“A long, long time ago…I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance…That I could make those people dance…”

Devon couldn’t help but chuckle as she made her way in the darkness to the Med Tent. Apparently, after two long painful days of round-the-clock trial and error, Julia had finally found a combination of drugs to help ease John Danziger’s pain. Easing? Hell, the burly mechanic was actually singing.

The sound of her brief laugh was brittle, even to her ears, but the relief she felt upon hearing his softly slurred aria was palpable. No one in Eden Advance, least of all Devon had slept very well in the past 36 hours, but Julia had sent her forcibly away from Danziger’s side earlier that evening, demanding that she at least try.

At first, there’s been no time to register exhaustion, there’d only been shock and disbelief. The following interminable hours were filled with tears and an overwhelming fear that after crash landings and seemingly incurable diseases, ZED’s and penal colonists, a simple case of lost footing would bring about the loss of one of their most treasured companions.

She’d been torn in the immediate aftermath. There was an overwhelming need to be with True, to help comfort the poor girl and her own son, who looked up to John like the father he never knew. But Julia had needed her in the Med Tent. Julia had, in fact, screamed for her in an uncharacteristic state of panic that had frightened Devon enough to leave the children to the soothing hands and quiet voice of Bess Martin. Thinking back, her ears still fairly ringing, Devon thought it was a miracle she’d heard the doctor at all, over the agonizing wails of Danziger himself.

As long as she would live, Devon would never forget the shrill keening, the unrelenting, terrified cries that had wracked Danziger’s brutalized body that day, the hoarse terror that that he simply could not quell. He’d always been their rock, their safe harbor in stormy waters. She still couldn’t even imagine the pain he must have been in, still cruelly alert despite his injuries. The sheer horror that must have been coursing though his blood, pulsing with an unstoppable fervor onto the arid stretch of desert they were currently trekking across.

Occasionally, over the next several hours, in the fleeting moments when Danziger was mercifully unconscious from the pain, or from one of Julia’s half-successful attempts at controlling it, Devon would swear she’d heard the frightening sound of Magus screaming, “Vehicle halt! Vehicle HALT!” clear as day in the oppressive silence of the Med Tent. But when she’d jump, suddenly alert, there’d be nothing but the wind rustling the tarp of the tent, the muted whistle-purr of Danziger’s struggle to breathe, the persistent beeping of Julia’s equipment.

But now he was singing. Lord knows what, she wondered as she heard Julia’s soft indistinct murmuring from within the tent. John’s impromptu concert stopped long enough so he could respond, slurred words only half vocalized due to his poor abused throat. It was a wonder he had any voice at all. It was a wonder he was still alive.

Devon paused outside the tent, hoping to gather her wits and find the strength for an honest smile. Backlit by the warm glow of a solitary Luma Light, she could clearly see Danziger’s profile, bundled high with blankets, lying completely flat against the narrow cot. Julia’s slim silhouette flitted about, her delicate hands often coming to rest for a time on John’s chest, his forehead, but never his legs. Even from outside Devon could tell she was anxious to pull back the swathes of solar flannel and check the bandages, disinfect the primitive, old fashioned sutures she’d been forced to make. Julia was a fine doctor, this was something that Devon had learned mere days after arriving planet-side, but her supplies and technology on G889 was severely compromised, and the injuries Danziger had suffered were devastating. Devon hadn’t yet asked the burning question, but she could already read the answer blazing every time she met the doctors eyes. You only had to look at John’s long, muscled legs to know it was unlikely that he would ever walk again. She had refused to look any deeper, where the answer to greater questions lay, she refused to acknowledge the possibility that they might still lose him.

“Well I…know you're in love with him…'Cause I saw…you dance…ing…in the gym…”

“Shhh, Danziger…”

Danziger’s broken song had started up again, punctuated by small gasps of discomfort that corresponded with Julia’s feather-light touches. Devon watched as his hand weakly crept up to swat at the doctor’s DiaGloved hand, clutching on instead as if she was his lifeline.

“I’m right here. I won’t let go, just try to relax, John…”

Julia’s unadorned hand came to rest on the slick, matted curls at the crown of Danziger’s head, and for a brief time the two silhouettes became one rippling organism. Devon took a deep breath, turning away for a moment, fighting back the ever-present tightness at the back of her throat. She should be in there with him, she knew, but she refused to let him see the fear flitting across her face.

To her left, in the darkness, she heard a rustle of fabric, and with a sad sigh she realized that Walman and Magus were still keeping their silent vigil outside the Med Tent. The two were sleeping at the moment, but both members of Danziger’s Ops crew had refused to leave the premises, opting instead to make camp where they could be reached with a word. Devon hadn’t had a chance to speak with Magus, but she knew from her brief meeting with several other members of the Ops crew that the poor woman held herself solely responsible. In the hectic aftermath, after the hours of helping Julia through dozens of antiquated surgical procedures and the even longer time it took to finally settle True into slumber, she’d stolen away from the Med Tent just long enough to find out what had gone wrong. John was a glutton for punishment, but he was also incredibly strong, capable and cautious, when he wanted to be.

Sitting in a broken circle on the ground, a Luma Light tossed in the center en lieu of a fire no one had the energy to build, several of the members of Eden Advance had detailed what they could about John’s accident.

The caravan had been progressing pedantically along as usual, and since the long days had become increasingly scorching, they would often travel for kilometers at a time in companionable silence. Except, of course, for the kids, who chattered and bickered endlessly or played a crazy word game that Danziger had created for them. The day of John’s fall they had been blessedly riding together nearly a half of a click ahead on the DuneRail with Denner and Morgan, grilling the bureaucrat on his extensive collection of VR games back on the Stations.

Magus had been at the helm of the Transrover, with Walman riding beside her, taking a break from the blistering heat. Devon had been on foot, a few meters behind the rambling vehicle, occasionally picking up the pace in order to share a few words with a very distracted Danziger. He’d been eyeing the Transrover’s rotating navigational beacon with the distrusting eyes of a mechanic for the last few days, unable to find a reason for it’s recent malfunctions in the countless moonlit hours he spent perched beside it. That morning it was acting particularly finicky, despite another round of modifications made the previous night. John had plodded along wordlessly as she discussed plans to modify the ATV to a greater towing capacity in the hopes of traveling in the heat with a larger water supply. Nodding wordlessly, he would glance up every few seconds out of sheer habit.

Most of what happened in the brief seconds before the accident were a blur to Devon, though she’d wracked her brain countless times for any scrap of information that could help Julia with her treatments ‘How far did he fall? Did he hit his head? Devon! How long did it take the vehicle to reverse? How long was he pinned?’ Like in a dream, Devon has unwittingly observed the events preceding the incident, and had found herself paralyzed with the knowledge that something horrible was about to occur and she would be unable to stop it from happening.

She’d recounted her version of events to Julia, and later to an exhausted True who refused to be calmed until she knew everything the adults knew about her father’s condition. She’d been frank with the girl, in a positive way, fully realizing for perhaps the first time since they’d arrived on G889 that True hadn’t been shielded from the harsh realities of life in the same way Uly had been, despite his illness. It was important that Devon be honest with her, and one glimpse into the little girls soulful eyes, brimming with tears, was enough to make Devon realize that John’s daughter had seen and heard too much to be placated with the usual niceties afforded to children about to lose their parents.

Luckily for both of their sakes, so much of what had happened remained a mystery, lost to the to annals of Devon’s shock-ridden brain; fodder for nightmares and fleeting memories to come.

She and John had been walking beside the Transrover, Danziger explaining in his usual short tone that the modifications she wanted made to the ATV were ‘not as easy as all that, if you expect her transmission to make it to New Pacifica.’ He’d taken one of his perfunctory glances at the beacon and muttered a soft ‘shit’ before instantly leaving her side.

The beacon hadn’t stopped its spinning, but was rather warbling precariously in a gyroscopic frenzy, irregular, thin bursts of gray smoke emitting from the gear box. With each rotation the circumference of the orbit grew wider, and with a knot in her stomach the severity of the situation-- one John had been spending sleepless nights contemplating-- finally occurred to Devon.

If the delicate instrument should tumble off the top of the vehicle, it would be nearly impossible for John to fix with the equipment and supplies he had at his disposal; their primary source of mapping and directional data would be destroyed. Devon closed her eyes with a grimace, her usual optimistic nature taking a temporary back seat to the “what-ifs” flooding her brain.. Without the recon figures from that equipment, they would literally be lost, and the trip to New Pacifica would take not months but quite possibly years.

“Nah, keep drivin‘! I want to want to see what the shankin’ problem is while she’s spinnin‘!” Opening her eyes, Devon was surprised to see John climbing the side of the moving cab, pausing in the open window long enough to relay those fateful instructions to Magus and Walman on the bench inside. She’d seen him maneuver the skeleton of the Transrover with the skill of a gymnast many times, but never when the vehicle was moving quite so fast on such pitted and rutted ground. And never had she seen him climb all the way up to the slick roof.

Still keeping pace, she took a few steps back to observe his actions. Seeing him balanced on his knees outside the cage next to the antenna like a Hoverboard rider, a cold feeling of panic rushed over her like a summer frost.

No one was certain at which point things went so wrong. Danziger, kneeling precariously at the perimeter of the cab roof and attempting with each pass to dodge the beacon’s whirling dish, suddenly let out a yelp as a burst of sparks flew from the circuitry at the arm’s base. Magus, clearly distracted from surveying the uneventful desert landscape by Danziger’s activities on the roof, failed to spot a narrow arroyo snaking it’s way across the heavy vehicle’s path. Suddenly the vehicle pitched forward, the phantom edges of the small fissure of earth crumbling away. For a vehicle such as the Transrover, the arid moat was nothing more than a pothole, but the bump was significant to cause the already frazzled mechanic to loose his center of gravity. What happened next was a blur.

Suddenly frozen in her spot, Devon watched the macabre events unfolding past her like a pageantry of nightmares. She can remember watching Magus’ face snap back to the road, only to find her view obstructed by Danziger’s swinging torso. She could see John scrambling for purchase, concentrating all his efforts on not grabbing onto the beacon to stop his fall. In her mind she hears a definite “Oh my God, Danziger!” Though she has no visual to correspond with it, nor can she recall if it was herself speaking or someone else. The next image, the moment that stains Devon’s memory like a watermark, is John’s hands slowly creeping towards the edge of the roof, and his wide, surprised eyes meeting hers over the blazing horizon of the cabs cherry paint. Then he is gone, the back wheels of the Transrover whirring raucously past her; the tarped body of the vehicle seemingly stretching a mile from front to back. And that’s when Magus started shouting; and Danziger started screaming.

“We all got up to…dance…my God…Julia! Oh my God, ohmygod…”

“Hang on, let me adjust the flow…deep breaths…”

It was the return of Danziger’s pain, not imagined this time but eerily fitting, that snapped Devon out of her reverie. At the sound of his foggy suffering, the rasp of panic teasing the edges of his pleas, she rushed forward, determined to be there with him and to help prolong his fleeting comfort as best as she could.

“How’s that? John? Is that helping?”

“Yeah…yeah, that’s better…man…”

Another turn, another reprieve, another shuddering exhaled breath fled Devon Adair’s lungs. She didn’t know how long she could go on like this, how long the group could float in its interminable stasis, constantly waiting for the inevitability of fate to show itself. Most importantly, she didn’t know how long John would be able to hang on with such injuries, and she didn’t know the first place to begin to convince him that he should.

“Uh, Devon?”

Devon jumped at the voice behind her, whipping away from the somber shadowbox of the Med Tent to find Morgan Martin standing before her, hands burrowed securely in the pockets of his cargo pants.

“Morgan, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” She whispered exasperatedly, steering him well away from where John was trying to rest.

