostly for the humans it's cold, and they stay warm by hiding inside the blankets. But then the door opens, and the dust in my disassembler starts to swirl. The tall man with the sandy hair is standing there, just looking over the room. Mum has called him Carl. He's been sick, but he is doing better. He dragged out the empty water barrel earlier and pushed in the new one. Then he returned the roller. But he was different then, and it took him a long time to get back. Nobody really noticed, but then he makes people nervous around him, especially with so few here during the day. I noticed. I watch all of them. The bad men are excusing more of them when they get sick or hurt. They don't need them as much now. Even Jules gets to let his ankle heal. Most of them accept it as normal. But I see the truth. They do the best they can. They lie to themselves. Even Mum does now. But this isn't my home. I watch, keeping Jules and Mum safe. But all I want anymore is to go home. Carl knows too. I've seen him during the day. One of the bad men with the nice clothes looks at him a lot. Jules is sorry for him. But then Jules was hurt by the other children all the time before I came along. But Carl's different now, since walking in the door, looking taller and stronger than usual. He isn't looking at the ground. He looks at the children, then Jules, and stops. The dust is swirling harder now, red flashes appearing. Carl has his hands on his hips. He's moving towards Jules now. Kukalaka is moving towards him too, but I have the disassembler. Mum had said, once, to Aunt Nancy that she kept an eye on him. She thought Jules was sleeping but I was listening. I listen to all of them. I looked at Mum and she had this gleam in her eyes that was different, like she wanted to avenge something. Carl has a mean look now, like he's scared. Jules has been sent to work with him, but never alone. Now only Dorothy and Aunt Nancy are here and both of them are asleep. Jules looks up from his play as Carl stands directly above him. He's too close to Jules, breaking their own rules. One of the sticks falls and Carl breaks it. Jules looks up at him, broken hearted. Tears start to fall. It took him a lot of work to find his toys, to hide them as he brought them back. He treasures them as only children with only a few toys can. I'm so near I can hear Carl's breathing. He stares at Jules as I hurry closer. I need to defend him, but Jules won't let me in. Maybe he's mad at me since I abandoned him. But for now all I can do is watch. Carl leans down, picks up another stick, breaks it. Jules is crying now. I need to help him, but I can't if he pushes me away. I left him for too long. The Avenger has failed again. Carl is just inches away from him, breaking all the rules, entering private space. Jules is holding his broken sticks, sobbing as he looks at them, ignoring the man above him. Then Carl smiles. The dust swirls, the red flashes everywhere. The smile is evil, dangerous. I must get in. Kukalaka and I surround Jules, but can't help if he's keeping me away. Carl can't see me without the boy. But I can see Carl. I can see the fear in his eyes. He has a secret and he's afraid of Jules, afraid somehow he'll tell, afraid enough to hurt. It's the man, the bad one that looks at him all the time. The rest don't see, don't want to. But he is worried Jules will. He's picking up another stick, ready to break it. Jules looks up, scared, sobbing. He hugs his bear, reaches for the stick and tries to take it as Carl taunts him with it. Outraged, angry and desperate, the dust glows bright and the flashes are so strong I can barely contain them. But Jules is too distraught to see me. He took a long time gathering his sticks. Toys here are special, even little pieces of wood. "Told you," he taunts. "Told you he'd get to you, you'd pay." He grabs more of the sticks and Jules draws back, afraid and bawling. I look at Kukalaka hoping he can make a difference. But he shrugs in frustration. I try to force my way into Jules but he can't hear or see me at all. Then a voice, older and angry sounds across the room. Dorothy is awake, and she stomps her way over to Carl. He doesn't back off, not right away, but he drops the sticks on the blankets. Jules looks up at her, rescue in his eyes. Kukalaka and I back off. With the look in Dorothy's eyes, he doesn't need us. "Get away from him, now," she orders. Carl is startled, didn't hear her approach. He takes a step back, heading towards his blankets. But he doesn't make it. She shoves him down, now away from Jules, who is finally picking up his remaining sticks. He lands on a matt along the pathway, and doesn't try to get up. "I didn't hurt him. I just broke a few of his little sticks." He looks up at her, surrendering to her anger. "Look, you've never had to work with him. He takes all day to do what he should in an hour. You do all the rest of the work." She is staring at him, still as angry as before. I can see him fade, fall into himself as she moves closer. He would have hurt Jules, I could tell. But not now. Now he's fading back to his sadness. "Maybe you don't remember when they dumped you in the doorway. You have no right to complain. If you come near him again, or something happens when you were around, and everybody knows about your little," she pauses, but he doesn't let her fill in the word. "You want to protect him, go ahead. But I wouldn't trust him anymore than you trust me." He looks up at her, defeated but not willing to concede. "Oh, I trust you. You won't get anyone in trouble. Remember, justice is deaf. As long as we don't see anything, you can pretend you're not a slut. But all it takes is one word. Just one small observation." Then she adds, quietly, "I might even tell them about *him*." Carl crumples. He looks at the matt, slumping his whole body. I don't understand, but it doesn't matter. He'll leave Jules alone. But I look around the room. At home, he'd be locked in the cage. Even after the tripods stopped coming, we didn't let the bait out of the cage. Here, they let him live among them, pretending, and I don't understand. But as Dorothy leaves he stays huddled on the matt, staring ahead. Jules is carefully holding his sticks, tears still running down his cheeks over the broken ones in his other hand. Then, abruptly, Carl rises, and stumbles towards the door. With his cold, he shouldn't be out in the snow. He did his job for the day. But he taps on the door, and it's opened. He stumbles out without hat or gloves. I wonder if he will forget to come back. But a while later, Jules now wrapped in his blanket and Dorothy telling him a story, the door opens and Carl stumbles back in. His coat is soaked and head is dripping. He ignores the few people in the room as he goes to Jules. "Here, hope you like them." He drops a handful of sticks in front of Jules, strong pieces, long and short, and won't look at Dorothy. Jules stares at him, but only momentarily. He reaches for the sticks, ignoring that they are wet, and Carl leaves. I listen as Dorothy finishes the story--Kukalaka and I both love her stories--but Carl is wrapped in his blankets now, wet clothes piled on the matt besides him, shivering. Dorothy lets Jules play with his new sticks, tears replaced with delight. She checks on Carl, but briefly. She tells wonderful stories, but she pretends about everything else. I want to go home. Jules needs to go home, to take Mummy too. This place destroys people, already has changed Mum. I can't live here, and Jules will forget about me. Even magic can't go on forever without someone to believe. *** End, Surrender, Part 4c End, part 4 of Surrender.