“I’m sorry Devon, that last thing I want is to bother you, I just, well,” His hands left their sanctuary, shaping nervous windmills in the air, a trait of Martin’s that Danziger had once privately referred to as “the old bait and switch.” John had claimed, with his own endearing blunt conviction, that it was the bureaucrat’s way of distracting people from noticing what a ‘big fat liar’ he was. She had laughed at the time but now, in the feeble light of the twin moons, he just looked like a drowning man desperately trying to keep himself afloat. “Bess and I, since we’re all stuck here until, um, things improve, I-”

“Morgan, what are you trying to say? Julia needs me back in the Med Tent.” She asked as gently as she could, her ears scanning the periphery of their range, hoping for some indication that John’s pain was still receding.

“I want you to let me help with Danziger.” The heart of matter burst forth so suddenly from Morgan’s traditionally mealy mouth that it took Devon a second to comprehend his request. When she did, she couldn’t help soften her approach to their conversation. Morgan Martin never failed to amaze her with his strange methods of self-flagellation.

“I know I’m not a doctor, believe me, and I know my Florence Nightingale impression is nothing compared to yours, but I know the systems well enough to help Julia run her tests. Or I, um, if you need another pair of hands I can sterilize bandages, I can empty bedpans, just something…other than…” He paused, looking around like he was desperate for escape. “Sitting there, doing nothing, with Bess and the kids acting like he’s already dead.”

The thinly masked desperation and concern in the lawyer’s timbre defused the harshness of the words it voiced. Devon wondered if their roles were reversed and it was she in the bed, not Danziger, how he would react to Morgan’s sudden, panicked bravado. Would John tell him to go back to his tent, that they didn’t need anymore help and that Devon wouldn’t want to see him anyway? Or would he look beyond the awkwardness and tension to take pity on this circumstantial pariah and give Morgan the opportunity to absolve some of his guilt?

“Morgan, I appreciate your offer, but right now, we just…” She trailed off, glancing longingly back at the Med Tent, not sure of what she should say. She wondered if his hesitancy was catching. “There’s not much anyone can do at this point. Julia’s just trying to keep him as comfortable as possible, quiet him down. His fever and the blood loss--”

“Oh, hey, do you need more blood? I have plenty of blood, I’m fit as fiddle, take some more!” Morgan offered excitedly, rolling up his sleeve right there on the outskirts of camp. Devon fought back a chuckle at his eagerness, catching his arm gently.

“Morgan, that’s very nice of you, but Julia’s got enough for now.” To his credit, Morgan seemed genuinely disappointed. “I promise if she needs another donation you’ll be the first person we approach, okay?”

“I’ve got good blood.” He assured her seriously, “Julia said earlier that Danziger and I both have the same blood type, which, if you think about it is kind of funny, but also lucky as well, so if he needs more of mine--”

“We’ll come get you right away, I promise.” Devon assured him, feeling for all the world like she was placating Uly at bed time, not convincing a grown man to keep his bodily fluids at bay.

“How about Grendler saliva?” He asked, catching Devon off guard yet again. “Hey, it worked before, right? Who knows what healing properties it might have. Bess just fixed up my winter coat real nice, I bet I can get a couple gallons for it!” This time, Devon’s laugh wasn’t so well-hidden.

“Well, sadly, I don’t think Grendler saliva will do much good. Danziger’s injuries aren’t really unique to this planet, but why don’t I run it by Julia a bit later, when she’s not so busy and I’ll see what she says, okay?” She proposed stoically.

“Okay, sure. I guess it is pretty far fetched, but hey, it worked before, right?” He asked sheepishly, the absurdity of his suggestion finally sinking in. Devon nodded sympathetically.

“Yes it did, Morgan.”

They stood there for a moment, Morgan effectively silenced. Instead of pleading nurse duty and taking this chance to escape, however, Devon found herself wracking her brain for something, anything she could use Morgan’s help with.

“So, um…things over there in our tent are a bit, well, funereal. And Bess keeps insisting that ‘no news is good news’ but the real reason I’m here, besides, of course, contributing my services--which is a standing offer by the way--is to find out, uh, how he’s doing. I mean, how he’s really doing.”

“Well, that’s the question of the hour, Morgan.” What Devon couldn’t admit was that she didn’t really know either; that she was too plain scared to ask. A memory flashed by, from another Med Tent, another patient: “Is he better?” “No, but his rate of deterioration has slowed.” “Well, that’s an improvement, right?” “I suppose--” “Then he’s better.” When had she lost that optimism Danziger was always chiding her about?

“He’s stable, for the moment. Julia’s managed to stop the bleeding, and she’s done her best to clean up the tissue and realign the bones in his pelvis and legs. Right now, his fever and the shock are just too rampant to attempt anything more in the way of surgery. It looks like she may have finally synthesized something to help block the pain, the injections we have on hand weren’t even touching it--”


“Yeah, we could hear.” He informed her guiltily, as though he‘d gotten so used to affronting people that he was somehow responsible for this, too. At Devon’s expression of concern he shook his head quickly. “Don’t worry, we gave the kids the sleep aid Bess got from Julia, and when they woke up today I convinced them I needed their help with one of my VR games, so they’ve been pretty distracted. True’s not falling for it, but I think she’s smart enough to know she that playing in VR beats listening to her Dad…um…Devon, is he singing?” So enrapt in her worries about the children, Devon hadn’t noticed at first that Danziger’s song had renewed. Struggling to hear, she let the melodic strains wash over her again…

“The marching band refused to yield…”

“Yes, he is. I guess Julia found the magic formula, didn’t she?” Morgan smiled, catching the tune.

“Hey I know this one! Wow, he’s going back…wouldn’t have pegged Danziger as a fan of the classics.”

“Well, when he’s feeling a little better, you two will have something to talk about, I guess.” Devon teased, a makeshift peace offering.

“Oh, sure John and I will be jamming in VR in no time.” He joked back. His use of the mechanics first name not lost on either party. The misplaced but acute despair in Morgan’s gaze suddenly threatened to overwhelm her. At the rate she was going, she’d be a complete mess by the time she ever made it into the Med Tent.

“We were singing: bye bye…”

“Miss American pie, drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry…” To Devon’s surprise, Morgan Martin had begun softly singing along. Before she could tease him further, however, he fell silent, his features growing panicked and suddenly ashen. He stared confusedly at the Med Tent, silently distraught.

“Morgan, what is it?” She asked, reaching out to touch his arm again.

“This’ll be the day that I die…” He whisper-sang along, the echo of his soft revelation ringing in her ears, temporarily drowning out Danziger’s wafting tune.

“What? What are you talking about?” She demanded, but his silence only served to accentuate the haunting melody coming from the Med Tent.

“This’ll be the day that I die…”

To his credit, Morgan instantly realized his error. Of course, the foreboding lyrics had given him just as much of a start as Devon, but he regretted not having caught himself before the shock was spilled across his face. Just as he wrapped his numb tongue around what to say next, he was lost for words again. Devon Adair began to sob.

He watched for a minute, paralyzed and at a loss, surpressing the urge to run screaming for Bess. He never knew what to do when a woman, especially a strong woman like Devon or Bess, was reduced to tears. Hell, he didn’t even know how to console the wordly-wise True Danziger with the sounds of her father’s suffering echoing not-so-far off in the distance.

Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his arm carefully around Devon’s shoulders, waiting for her inevitable shrug off. When it never came, he sighed, Danziger’s quiet singing providing an unnerving soundscape in the deep silence of the desert.

“Oh, Devon…Devon, it’s just a song! Listen to him in there, he’s loopier than the roller coaster at Orbit Park!” He chuckled at his own joke like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, but Devon was having none of it. Instead she sniffed, trying to get herself under control, still uncharacteristically leaning on the hapless bureaucrat for support.

“I’m sorry, Morgan…I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.” She wiped her nose unceremoniously on her sleeve, furious that she’d lost her precious self-control. Now was not the time to be thinking the worst, in front of Mrogan of all people! She needed to be strong and clear and optimistic in Danziger’s stead. It was what he deserved, but more importantly, it was what he would have expected of her.

“Don’t apologize. Like Bess always says ‘Nail your colors to the mast.’” Devon nodded slowly, clearly unsure of whether or not she should dare ask for an explanation. “And while I’m not exactly sure what that means, I am quite certain that it applies to this situation. Also, I think it involves pirates, and all that hair can’t be a coincidence, can it?” He asked with mock seriousness, all the while slowly steering Devon back in the direction of the Med Tent.

Devon had to chuckle. While this wouldn’t be the first time that something Morgan had said coaxed a laugh, it was a different experience when that was its intended effect. She had to admit, for all his short comings, he did have a certain charm.

“Danziger’s not gonna let one of his vehicles get the best of him! He’s gonna be outta that bed and threatening me again in no time, you’ll see.” He assured her, and she nodded again, this time with greater conviction.

“You’re right. You’re right, Morgan. I have to just stop thinking the worst and go in there and just…be there for him. We’ve all got to just think encouragingly and help him fight this…he’ll be, I mean…he’s stronger than this.” She met his gaze, tears still shimmering in her eyes, but Morgan could see the firey certainty beneath them. He grinned, pushing back the nagging thoughts of what would become of Devon Adair if Danziger didn’t make it.

“Well, I should get back in there, before John starts singing show tunes.” She concluded softly, squeezing his arm. “Thank you, again, for distracting the kids. Tell Bess how much I appreciate it.” She swallowed thickly. “I know how much it means to John.”

“I will. And if you need anything, you know where I am.” He reminded her, his hands finding their way back to his pockets. With a last sad smile Devon turned back to the Med Tent, bracing herself for the ghastly scene that awaited her.

“Oh, and Devon! Be positive!” Morgan called lightly after her.

“I’ll try, Morgan.” She assured him, looking over her shoulder.

“No! I mean, Yes! Be positive, but I was talking about my blood type- B positive…just let me know if you need any.”

With an indulgent smirk, she waved the man off, watching his silhouette bleed into the darkness until it had been completely consumed.

Devon ran a weary hand over her face. The skin felt tight an drawn, as though for the past hours Danziger’s body, bled of its own, had been drawing upon her lifeforce for sustenance. Until this evening, when everything had come crashing down around her, she hadn’t allowed her self to think for even a split second that John could die. Even in the most gruesome moments, even with John’s crimson hands clutching her sleeve, begging her to tell True how much he loved her, she’d done nothing but assure him he would be fine, and could tell her himself. Up until now she’d even believed it.

Now that the damn had broken, that she was exhausted and had been given too much time to think about things, she simply couldn’t find her way back to the state of mind that had served her so well previously. She wondered why coping with John’s accident was any different than the years she spent struggling with Ulysses’ illness. She’d gone to the ends of the earth to save her son, flatly refusing to accept the prognosis of the best Station doctors money could buy. She’d never given a second thought to life without her son because, in her heart, she knew she would never let his death come to pass.

John Danziger was another story all-together. No matter how much she wished she could feel the same way, there was a crucial difference between Uly and the man who she’d come to care so much for. John had, often rightfully so, taken everything she’d ever said to him--all her demands and advice and critisizm-- with a grain of salt. He was used to caring for only himself and his own, to making his own decisions for what would be best for the group. Despite the fact that she undoubtedly trusted him with her life and even Uly’s, she wasn’t entirely sure that in this case he could be trusted with his own. But there was nothing to be done.

Forced to sit back and blindly wait when medicine had done all it could and only faith and hope remained, Devon steeled herself and brushed back the entry to the Med Tent, resigned to put her trust in the God she wasn’t sure existed and the man who she was most terrified of losing.

The tent was eerily silent now that John’s morbid song had died away, and despite the dimness it took Devon’s eye’s a moment to adjust to the muted palate so contrary to the gloom outside.

Her counterfeit smile faltered for only a split second at the sight of him, clammy skinned and raccoon-eyed above the blankets pulled high around him but tucked under his right arm to allow Julia access to the Dermiports she'd installed in the crook of his elbow, which she was currently fussing with. His eyes were shut, his tense brow relaxed for the moment, but it was the complex expression of relief and unguarded sorrow on Julia’s face that told Devon, more than anything, that he was asleep for the moment.

“Hey.” Julia murmured from her stool, Danziger’s outstretched right arm resting in her lap while she disinfected the area surrounding the IV, securing it with fresh pieces of gauze and surgical tape.

“He’s been pretty in an out…the drugs appear to be working, finally, once I upped the dosage. It was back for a minute there just now. It startled him, and he pulled everything loose.” Julia’s voice had taken on a unfamiliar tone in the past few days, and it still jarred Devon every time she heard it. The doctor did her best to hide it when Danziger was conscious, or when she spoke to Alonzo over gear, who was out scouting for more water and supplies with Baines, but in the quiet of the Med Tent at times like these, the tinge of defeat couldn’t be hidden.

Devon was used to Julia’s unyielding professionalism, the clinical detachment that she’d resented so much in their early days on G889, when Uly had remained sick despite their arrival. Now, in a strange way, watching her care for Danziger as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders, Devon wished for it back.

“There we go.” Julia sighed, gently easing Danziger’s limp arm back to the cot, arranging the tubes that would deliver the pain medication and newly synthesized plasma at a slow, constant drip.

It had been years since Devon had seen anyone with a “line” as Julia referred to it, and just the sight of Danziger being strung up with so many needles had left her deeply frustrated at first. It had reminded her how primitive Eden Advance’s medical practices actually were. But the doctor assured her that due to the circumstances and the constant need for intravenous medication and an alternate blood supply, it made the most sense, and it was just as safe as her Hypogun.

“You should get some sleep yourself, now that he’s resting.” Devon offered gently, knowing better than to be to forceful with the frazzled woman. Julia stood wordlessly, offering her place to Devon, who crept closer to the injured man despite her hesitancy to take in his condition.

“I’d like to wait until he’s under deeper, check his bandages and do a few more scans, but if you don’t mind I think I’ll go wash up, get some air.” She carefully removed her DiaGlove, setting it gently on the counter next to her other equipment.

“Of course, take your time, I’ll keep him company for now.” Devon spoke softly, still avoiding the sight of Danziger, suddenly craving privacy. “We could hear him singing outside, it sounds like the medication is doing the trick.”

A wan smile crossed Julia’s face, damning evidence that she’d been as affected by John’s song as Devon herself had been. Both women knew that neither would even mention it.

“Devon, I…” Julia came to stand next to the leader, pitching her voice in a true whisper. “I don’t know what else I can do for him, his fever’s raging and he’s just so weak. Even his reactions to the pain have changed, he hardly cries out, he just…doesn’t have the strength left in him. The next twenty-four hours will be crucial, if we can avoid the onset of infection and alleviate the state of crisis to his immune system there’s a chance he can survive, but…” Her throat caught, one hand flying up to violently brush away the tears before they could fall. It pained Devon to watch her struggle with the inevitable.

“Julia, you should get away for a few hours. He’s sleeping now, right? He’s comfortable…we can only approach this one step at a time, and at the moment, he’s okay.” Devon consoled her softly, grateful for the doctor’s temporary show of weakness, as it served to strengthen her own confidence. Like Danziger himself, Devon was always at her best when she focused on someone else’s problems.

Julia wordlessly nodded, turning back to get a final glimpse of John’s sleeping form. “Okay. Okay, I’ll be back in thirty minutes, I don’t want to go too long without monitoring his temperature. If it doesn’t get any higher, I’ll lie down for a bit.” Devon rubbed a hand over the distraught woman’s shoulder.

“I promise I’ll come get you immediately if anything changes, okay?” She proposed, and with a silent nod, Julia turned to leave. At the entrance, however, she paused, clearly struggling with whatever she was about to say.

“I think…if there’s no change in his condition by morning, I think we’d better let True spend some time with her father.” The soft illumination of the Luma Light caught the glimmer of a single tear tracing a path over Julia’s high cheekbone. “I know he wants to spare her his suffering but he’s desperate for her, and it wouldn’t be wise to keep her away much longer.”

The icy breeze that had washed over Devon at the sight of Danziger atop the Transrover blasted her again, and she stood stock still for a moment, bracing herself against it.

“We’ll see how he is in the morning.” She finally replied, her rigid tone sounding much too harsh, even to her own ears. Julia didn’t flinch, but instead met Devon’s eyes with her own conviction, silently wishing her parents had never wanted their child to become a doctor. Wordlessly, she made her way into the darkness.

Each slow step towards the edge of Danziger’s bed brought forth a new disturbing element, focusing the harsh truths of the situation into a sharp relief. The muted pant that signaled each of John’s staccato, shallow breaths, his perfect right foot sticking out from beneath the blankets with it’s blood flow monitor attached to the big toe, flashing numbers that Devon knew were far too low. Even Danziger’s frame appeared smaller somehow, despite the fact that the narrow bed barely fit his great size, it seemed that in great strain of the past few days had gleaned pounds from his body. Devon was struck with the image of John’s heart laboring to beat, how tired it must be, that even the blood given so freely from his child and friends couldn’t sustain it. Smiling at her own folly, at the downward spiral of her morale over the course of this cool desert evening, she rubbed absently at the bandage on her arm where Julia had methodically prodded every member of Eden Advance.

“It figures, Danziger…” She whispered with hushed chuckle, sitting tiredly on the stool by the bed. “Even our blood types aren’t compatible.”

Even his sleep looked pained, the line of his strong jaw twitching imperceptibly now and again. His pallid eyelids stirred with the erratic movements of fevered dreams, the short, flaxen lashes brushing against his cheek in a constant tattoo.

Poised so rigidly on her stool, Devon suddenly became aware of the fact that she was afraid to touch him. It was impossible to know which innocent gestures would sooth and which would distress him further. Fingers twisting in her lap, she resigned herself to let him sleep, not to fuss. Instead she passed the crawling minutes observing the minutiae, fixated on the slightest movements, the most insignificant details. She drank John Danziger in tiny draughts, knowing she would never again be foolish enough to think she could have her fill.

There was small smear of blood at his hairline that had been missed by her careful attempts to clean him up earlier, when she had been holding herself together through the gore and the tension of helping Julia with medical procedures she couldn’t begin to understand. She’d discovered that if she didn’t look at his face, if she pretended she was looking at the insides of a stranger and not the mangled legs of the man who had spent the morning carrying her son on his shoulders, recounting the same army stories that got more outlandish with every telling, she was able to keep the hysterics at bay. Devon hated that she hadn’t noticed the smear until now.

His beard was getting a bit long, even for John’s usual masculine, unkempt style. He would want a shave soon, she imagined, knowing full well that it would be a long while before he was cognizant enough to even consider such trivialities. Maybe when he was feeling a bit better he and True could resume their morning ritual.

Devon’s eyes trained down to his broad chest, catching on the beads of sweat glistening along his clavicle. As she watched they pooled and crept over his shoulder, disappearing into the labyrinth of damp curls along his neck.

Fingers shaking, the words feverstoohigh careening around her subconscious, she tentatively rested the back of her hand against John’s cheek, aware of the heat radiating from him even before her cool skin made contact. Despite the deception of the blankets piled high and the cool blue tinge of his slightly parted lips, there was a fire raging inside Danziger that instantly struck fear into Devon’s heart. Suddenly, she understood Julia’s rising concerns; could clearly grasp the peril her friend was still in. This simple touch, one of tenderness rather than medicinal necessity, was nearly Devon’s undoing.

“We’ve gotta get you cooled down, Danziger.” She murmured softly, more to herself than the slumbering man. Peering around the tent for something to help staunch the helplessness welling in her chest, she left his side quickly to retrieve a small metal bowl, which she filled with cool water, and a clean cloth.

Moving back to his side, she wet the fabric and wrung it out tightly, setting the bowl on a nearby overturned crate. No longer as concerned about his comfort as she was about his condition, she gently began methodically wiping away the sweat from his collarbone and chest, quelling the flames that licked at his forehead and dry, cracked lips. Carefully, she scrubbed at the offending smudge.

Danziger stirred at the contact, his unguarded expression conflicted, as if each swipe of the chilled cloth across his brow brought discordant waves of relaxation and tiny fissures of pain. Julia had explained to her earlier that the loss of so much blood had left him with extreme sensitivity and nerve pain, and Devon was careful to watch expression for any sign that she should stop. Instead, he seemed to settle down a bit, a stillness settling over him that Devon hadn’t seen since the accident.

“You know Danziger,” She teased, running the compress over the his smooth, finely haired bicep, “There are easier ways to get a day off.” Even as the words left her mouth they felt hollow and empty. Humor wasn’t her strong suit. It was Danziger’s place to make the flippant comments, the harmless jokes at her expense. Why did she feel suddenly so incomplete that she was trying to fill the void he’d yet to leave? Bruised and tattered, frighteningly vulnerable, it was still Danziger lying there before her. He hadn’t left her yet.

Devon reached for the bowl, turning away to moisten the cloth again, and when she turned back she was surprised to see Danziger’s eyes had opened, staring distantly at the roof of the tent.

“John?” She asked softly, the forgotten rag dripping excess water down her forearm, soaking her shirtsleeve. “Danziger?” His gaze didn’t falter, but he worked his lips, running his tongue over them in an effort to speak.

“A number five should hold her…” He whispered, heavy eyelids falling shut. “Just clamp it until…” He swallowed hard. “…Anthro-Sceptor….”

Startled by his disorientation, Devon brought the cloth to his forehead again, white-knuckled and trembling.

“Hey Danziger, you with me?” She asked lightly, wetting down his hair gently. Receiving no response, she hesitated in questioning him further, knowing there was no point in bringing him round just to ease her own apprehension when rest was what he needed.

Instead, of their own accord, his eyelids lethargically opened once again, and his gaze instantly met hers. Despite the haze of hard earned medicated passivity she saw in them, she immediately knew that this time he was aware of his surroundings.

"Devon." he murmured as she began the circuit again, cloth soothing his chest and neck, the skin as pale and seemingly paper-thin as parchment. Though his color had yet to improve, she tried not to dwell on the negatives, rationalizing that she had all the color she needed at the moment in his big blue eyes: miraculously open, reasonably clear, and undoubtedly looking expectantly in her direction. “You’re not…I thought you…never mind. I’m pretty fuzzy.” He finished with a loopy smile, and Devon grinned with a laugh of relief she felt clear to her toes.

“I think Julia should bottle this stuff, when you don’t need it anymore.” She teased, tapping the bag of translucent medication dangling from the tent support by his head.

“Naah. Makes you….lazy.” He responded seriously, and Devon chuckled again, not trusting herself to speak.

John's hand stirred at his side as he held her gaze, fingers opening and closing like a drunken spider, helplessly waiting for its pray to snake her fingers through its own. Reaching with the other to replace the cloth in its bowl, Devon complied, lacing the fingers of one hand through his, stroking his skinned knuckles with the other.

"How's my baby girl?" He asked, his cheek twitching with the exertion of an inquisitive smile. His look so doe-eyed and languid, Devon blinked, momentarily confused. Exactly what kind of drugs did Julia have him on? "How's True?"

Instantly contrite and more than a little embarrassed, Devon smiled and squeezed John's hand, the gentle pressure eliciting the slightest of grimaces. In his own quiet way of showing her he was okay, his thumb began lightly tracing a reassuring pattern on the back of her hand. Beside the bed, one of Julia’s monitors uttered a single beep.

"She's fine, Danziger. Worried about her Dad, of course, but she's being so brave." She assured him, the image of True's tear streaked face swimming in her memory, stoically sitting on her father’s vacant cot while Julia quickly withdrew a small amount of blood, Bess silently stroking the girl’s hair. “The Martin’s are taking good care of her, John. She’s such a good girl.”

Opening and closing his eyes deliberately, Danziger seemed to be fighting against the current of medication sweeping through his system.

“She’s…True’s…the World.” He spoke in a broken whisper, his eyes begging her to understand all he was trying to convey. Biting the inside of her lip hard enough to draw blood, Devon nodded wordlessly.

John’s grin grew suddenly overcast, and his heart rate monitor registered an increase as his gaze left Devon‘s, erratically scanning the roof of the tent, eyes rapidly pooling with tears.

"What is it? John? Are you in pain?" She asked, worried, her head cocking slightly away as her voice rose in volume; ready to shout for Julia at the slightest provocation.

His lower lip quivering the tiniest bit, Danziger's gaze once again met Devon's with desperation, and as he struggled through the mental fog, teetering on the cusp of articulation.

"Did she see?" He asked slowly, the terror in his eyes conveying the details his inquiry lacked. Sighing, thankful she could grant him this smallest of reprieves, Devon shook her head quickly.

"No. No Danziger, she didn't see, we kept her away." Leaning in closer, Devon consoled him as best she could, her hand stroking a lulling rhythm across his pale hair and his paler brow.

"Thank you." He breathed, his shoulders visibly relaxing. He weakly squeezed her hand, closing his eyes again.

“Shhh, you need to rest, Danziger. We can talk more later, okay?” She cajoled, hoping he was tired enough to--just this once--do what she asked. He shook his head slightly, squinting up at her determinedly.

“Adair I…I don’t have much later left.” before she could protest he cut her off lightly. “Hey…just…let me win this one, okay?” He tried his best to tease, somehow summoning the strength to lift her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers softly. “Just listen for a minute…Devon, please.” He whispered, months of unspoken affection in the small gesture. There was no stopping the tears this time, Devon realized, even as they were coursing down her cheeks.

“Okay, John, I’m listening.” She assured him, reaching for the compress again, afraid in equal parts of the returning sheen on his burning forehead and the tremendous awareness of loss filling Danziger’s gaze. Gently she lowered his blankets a bit, freeing his left arm and abdomen, wincing slightly at the deep discoloration skirting the edges of the solar flannel. A deep purple peeked from the edge of the bandage covering the area where Julia had gone in to stop the internal bleeding in his pelvis. Devon went to work, her free hand immediately returning to John‘s.

“You’re the only person…only one I would trust to raise True. It’s not just…here…I’ve never met someone I would want to be…mother.” He let out a small gasp, his arm jerking a bit in her grasp. She yanked the cloth away as though he was hot enough to scald her, but he shook his head, “S’okay…feels nice.”

Startled both by his admission and by the lightning strike of his discomfort, Devon did her best to sound casual.

“I’m honored that you’d say--” John let out a groan of dismissal.

“Adair, don’t talk…listen.” He reminded her, and she made s show of ‘zipping her lip,’ one of Uly’s favorite expressions borrowed from True. Danziger smiled. “Good.” Wincing a bit, he cleared his throat.

“I’m not like you…trusting. It takes me too long to figure stuff out, sometimes…but I…Devon, I know you’ll be such a good mother for True…I just wish, I could…watch you.” The pleading in his voice was almost unbearable, as if every confession was prayer to whatever god was listening. Devon had stilled her ministrations, her hand resting softly over Danziger’s heart. She concentrated on its steady rhythm, let it distract her from the sensation of her own heart breaking.

“You will, John…you’re gonna get through this. You can’t give up--”

“Not givin’ up…just givin‘…instructions.” He corrected her, reigning in his emotions as best as he could. He continued with his eyes closed, as though to bare his soul and look her in the eye while he did so took entirely too much energy. “In the pocket of my tool belt there’s a vid chip…it‘s the only one I‘ve…It‘s Elle and I…the only one I‘ve got. Make sure you give that to…True, just in case…” He assured her, trying to take the bite out of what they both knew was nothing more than a series of last requests.

“I will, Danziger, I promise.” She capitulated, studying his expression, the pain visibly creeping back in around the edges. “Are you okay? Should I get Julia?” She asked gently.

“…hot in here.” He murmured, by way of an answer. Devon refreshed the cloth and set it on his forehead, a sigh of relief escaping his chapped lips. “I want Uly to have the belt…True will want the tools, but…you tell her I said to share them….with him, and that’s final…” A fleeting smile rushed across his relaxed face, giving Devon the strange impression of a dog dreaming of a bone. “You tell Uly he’s the…bravest person I’ve ever met. Never thought I’d get the chance to have a son, but I did…s‘how I always thought of him…you’ve got…special boy, Adair…don’t let True pick on him too much…”

Devon swallowed hard, struggling with every ounce of her being not to interject and tell him he could tell her son all of this himself when he got well. At the very least, she hoped he could rest easier getting all this off his chest. She could argue with him about this futility complex later, when the worst had passed and they both could laugh about it.

“There’s also a ring. For Elle. She wouldn’t…anyway, s‘hidden in my cargo bin…I was keepin’ it for…I didn’t really know why I was keepin’ it. Think I figured it out.” He confessed, opening his eyes again to reveal an almost entirely new color. What had been a deep lapis moments ago was now splintered through with streaks of gray. Whether it was the return of his discomfort or the sheer gravity of the conversation, a newly minted pain had taken up residence in the depths of his irises.

“I want you to have it, Devon…I want you…keep that as a…token…” He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to keep the cobwebs of sleep and the sting of tears in check. “I’m sorry…sorry I’m such a stubborn fool…ever since the day we landed on this planet…took our first vote…I knew it would eventually be yours.” He inhaled sharply, a rush of pain sending shivers through his body. “Everything else….trade it to the Grendlers…get somethin’ good for those…ugly shirts.” He wheezed out a chuckle. Perfect Danziger, Devon thought, to make such a profound offer and brush it off in his next breath. That was exactly why she had fallen in love with him.

“You keep it safe for now, John…we can discuss this again when you‘re up and around, and kicking yourself for giving away all your stuff.” She chided, unable to hold back a protest one second longer. He let out a harsh bark, a laugh even his exhausted body couldn’t contain.

“Okay…deal.” He whispered, kissing her hand again, as though now that the flood gates had been opened he couldn’t deny himself the contact. Eyes drifting shut, one side of his mouth curled up in a rueful smile. “Hear that, El, babe…’m oh for two…”

Devon could hardly make out the garbled words at first, but once deciphered they still didn’t seem to make much sense, and found herself suddenly wishing Julia would return soon. Helplessness was not something Devon was capable of dealing with, especially after all that Danziger had said, now that she’d finally been willing to listen to him. She stroked his cheek gently, unconsciously noting the fever heat that never seemed to lessen.

“Need a shave…” Danziger murmured, clearly on his way out, and it was Devon’s turn to laugh. He never ceased to amaze her.

“Well, I’ll see what we can do about that, Danziger.” She pinched his cheek gently between two fingers, immediately smoothing the spot with her knuckles.

Pain or no pain, it was clear that a few minutes of fleeting lucidity were enough to fatigue the mountain of a man, and Devon couldn't help but be relieved to see that by the time she'd turned back from wringing out the compress once again, he was well on his way into a deep slumber.

“Is it night?” He asked, his voice no more than a hushed exhalation.

“Yeah, it is, Danziger. Everyone’s asleep but you. Get some rest, okay? Julia will be back soon and she’ll get you more medicine.”

“Yeah.” He agreed, squeezing her hand again, this time with a bit more strength. “In the mornin‘…need to talk to…Walman…” He slurred, fighting to keep his eyes open a bit longer. “Think I….figured out…”

“First thing.” She agreed softly, grinning again, thankful his breathing was starting to even out. “Rest now, Danziger.”

“…thanks for…lettin‘ me win…“ He breathed, asleep before the last word could even leave his tongue. Devon kept her hand solidly against his cheek, greedy for the closeness and for the masculine texture of the coarse down against her soft skin. In her other hand, still anchored at his side, John's long fingers slowly unfurled like a flower.

The next time John Danziger surfaced, the landscape around him seemed frighteningly alien. Stirred from the maelstrom of nameless people and places of his opiate haze, he was swiftly struck with the sensation of falling. Jerking, his entire body tensing, he heard murmured voices soothing him, felt hands brushing his forehead and arms. Whether they were real or imagined, he didn’t have the slightest clue.

“’s cold…” He rasped, the pins and needles feeling he’d experienced so strongly just after his accident creeping into suddenly frigid extremities.

Seemingly senseless words seemed to float to him across a vast expanse, but the more he struggled to open his eyes the more leaden the lids became. The voices were male and female and, somewhere in there jumbled with the rest, was Devon.

“I know, John…trying…bleeding…”

“…nitrate…”

“…should I…True…”

“…NO!…”

“…get the other end…”

“…quickly…”

“ready, lift…”

The sensation of falling returned, much stronger this time. Like a slingshot he found himself propelled to full consciousness, unbearable pain ravaging his lower body. His red-rimmed eyes shot open, registering motion and bodies surrounding him, and strangely, the wall that should be behind him.

“Stop, please….DON‘T!” He found himself weakly shouting, and instantly Julia appeared above him, upside down, disorienting him further.

“It’s okay John, they’re done…we’re just elevating your legs a little bit…try to relax…” She assured, him, and from the edges of his blurry vision he could see Alonzo and Walman, gripping either foot of his listing cot. The pain began to recede in lazy ebbs, leaving him breathless.

“’s goin’ on?” He mumbled confusedly, his brain registering it’s surroundings in fits and starts. “Lonz…you’re back.”

Julia disappeared from view and Devon swept in to take her place, making him dizzy. Closing his eyes, he could feel her gripping his hand gently.

“Hey there, pal.” He heard Alonzo respond though the fog. “Doc’s just fixing you up.” The false cheer in the pilot’s tone was unmistakable.

A fit of shivers washed over Danziger, and he was suddenly aware of the cold air of the Med Tent, lapping every inch of his over sensitized skin.

“We’re gonna warm you up, John, just try and stay calm--”

“Keep squeezing that bag!” Devon’s quivering voice was cut off by a curt command from Julia, ominously hovering at the foot of the bed.

“No more, please…” He found himself begging, every slight brush of her hands on his legs igniting the flames anew.

“I’m sorry, John, we’ve got some new bleeding. I’ll try to be as gentle as I can, I promise you.” She spoke calmly, with the conviction Danziger had always found endearingly reassuring. “You’re going to be fine, okay? This is something I expected.” She lied.

A fit of lightheadedness overtook him, and in a desperate attempt to anchor himself to the present he pried open his eyes again to find Walman crouched at his right, watching him intently.

“That girl of yours is a genius, Danziger.” He grinned, edging himself closer to block the mechanic’s view of Julia’s activities. “She woke me up this morning, told me to get my lazy ass out of bed and come help her fix the Nav Beacon.” Immensely grateful for the distraction, despite the fear steadily rising within him, Danziger gasped out a snicker.

“You tell her…watch her language?” He asked thinly, smirking at his friend.

“Hell no! I know better than to talk back to a Danziger, size notwithstanding.” Walman countered.

Squeezing his eyes shut, John tried to rise above the pain. With all his might he concentrated on remembering what he had seen in the spiraling frenzy on top of the ‘Rover, aware this could be the only time he’d have to relay his findings.

“Rotator cuff’s rusted through…when she’s stationary, you can’t…should have thought…sooner.” He berated himself.

“Don’t worry, man…we’ve already started takin’ her apart…True’s retrofitting a rim from the DuneRail as we speak.” Walman informed him confidently.

“Smart cookie.” Danziger sighed, envisioning his little girl, sun glinting off of her messy braids as she tinkered with her tools, cross-legged on the soft earth. “Just like her mom.”

Walman nodded, patting John’s arm companionably.

“Did I ever tell you I think I met Elle once? Years ago, on a barge repair. I was never sure if she was your girl or not, but I borrowed her lazer cutter without asking and she nearly took my head clean off with it.”

Danziger guffawed, the unrestrained laugh morphing into a hiss of pain as Julia’s poking and prodding gained intensity. Her commanding murmurs growing louder.

“Yeah, that was her.” He confirmed through clenched teeth.


Walman chuckled a bit too loudly, barely masking Julia’s hushed instructions to Alonzo. Danziger struggled to lift his head from the mattress--did she just say amputate?

“Try not to move, John. Everything’s okay.” Devon assured him from her post behind him. She sounded like she was crying again.

“No…Julia, you can’t…” He his voice rose in panic, his free hand scrambling for purchase on something, anything solid. Handing Alonzo the instrument she’d been wielding, Julia left the foot of the bed and came to kneel next to him in the spot Walman had tactfully vacated.

“Danziger, listen to me.” She said seriously. “We’re going to stop this bleeding and you’re going to pull through this, understand?”

Blinking back the tears of exhaustion and fear, Danziger nodded faintly. At the corner of her mouth, their was suddenly a hairline crack in her facade, and before his eyes Julia Heller-- the woman he’d come to admire and care so much for in the past months-- broke through the chrysalis of her detached, professional demeanor.

“John, do you trust me to do what I have to, to keep you alive for your daughter?” She asked quietly. Danziger’s hand found hers, tracing the metal ridges of the DiaGlove until he could feel the soft pads of her fingers.

“Of course I do.” He whispered.

“Okay…” She whispered back with a watery smile. “Then I promise you two things: I promise you I’ll do everything I can to save your legs, and I promise you that I’ll find away to stop you from hurting anymore.”

Silent understanding coursing between the two of them and Danziger held her gaze until he could no longer keep his eyes open. With the warmth of Devon’s palm on his brow, he tried to breathe deeply as he felt Julia’s Hypogun rest lightly in the hollow of his jaw, sedaderm loaded. Then he felt nothing at all.

“…nothing I miss more than those little puff pastries from the bakery on the Level Four Promenade. Mmmm, I can almost taste them now! A little espresso, a stroll on the board walk. Perfect.”

John slowly climbed out of his blissful oblivion to the sound of someone speaking, his befuddled brain doing its best to account for his current status. He felt numb, mostly. He couldn’t tell if he was cold or warm, if he was covered with blankets or if his ruined legs were exposed, or even attached. Mostly, he couldn’t feel much of anything. For a few moments, he did nothing but lie there, relishing the absence of pain.

“You know, Morgan, I can honestly say I’ve never met someone so poorly suited to the beauty of nature in my life, you’re truly a marvel.” That was definitely Bess, he realized slowly, her soft drawl playing across his fuzzy brain like lemonade over ice cubes in summertime.

“What’s to like about nature, Bess? Unpredictability, unforgiving fury, little crawly things that get in your shoes. No thank you, I’ll take auto-tropic temp control and sweet, sweet sterility any time.” Oh lord, Danziger wondered dully, who let Martin into the Med Tent?

“Morgan, stop fidgeting. I’m almost through.” That would be Julia.

As tired as he was, Danziger couldn’t help but want to join the land of the living. Marshalling his strength, he ascended the final lofty steps to full consciousness. He tested the waters, fingers twitching against the soft fabric of his cot. Concentrating hard, he still couldn’t account for the lower part of his body. Surprisingly, he wasn’t remotely concerned, but rather singularly thankful for this respite. He was in a luxurious limbo, the kind that forgave all previous trespasses and instead fostered sheer docility. Maybe True was right, he did work too hard. Where was True-Girl?

“You know, I think after this ordeal, Danziger and I might finally be able to bury the hatchet. After all, it’s my blood flowing through those burly, veiny forearms, right? How you gonna argue with that?”

Enough was enough, no drug was that good. Cracking open an eyelid, he was shocked at the weakness of his own voice.

“Always figured I’d go to hell…” He grumbled, the generic lighting of the Med Tent giving him no clue as to what time of day, or what day for that matter, he’d woken up to.

“John, you’re awake!” Bess crooned, and he turned his head slightly to take in the scene.

Morgan wasn’t kidding, he realized, even has his eyes gradually focused on the bureaucrat perched on the stool next to his bed, trussed up like a turkey with Julia’s equipment, a thick stream of crimson oozing into one of Julia’s softly whirring machines. An equally ruby-red tube connected the machine to the crook of his own arm, which was starting to vaguely resemble Yale’s robotic appendage with it’s various inputs and outflows.

Danziger’s tongue felt as though it had grown fur, but just as he attempted to relay this fact, Julia approached from her bench at the worktable, carrying with her a tin mug.

“Hey, there, sleepy.” She greeted him, holding the cup to his mouth. “Go slow, Danziger, it’s been nearly a week since your body’s metabolized anything but intravenous nutrition.” She warned, but the mere coolness of the tepid water against his teeth was enough to satisfy him. Swallowing thickly, studying her delicate honey brow, the riot of the past few days flooded his memory like a freight shuttle barreling into port.

“Julia…” He spoke her name as though it was the beginning of a thousand questions. Much to his relief, her relaxed smile was the answer to every one.

“You’re almost out of the woods, John.” She proclaimed proudly, brushing her fingers through his tangled hair. “It was touchy for a while there, but when I went back in to stop the bleeding I was able to reinforce the femoral artery of your left leg, and almost immediately the blood flow to your extremities improved.”

Danziger grinned, lethargically registering what she was trying to tell him.

“No peg leg?” He mused, trying to glance down at himself, his head entirely too heavy for such an undertaking.

“I’m not going to promise you’ll be scouting any time soon, but they’re both there.” She teased, the significance of the small victory outweighing the uncertainty of the future.

“Be positive, Danziger!” Morgan chimed in, violently waving his tethered arm over his head as though he just scored a goal in a Lasercrosse match. John winced, wondering if Morgan’s donation would have any lasting ill-effects on his own personality.

“You’ve been under for almost three days, but the rest has done you good.” Bess assured him, forcibly lowering her husband’s arm as an afterthought. John couldn’t help but release a huge sigh of satisfaction, and Julia’s indulgent chuckle rang through the quiet tent.

Leave it to Eden Advance, the mish-mashed crew he’d found himself stranded with, to cheat death again with their own understated fortitude. For all the times he’d placed their fates on his shoulders, Danziger had never quite resigned himself to relying on them to seal his. It was about time he gave them all, even Martin, the benefit of the doubt.

“So Doc…” He inquired, pausing to take another small sip of the water when she offered. “I’ve been meanin’ to ask you…”

“What is it, Danziger?” She asked solemnly.

“Think that ZED bullet’s gonna leave a scar?” Before the stoic doctor could realize she’d been had, Morgan’s raucous laughter peeled through the tent, and Bess beamed as she came to sit on the edge of his cot, looking down on him tenderly.

“Danziger’s back.” She confirmed softly. He tried his best to give her a big smile.

Something crucial was missing, he realized, wishing he possessed the energy to reach up and rub his eyes and clear his cloudy vision.

“Where’s Devon?” He queried, glancing towards the ajar flap of the Med Tent longingly. Julia and Bess exchanged a knowing look that went almost unnoticed.

“She went to go round up True.” Bess confessed conspiratorially, an excited expression lighting her face. “We decided we’ve kept her from her Dad for long enough. We didn‘t think you‘d be awake, but here you are, right on the money!”

At the mention of his baby girl, so strong and independent, on his way to see him, John’s hazy mind reeled at the torment and uncertainty he must have put her through. His eyes immediately began to sting, even as his anticipation grew.

“True-Girl…” He whispered, closing his eyes as though her name was a salve to sooth all wounds. “Bess…Morgan…I can’t thank you…it means so much, that you kept her safe for me. I just…I wouldn’t have made it through this if I thought for one second I had to worry about her--”

“Don’t be silly, John! We loved having her with us, and she was so brave! You’d be so proud of her, she didn’t fuss once. She knew that if she was patient and calm her Dad would get through this and he would get well again, because he loves her.” John had always found it funny that the black and white mentality that was so unbecoming on her husband suited Bess to a T.

Overcome with emotion, Danziger savored her unyielding conviction and gentle honesty. A glance toward Morgan showed that even he was a bit teary eyed, watching their exchange with shy curiosity as Julia clamped the line in his arm and disconnected both men from the Transfuser. Danziger raised a shaky hand to wipe away a stray tear, resigning himself to the fact that sooner, rather than later, he’d have to learn to go easier on the guy.

“I hope she isn’t raisin’ hell. God, seems like years since I kissed her good mornin‘…” Methodically typing numbers into the control unit of the monitor, Julia quietly marveled at the human mind. For days Danziger had been suffering, and endless pattern of waking and sleeping, fever, delirium, cruel lucidity. And yet in his foggy, drug saturated brain it seemed he equated it to one long, terrifying day. Perhaps it was best for both parties that he didn’t fully grasp what Eden Advance, especially his traumatized daughter, had been through.

Worried in equal parts about telling John too much and keeping too much from him, she feared this would all change when Devon returned with True. After all, it would take more than hazy smiles and soothing words to erase what the girl had seen a few days back.

“Am I okay? I mean, to see?” The gravel beneath his reed-thin voice couldn’t be helped, John realized, trying in vain to clear away the fatigue. “I must look like a zombie arcade vid.” He worried sadly.

Julia shook her head dismissively, swiping at his arm with a cloth as she carefully disconnected the plasma link. “Compared to before, Danziger, you’re the picture of health. Besides, True is well-aware that her Dad is currently a trifle below par.” For all her causal posturing, the doctor suddenly seemed unable to meet his eyes. Bess eagerly agreed with Julia, her eyes shifting nervously to her husband’s as she spoke.

“She’s gonna be so tickled pink to hear your voice again it doesn’t matter if you’re a little run down.“ She assured him, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“What?” He asked softly, suddenly aware of the weight of the air in the room, laden with tension. “What happened?”

“John, it’s nothing.” Julia quickly countered, sitting on the stool that Morgan had recently vacated. “She just had a little bit of a scare, that’s all--”

“Devon told me…she promised me she didn’t see!” He cut her off, the anger and panic quickly climbing to his ashen cheeks. His shaking hands moved to pull back the blankets, as if he was lying prone by will and not necessity. Firmly, Julia took them in her own, reminding herself to tread softly, that Danziger still wasn’t even close to thinking clearly, and that by absolutely no means should he be made upset.

“Shhhh, she didn’t see the accident, you know Devon would never lie to you.” She reminded him. Against her palms his fingers flexed rhythmically, the frantic pulse of his unease. “A few days ago, after I operated to stop the new bleeding, she was working by the Transrover when she saw Devon walking to the outskirts of camp and decided to follow her. Devon had been looking for a secluded spot to wash some of the dressings and blankets, and True saw all the blood and panicked.”

“My poor baby…I’m so sorry.“ Squeezing his eyes shut, he winced reflexively as another set of hands, Bess’, fluttered across his brow in an effort to calm.

“Against our better judgment, Devon and I decided it was for the best that we let her see you for a bit, you have to remember you’d lost a dangerous amount of blood and it had been over four days with very little improvement.” His eyes opened again, flashing with conflicting emotions, anger and sorrow. “John, it wouldn’t have been right to keep True from seeing her father, no matter how upsetting it was for her.”

Danziger swallowed thickly, searching his mind for the faintest trace of memory that she’d been there with him, that she’d touched his cheek or gripped his index finger with her whole hand like she always did when she was scared.

“Did she cry?” He whispered hoarsely, his gaze flitting between Julia and Bess, desperately trying to read the truth from their expressions. He was met with twin porcelain masks, both sculpted with careful hands, unreadable.

Finally Bess’ cracked, but instead of revealing pity and sorrow he instead found a coy spark of amusement. There had been tears, all through the night and into the break of day, but in her father’s presence, sitting with her legs dangling from his sickbed, True had been the picture of strength.

“Now John, when was the last time a Danziger cried when things got tough?” She asked, her index finger tapping him gently on the nose. Danziger flinched again, distractedly wondering when he had become an oversized child to the women of Eden Advance.

“She told you jokes, mostly.” Julia confirmed, a tinge of modesty flushing her cheeks. “Although you may want to rethink letting her hang out with you and your friends at the bar.” She ribbed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard the phrases ‘Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?’ and ‘A hooker walks in to a bar’ uttered so close together. And I’m a politician!” Morgan chimed in from Julia’s workbench.

The throaty chuckle bubbled out of Danziger before he could catch it, and even Julia joined in, pressing his hands lightly before returning them to his sides.

“That girl…” He sighed, his Cheshire grin wiping away the last of his distress. “I figure, she’s damn well kept me alive for the last eleven years, shouldn’t be any different now.”

“Exactly.” Bess confirmed, her tone rife with conviction, as though she’d known the Danzigers for years. “Besides, you’re on your way to recovery, and you look much better today, so much so, in fact, that Julia and I have been trying to convince Morgan that his blood isn’t actually the secret of life.“

Danziger reluctantly looked towards the bureaucrat again, stifling a laugh. “Eh, don’t be so sure Bess…maybe he could bottle it, sell it to the Grendlers for scrap metal.” The Earth-Res swatted at his arm in mock consternation, even as Morgan himself let out a hasty guffaw.

“Hey, that’s good! He’s…ha…funny.” He nervously agreed, as though he could already envision Danziger happily pasting colorful labels onto the jars.

“Relax, Martin. I owe you for this, big time.” The big mechanic conceded, and almost immediately Bess began to chatter away the emotional tension in the tent.

“Anyway, we’ve spent all morning sprucing you up! Morgan and I brought the blankets from our bed rolls, so we could get rid of the…uh, stained ones you were using before, and just before you woke up we changed all your bandages and gave you a bit of a bath.”

Danziger wondered if he was pale enough to hide his rapidly blushing cheeks. Just the thought of everyone doting over him was enough to leave him thoroughly embarrassed.

“I know you’re excited to see True, but I don’t want you to over do it, Danziger, okay?” Julia scolded in advance, adjusting the blankets around the monitor still clamped to his toe. “The pain meds have got you feeling good for the moment, but they’ve been such a shock to your system I’m going to have to administer them pretty sparingly. Don’t get yourself worked up or you’ll regret it.”

“Don’t worry, no heroics…I’m having a bit of a time keepin’ my eyes open as it is.” He confessed, and Julia nodded distractedly, studying her monitors and dials.

“Why don’t you just take it easy till True gets here then?” Bess suggested, perusing the edge of his bed, adjusting and tweaking here and there, tugging his covers up a bit and smoothing out the wrinkles. Wearily, he let his eyes fall shut, summoning the strength to put on a show of fortitude for his little skeptic.

“There, all covered up.” Satisfied with a job well done, John felt the mattress sink as Bess took up her perch again. “You know John, at the rate you go through clothes, you’re going to be borrowing drawers from Morgan soon!”

For the sake of everyone present, Danziger shrewdly feigned slumber.

Devon had walked past the Transrover twice in her hunt for True before she noticed the small work boots peeking from between the front set of wheels. She’d been looking everywhere, even calling the little girl’s name, but apparently the pint-size mechanic didn’t want to be found. It wasn’t lost on Devon that she was burrowed in nearly the exact same spot where he father had been injured, and she was willing to bet all the Morganite on G889 that True was aware of this fact as well. She walked carefully around the front of the vehicle, sure to make enough noise scuffing her shoes in the dust so that she didn’t accidentally startle the girl, and took in the wistful tableau before her.

True was leaning up against the mammoth black wheel, her head barely reaching the apex of it’s circumference, with a pile of circuitry in her lap. Her father’s tools were spread haphazardly around her on the ground but her tiny hands were still, her gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. Maybe she hadn’t been hiding after all, Devon realized with the concerned sixth sense that belongs singularly to parents. Maybe she hadn’t heard Devon calling her name at all.

Kneeling carefully in the dirt her in the dirt, True finally realized with a slight jump that she was no longer alone. Her crestfallen expression fell, and she instantly lowered her eyes back to her work.

“How’s it coming, True-Girl? I‘ve been looking all over for you.” Devon asked softly, fighting the urge to brush the girl’s tangled hair out of her eyes. Her attempt at tenderness was instantly met with resistance, and True’s eyes flew up to hers with lightening-quick resentment.

“You don’t get to call me that.” She informed Devon gravely. “Only my Dad can call me that.”

Instantly contrite, Devon nodded seriously. “Okay, I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” Turning back to her work, True sat quietly, her entire body humming with suspicious anticipation of whatever horrible news Devon had inevitably come to give her. Devon gathered her nerve, desperate to allay the little girls fears.

“You’re Dad’s doing much better today. Julia thinks he might wake up pretty soon.” She relayed, keeping her tone light. Predictably, the younger Danziger was not impressed with her show of optimism. She continued to buzz away silently at the hot-blue metal in her lap in silence. “What do you say we go see him? Might be good for him to hear your voice.”

True snorted at this suggestion, finishing her welding before tossing the tool onto the ground with a ferocity that betrayed her attempt at indifference.

“It’s not like he can hear me.” She decreed matter-of-factly. “My mother wasn’t dead yet either, but she couldn’t hear my Dad.”

It still caught Devon off guard, to hear any mention of Elle Moor, but it was usually John’s slip of the tongue that brought the Danzigers’ past into sharp relief. In fact, Devon hadn’t heard True mention her mother since winter camp, when she’d mistaken Dell Curry’s transmissions for nighttime visits from her mother. Since then, True hadn’t given any indication that she’d learned more about her mother’s accident. To hear her speak of both her parents in the same vein was deeply unsettling.

Scooting a bit closer, Devon carefully wrapped an arm around the little girl, daring her to protest. She didn’t, but she didn’t stop her tinkering either.

“Your father gave us all a pretty big scare, didn’t he?” Devon asked softly, carefully gauging the child’s response. “Everyone’s been pretty upset. I know I’ve been downright terrified. I care for your Dad a great deal, and it’s impossible for me to even imagine moving on to New Pacifica without him.” From beneath her brunette halo, True issued a single sniffle.

“Accidents happen.” She informed Devon stoically. “You have to just take care of yourself and keep on doing your job.” For a split second, it was almost as though Devon’s mind had superimposed John’s deep, rumbling monotone over True‘s, so eerily identical were father and daughter.

Devon’s mind reeled at the perpetual sorrows, the desperate circumstances that had carved such deep trenches of indifference and harsh acceptance in the Danziger’s lives. She tried to imagine moving from place to place, not having any belongings, any true home, knowing bone-deep that there was no such thing as real friends and family. She couldn’t imagine a childhood filled with labor and uncertainty, a world built upon nothing but self-preservation. At eleven years old, True Danziger has frighteningly few certainties. She had only her father and the skills he had taught her.

“You’re Dad’s not going anywhere, True.” She spoke in a hushed manner, the threat of a sob squeezing the back of her throat. “He loves you too much to leave you behind, and that’s always been the truth.” The girl’s nervous hands finally slowed to a stop, her rail-thin shouldered quivering against Devon’s side.

“I don’t know how to do anything without his help.” True confessed, her own voice thick with tears. “I don’t even know how to breathe without him.” She whispered, worlds of maturity trapped inside lopsided pigtails and knobby knees.

“Now that I don’t believe for a second.” Devon teased, gently rubbing her slender arm. “You’re one of the best members of this crew! Just look at how much Walman needed your help, you can fix just about anything on this planet, I’d bet.” She grinned, absently realizing that such praise was not only well-deserved, but accurate. True was just as vital to the survival of Eden Advance as her father was.

True finally met her gaze, her wide brown eyes brimming with despair, the cheer Devon had hoped to restore nowhere in sight.

“I can’t fix him.” She whispered, the tears springing free.

Devon pulled the little girl into an embrace with all her strength, smoothing her soft hair and coarse shirt with her hands.


“Shhhh, sweetheart.” She whispered against the crown of her head. “He’s gonna be fine, you’ll see.”

“B-but…his legs are…” True hiccupped, drawing spastic breaths into her lungs, a week’s worth of shock and trauma flooding forth.

“Julia will do everything possible to fix him up, okay? If anyone can get do it, she can, right?” She asked rhetorically, “And we just have to keep positive and make sure he knows that everyone’s here to help him get well. He’s not alone anymore, he’s got a whole family of people who love him now, and we’re not going anywhere.“ Leaning away to tug at True’s chin with her hand, she coaxed her watery gaze upward. “And you aren‘t alone either, True, understand? I would never let anything happen to you. I promise you that, and I promised your father that, too.” Her soft whisper spoke volumes, and Devon’s shoulders sagged with relief when True snuggled back against her gently.

“He looks awful.” The little girl sighed, and Devon nodded, suddenly realizing she knew just the thing to ease the little girl’s pain. She needed a job.

“You should see him today, he looks much better than he did on your last visit. His color is coming back now, and Bess and I got him cleaned up a little bit this morning. There is one pressing problem, though. And your Dad was hoping for your help.”

Sitting up quickly, swiping a hand across her bloodshot eyes, True looked at her with a mix of uncertainty and expectation.

“What?” She asked, full of trepidation.

Devon reached into her pocket to retrieve Danziger’s old fashioned razor, wrapped safely in it’s grease-stained pouch. Wordlessly, with an air of ceremony, she placed it carefully in True’s hands.

Turning the gift over in her hands, fingers tracing the streaks as though they could remember how each one got there, True couldn’t quite hold back a smile. Standing quickly, nearly stepping on the instrument she had been working on, she left her Dad’s tools sprawled in disarray under the vehicle. Squinting as she emerged into the sunlight, she turned back to Devon almost as an afterthought, her mission now clear.

“He wouldn’t last a day without me.” She sighed with half-serious exasperation, her emotional armor slowly sliding back into place. Turning without another word, she made a bee-line for the Med Tent.

In the shade of the Transrover, watching the dusty seat of True’s pants as it stormed away, Devon wiped her own eyes.

“No, True, he wouldn’t.” She whispered.

Bess was beginning to think that True wasn’t coming. She’d been trying to quietly usher her husband out of the Med Tent to give father and daughter some privacy, but a part of her, the naïve subconscious that had blossomed under the companionship of True and Uly over the past year, desperately wanted to witness the reunion. Bess knew how it felt to be eleven years old and terrified, to suddenly realize that your caregiver had been stolen from you and that you now carried the burden of their responsibility on your shoulders. She’d survived with the support of her father, but she couldn’t fathom how she would have endured if she’d been alone.

For a week now, Bess had watched True run the gambit of emotions. She’d seen her trembling with furious anger directed in every which way; seen her cry so hard she struggled to draw air into her lungs. Now, after her disheartening visit with her father a few days back, True had spent the last few days pretending that he was already irrevocably lost to her. With a mature mind and a childish heart, Bess desperately wanted to see the girl‘s brown eyes meet blue. She longed for the moment True’s wounded heart discovered that her Dad hadn’t gone anywhere at all.

Of course, if Devon and the little girl didn’t return soon, Morgan would soon deplete the entire crew’s supply of Spirolina in his furious efforts to ‘refuel’, and Danziger, who was not-so-convincingly pretending to be asleep, might do just that and miss the visit all together.

“Morgan, honey, True’ll be here any minute, why don’t we go get you some proper lunch.” She suggested again, peripherally noting Julia’s slight smirk. A few months ago, even a few days ago, Bess would have instantly began backpedaling, trying to find some way to defend her husband’s honor. Now she was certain that, while they did still find him occasionally exasperating, the other members of Eden Advance had miraculously come ‘round to the notion that--while he may not always succeed-- her husband usually meant well.

“I think it’s important we give them some privacy, Morgan, True’s been pretty upset.” Julia chimed in, and at the doctor’s patient but pointed look seemed to finally strike home with the hungry lawyer.

“Okay, okay, we’re going. Jeez, bleed a man dry and then send him on his way!” He declared overdramatically, a teasing smile lighting his face as he stood from the workbench and rolled down his sleeve. Casting a glance at the faux-slumbering Danziger, Bess was sure she caught a hint of a smirk.

“You rest up, Danziger.” She whispered tenderly, rising from her spot on his cot. “Your medicine is on the way.”

As if on cue, the crisp crinkle of the tent flap signaled a hesitant arrival, and True’s head appeared in the folds like a skittish Koba looking for a snack.

“Is he still sleeping?” She asked, her gaze instantly falling on her father’s drawn features. Her voice was fraught with the concentrated effort of someone trying to hide a broken heart.

At the sound of his daughter’s voice, floating softly across the dwarfed expanse of the tent, something in Danziger’s psyche caught spark, and suddenly he realized he had been able to hear her, the last time she’d been by to visit. As clear as day, he could remember clutching for dear life to the hushed whisper; a dream, he’d thought, a hallucination. But even in his unconscious state his heart had recognized the faint murmurs for what they truly were: a lifeline.

His already closed eyelids suddenly weighed down by emotion, he spoke gently into the taut silence of the tent.

“She had mittens.”

At his strange declaration, the three adults in the room exchanged nervous glimpses, as though perhaps this visit hadn’t been such a good idea at all. Confusion etched a path across True’s face as well, but was soon replaced by a smile so bright it could have lit the entire Quadrant.

“The cat that swallowed a ball of wool?” She asked, not quite believing her ears. Testing the waters inside the Med Tent, she offered up a test question: “Why did the chicken cross the playground?”

Eyes still closed, Danziger rumbled a weak chuckle. “To get to the other slide.”

“Daddy.” True whispered, running to his side, fighting the urge to leap into his big, comforting arms. Instead, she climbed carefully onto the cot, leaning in to rest her chin on his chest. She brushed a small hand over his forehead as if to say ‘open sesame’ and was promptly met with the twin swimming pools of his expressive, deep blue gaze.

“Hey True-Girl.” He rasped, perilously close to loosing control of his emotions. He rubbed a hand up her back, tangling his fingers in the silken strands of her cinnamon tresses. “I missed ya.”

For a minute, the pair could do nothing but relish the closeness, their hands administering tender touches, silently draining away the venom that forced separation had built up in their systems. Neither noticed the Martins stealing away, or the tears that Julia brushed from her own eyes quietly in the corner.

“You could hear me?” True asked, her thumb stroking a lazy pattern across her father’s whiskered cheek. Danziger felt a sting at the disbelief in her big brown eyes.

“’Course I could.”

He wanted to say more, desperately wanted to convey everything he’d ever loved about the spitfire miracle with her cheek pressed to his heart. He wanted to tell her that even if she’d stayed behind on the Stations he would have been able to hear her thoughts; that still, months after they’d lost Firestein and Wentworth, he fell asleep every night savoring the resurrected bliss of watching her toddle in her ducky overalls. He wanted to tell her that every breath he drew belonged only to her. Instead, he said: “Gimme a kiss.” There’d be time for everything else later.

True scooted quickly up to eye level, painfully jostling him in a way he didn’t mind in the least, and squarely pecked him on the mouth, then on both cheeks.

“I missed you, too.” She informed him, her open-book expression giving him a glimpse of the suffering this latest chapter had caused her. “Devon says your gonna get all better.” She grinned, her fingers absently playing with the shell of his ear. “I think maybe, just this once, you should listen to her, Dad.”

The seriousness in her tone made Danziger snort, pulling her closer despite the trembling ache that had resumed it’s tour of duty through his battered body. Even Julia, doing her best to remain invisible on the opposite end of the tent let out a chortle. Suddenly sitting up, True stared down at him with grave concern.

“Am I hurting you, Daddy?” She asked in fright, and Danziger realized belatedly that perhaps his mask of imperviousness had faltered.

“Naah, I’m okay. It hurts worse when you’re not here, True-Girl.” He assured her, squeezing her arms reassuringly. Despite his certainty, she extricated herself from his embrace carefully, nervously eyeing his decorated arm. “Hey, it’s okay, baby, where you goin?” He asked lightly, tugging at her jumper.

“I’m just being more careful.” She brushed him off solemnly. “We all have to be more careful. Besides, Devon was right, you definitely neyed a shave.” Suddenly uncomfortable, she fumbled in her waist pouch for the razor, unable to meet her father’s eyes.

John decided to let it be for the moment, knowing that no matter how much he wanted to be invincible for her, the situation was what it was. This wasn’t a scraped cheek or a twisted ankle, and no amount of True-Girl Kisses were going to make him better just yet.

Just as Julia and Devon had been frank with her, he had to resign himself to what he must look like in this bed, and the inevitable consequences of his injuries. For the moment, regardless of how much it pained him, he had to let True feel what she was feeling, even if it meant she was too scared to touch him.

“You sayin’ I shouldn’t keep on growin’ it?” He asked taking mock offence, a shaky hand rubbing his chin. “I was thinkin’ we could see how long it gets, maybe you could just braid it for me, instead.”

Reluctant to be amused, True nevertheless let slip a Mona Lisa smile. “Don’t be gross, Dad. The last thing you need on that head is more hair.” Bustling with anxious energy, she left his side to retrieve a mug of water and a small cake of soap, practically shoving Julia out of the way to do so.

“True squared.” He teased, his usual response when she was right about something. Squeezing his eyes shut at the discomfort while she was safely distracted, he opened them to find Julia had been displaced to end of his cot, where she continued to add to her unending list of monitor readings. “What’s the verdict, doc? Those top secret cyborg attachments healing up?” She looked up and wordlessly smiled, acknowledging his attempt at levity though she didn’t think it would have much of an effect. From across the tent, her back to him as she readied his ablution, True sighed heavily.

“It’s not funny.” She informed him softly, and Julia watched as Danziger winced again, clearly floundering for control of the awkward situation at hand. He looked like a man on trial, nervously searching his surroundings for an ally. As it was, there was only an exhausted doctor, a troubled eleven-year-old, and the creeping pain that would no doubt set them both off.

“You okay?” Julia asked softly, already knowing the answer.

“Right as rain, Doc.” He bluffed. “A bit hairy, but I’m about to have corrective surgery.” Julia placed her HoloPad on top of one of the beeping gadgets.

“Maybe you should cut off some of that hair while he’s immobile, True.” She suggested lightly, catching John’s eye as he hesitantly glanced up at the depleted pouch of medication hanging above his head. She left his side as True returned, whispering “Forty-five minutes.” As she passed, lightly squeezing his arm.

“We made a deal, he can keep the hair as long as it doesn’t get longer than mine, right Dad?” She asked as she took up residence of the stool by his cot. Danziger noted that the mirth was back in her expression, that in her short jaunt away from his side she’d apparently worked out some of her conflicting emotions.

“That was the deal, True-Girl.” He responded softly, watching as her deft little hands quickly worked the dry soap into a foam, the way he’d taught her patiently when she was six years old.

“Try not to move, Dad.” She admonished, smoothing the lather gently on his pale cheeks. “I’ve never done this with you lying down before, I might slip and cut off your nose.” She giggled as he jerked his head purposely, getting a streak of soap on his forehead.

“Missed a spot.” He informed her, when she was nearly done, puckering his lips expectantly. Rolling her eyes at his insistence that she was still a little girl, but secretly eager to play along, she leaned in to give him another kiss. He sighed with such relief that she couldn’t help but pat his head gently.

“It’ll be okay, Dad. You’ll see.” She promised, wiping away the errant suds. Tilting up his chin with amazing care, she delicately got to work.

Danziger concentrated all his efforts on remaining perfectly still, doing his best to ignore the strengthening pain building in his lower body. Determined not to frighten his little girl, he opted to enjoy the companionable silence, not really trusting his voice to hide the ache. Sadly, he realized, cracking open an eyelid as True paused to wipe the blade, the emotional link they shared traveled in both directions.

Glowering at the blankets covering his ruined legs, razor poised in her hand as an afterthought, True reached over and silently sought out his index finger, wrapping her small hand around tightly.

“It hurts a lot, doesn’t it?” She whispered, studying his exposed foot, listing over the edge of the cot, perfectly void of even the slightest bruise.

Danziger was unsure of how to answer, sensing a challenge in his child’s muted question.

“Yeah, it does, Sport.” He sighed, wiggling his finger in her grasp. “I’m sorry that I scared you, before. Sorry you had to hear me weepin’ and wailin’.” He offered up; a feeble apology even to his own ears. He had no idea how to explain what it had been like, to feel something so horrible you wish for death even as you‘re begging to be saved. You didn’t even try, John realized, feeling helpless as another wave of fire crashed against his left leg. Those horrors where the exact things you were on this earth to protect your children from.

“I tried not to listen too much.” She attempted to comfort him, seeing his distress. “Bess and Morgan did a good job of trying to cheer me up. Even Uly was extra nice. It kinda made me feel worse though.” She confessed, resuming her task, the thin scrape of the blade across his skin thunderous in the hushed dome.

“Why, baby?” He asked, careful not to move his mouth, distractedly wondering how many minutes he had left until his next dose of pain block. It was getting increasingly hard not to squirm against the discomfort.

“He was letting me play with all his stuff, and always trying to hug me. So wasn’t Bess, even Morgan let us use whatever VG games we wanted to…but I…I just…” She finished shaving him with a final swipe of the razor, using the cloth to gently wipe away the remainder of the make-shift shaving cream. Stretching his newly shorn face, Danziger raise a hand to test it’s smoothness, craftily covering a pained grimace.

“Shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart.” He assured her, reaching up to cup her cheek gently. True was getting upset, and this was the last thing he wanted, but at the same time he’d much rather she fall apart in his presence, where he could soothe her as much as possible. He cared for Bess a great deal and he owed the Martins a great debt of gratitude, but he was the only one who he wanted raising his daughter. Old habits died hard.

“I don’t want a brother…and I don’t want new parents, I just wanted you.” She exclaimed softly, her lip trembling. “Daddy, I was so scared that I would never see you again…I could hear you screaming, and I didn’t want to see, but I wanted to be with you…” She dissolved into tears, and John exhaled a small sound of despair, reaching for her to come to him.

“Come up here with me.” He asked, half ordering, half begging. Fingers stretching in the minute gap between them.

“No! I d-don’t want to h-hurt you.” She cried, breath hitching violently, pulling away.

Frustrated, the agony in his lower body assaulting him with each movement, he fought to sit up on his elbow, frantic with the sudden need to feel his daughters heart beating against his own.

“True, honey…please! C’mere now, you won’t hurt me.” He implored, Julia creeping closer at the sight of his movement, obviously displeased. She bit her lip, determined not to interfere, but she hated the sight of Danziger’s obvious physical pain just as much as she hated his emotional suffering.

“True, it’s okay…come on, I’ll help you get up there so you don’t hurt him a bit, okay?” She found herself interjecting loudly, moving forward towards the girl even as Danziger slumped back in exhaustion. Carefully, gathering the intravenous lines at John’s side she swiftly delivered the little girl into her father’s arms, painstakingly guiding her legs to rest in a spot that shouldn’t cause him too much discomfort.

“Shhh, True-Girl, it’s fine…I’m fine…” He chanted, tucking the crying girl’s head beneath his chin to shield her from his discomfort.

“I’m hurting you!” She insisted, even as her hand came up to grasp a handful of his chest hair gently, his kisses falling on her hairline.

“No you’re not, baby…you could never hurt me, shhhh, now…It’s okay…don’t cry.” He gasped, his eyes red with tears. Julia did her best to situate the pair, and once True settled into her father’s warmth, both Danzigers seemed instantly better off. The little girl’s sobs instantly began to quiet, and even her father, with her gentle weight pressing into his injuries, seemed to teem with completion. She watched as he cooed and coddled his daughter, his deep, rich voice utterly void of any of the misery fleeting across his face. She checked her watch. Still at least a half an hour to go.

“I love you, Daddy.” True breathed, transporting John to the past, to their cramped little quarters on the Stations, when they shared a bed out of necessity, and True was too young to know that it was the Danziger way to stifle all emotions.

“I love you too, True-Girl.” He whispered, his eyes finally falling shut. “Why don’t you take a rest, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll still be here when you wake up, okay?” He asked tentatively, still weary of saying the wrong thing.

“Yeah.” She mumbled, her response lackluster and surprisingly grumpy. Danziger rubbed his hand in wide, calming circles over her back. He knew a tired True when he saw one.

After a few minutes, when True’s crying had fully subsided, Danziger felt her let out a huge breath, as though she’s been holding it since the news of his accident had first been relayed over gear. Neither one of them had noticed Devon creep into the tent, taking a silent seat beside Julia in the corner, both of them watching in awe as traditional medicine flew out the window. With his little girl beside him, John looked more comfortable than he had in days.

“Hey True-Girl?” He murmured, on the cusp of sleep.

“Yeah?’ She exhaled, not stirring from her position.

“Why did the cookie go to the doctor?” He slurred, his hand finally stilling in her hair as he let himself go.

“Cause he felt crummy.” True whispered in response, following her father into slumber.

The next few days showed a marked improvement in Danziger’s condition. Though he was still in a great deal of pain, his fever had receded to a slightly elevated temperature that Julia felt confident was the result of his body‘s increased white blood cell production, and not the presence of an infection. True had taken to laying her bed roll on the ground along side him most nights, and she had been voracious in her desire to understand every single piece of equipment and procedure Julia employed.

In fact, she’d actually ‘assisted,’ against the wishes of her vehemently opposed father, during Julia’s final surgical attempt at recovering any additional motor activity in his irrevocably damaged left leg. True’s calm demeanor and sense of pride that she’d finally in some way helped her father on a physical level was more than worth the tongue lashing she’d received by a groggy Danziger when he realized his edict been disregarded..

To say he was lucky to be progressing so well was a gross understatement, the doctor mused as she sat with her friends in the Mess Tent, absently choking down a much-loathed Spirolina bar. In her days in Residency on the Council Med-Deck she’s seen men with far less devastating injuries quickly succumb to fatal infections even in the sterile atmosphere. More often than not, they never even made it off the operating table.

Now that a bit of distance had been established from the crisis, it seemed that Eden Advance had begun to take for granted just how remarkable John’s survival actually was. Perhaps it was the long months they’d already weathered, vexed by the elements but always comforted by the knowledge that when the going got tough, Danziger would always manage to fix what was broken, find what was lost and to push any and all ‘shove’ the group might come across.

Now that he’d presumably weathered the worst of it, it seemed that the entirety of camp we’re just sitting around, waiting for him to leap from his bed with a clean bill of health. They seemed to think nothing of the fact that Devon Adair herself had decided against moving John for an additional week, despite her haste to get to New Pacifica. While the majority of her cohorts weren’t exactly privy to the details of their friend’s injuries, Julia would have thought that at least one of them would have figured it out by now.

Danziger wasn’t ever going to walk again.

She’d done her best to repair the damage, but the crimson labyrinth of arteries and veins mapping his left leg had been damaged beyond recognition, never mind repairs. His right leg had been spared some of the vehicle’s weight, and while she’d been able to reinstate blood flow enough to recover most of the feeling in that foot, there had been significant muscle loss. And then there were the endless ivory shards of splintered bone, teeming in the muscles on his left side like beached schools of fish. His pelvis had been much easier to align and set, but due to her lack of specialized drug compounds and the equipment she needed to make them work, Julia had found herself reluctant to even consider administering a bone-healer vaccine. There was simply no means at her disposal to target a specific area for fusion, and it was out of the question to risk any treatment that could further damage his legs.

More surprising than the groups lack of concern over the future of their journey to New Pacifica with only the limited skills of their chief of operations, was Danziger’s own lack of interest in his prognosis. Now that it was clear that neither leg would need to be amputated, he’d been doing his best to ignore his predicament all together. Julia would normally prefer that from a patient; would rather that he concentrate his efforts on resting and keeping up his strength rather than worrying about the future, but knowing John as well as she did, this curious apathy troubled her.

He seemed like he was in good enough spirits, he spent a great deal of time sleeping, which was to be expected, but when he was comfortable enough to have visitors he would do his best to joke with his friends or play games with the kids. But while the others seemed content to take his condition at face value, Julia had learned over the long days and nights spent at his side exactly when he was pulling the wool over their eyes. John Danziger was many things, but an actor was not one of them, and she’d learned to recognize the tell-tale signs pretty early on: the slow chuckle response to one of Uly’s tall tales when he didn’t quite trust his voice to mask the pain; the scrunched brow as he feigned concentration regarding Cameron‘s plans to modify the solar converter when he could hardly keep his eyes open.

Finishing her breakfast, hoping that True’s cajoling had gotten at least a few bites of something into her father’s belly, Julia stood to go check on her patient when the little girl stomped into the tent, slamming the untouched meal of mashed Spirolina and fruit on the table in front of her.

“He’s acting funny.” She declared, plopping onto the bench and resting her chin in her hand, elbows on the table. Watching the girl poking at the olive green goo in the bowl, Julia tried for levity.

“Is he acting funny as in ‘ha ha?’ Or funny as in strange?” She inquired.

“Funny as in ‘Grouchy Bastard.’” True informed her belligerently. She sighed, running her small hand through her hair, and unconscious habit she’d picked up from her father. “He won’t even try it! He says he’s not shankin’ hungry and if me you and Adair don’t stop trying to shovel stuff down his throat he’s gonna start crawling to New Pacifica just to get away from us. And I could hardly get him to open his eyes and look at me. He’s acting funny.”

Julia had found pretty early in Danziger’s recovery that it was nearly impossible to explain the pathology of pain to an eleven year old. He wasn’t dead, so True wanted him well, and she couldn’t seem to grasp the delicate balance of the situation. Her Dad would have days when he felt like a million credits, but then there would be days when he was tired and cranky and sore. Julia had tried her best to help True understand that she shouldn’t take it personally.

A blessing in disguise, the real go-between in this precarious dance between father and daughter seemed to by Uly. Even at his tender age, the boy had already found himself on both sides of the equation. He seemed to know when to drag True out to play and let John rest, or when to let the pair have some time alone. He even seemed aware that sometimes his mom and Mr. Danziger needed some privacy for themselves.

Now he’d gone with his mother for a much needed outing, looking for more fresh fruit, and Julia was stuck here with a sullen True and a crabby John, and there was no doubt in her mind that neither Danziger would budge an inch.

“Now True, your Dad wouldn’t want you to be using such language. Besides, maybe he just needs some more rest before he’s ready to try eating today. You’ll see, he’s just uncomfortable. He doesn’t mean to be so snippy. Why don’t I go see what’s bugging him, okay?”

“Suit yourself, I’m gonna go check on the vehicles. ‘Least I know the ‘Rail won’t squawk back.” She declared dramatically, storming out the way she came.

Making her way across camp, not for the first time feeling as though they’d been in the same spot for far too long, Julia watched Alonzo fall into step beside her.

“Someone’s cranky.” He commented lightly, and she turned to swat him.

“I am not cranky, I’ve just got a lot on my mind. Besides, there were no more seats at your table, and I don’t think I’m gonna be sitting on your lap in public just yet.” She chided, pinching his muscular bicep playfully.

“I could argue that point for sport, but I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about Danz. Just stopped in to say hello and he nearly bit my head off.”

Julia had been willing, even eager to take True’s complaints about her father with a grain of salt, but hearing the same report from Alonzo set off a twinge of concern deep in the pit of her stomach. Yesterday evening John had seemed to be in good spirits, and when she checked in on him very early that morning he’d been still sleeping soundly and all his vitals were good. Yes, he was almost due for another does of his “Junky Juice” as he’d begun to refer to the synthesized drugs, but there was no way he should be in that much pain. Besides, it wasn’t like Danziger to complain even if he was. Since he’d been more aware of his actions and in a clearer state of mind, he hadn’t so much as grumbled once. In fact, it was all she could do to tear a confession out of him when he was having a hard time.

What worried her more than the unavoidable pain was that Danziger’s hours of quiet introspection had begun to brush a bleak portrait of his uncertain future, and she had been hoping to beat him to the punch by openly and frankly having a discussion regarding his options.

He wouldn’t be trapped here like an earth pioneer forever, she planned to tell him, doing her best to rationalize in his stead. He could always return to the stations on the colony ship, fly home with his daughter and see what medical advancements the Stations had to offer. Of course, she didn’t want to dwell on the fact that the human body had it’s limitations, and by then his body would have made whatever adjustments were necessary for his shattered bones and torn muscles to heal. To reconstruct improperly fused bone and redirect muscle tissue growth would be vast undertaking, and even the best doctors on the stations couldn’t guarantee its success. More likely than not, he’d be light-years away from his friends, from the new family and the planet he’d come to think of as home and exactly where he’d left off, if not worse.

To stay on G889 would bring about it’s own set of hardships, and if it was nearly impossible for Julia herself to imagine Danziger going about his life without the strength and agility he’d built his existence upon, she couldn’t even imagine what it must be like for John. She’d hoped to have this conversation with him sooner rather than later, but it seemed like John’s accelerated curve of recovery had sped along his inevitable brush with denial as well.

That was of course, if he wasn’t just having a plain old bad day.

“I don’t think it’s anything but a case of the blues.” She feinted, leaning over to kiss her beau squarely on the lips at the entrance to the Med Tent. “Why don’t you give me a few minutes alone with him, and I’ll see what’s going on.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d be getting jealous.” The pilot teased, catching her by the waist for a deeper, more thorough kiss. Taking a moment to absorb his good spirits, Julia finally pulled away reluctantly, turning him forcibly around and swatting his cute behind to get him moving.

“Don’t flatter yourself, fly boy.” She ribbed. “And, hey! Save me a seat at lunch!” With a coy, over-the-shoulder smile, Alonzo headed off to the direction of the other Edenites.

The Med Tent was dark and cool, thanks to a portable refrigeration unit Magus and Denner had rigged to help keep Danziger comfortable during the long, sweltering days. From the entryway, it looked to Julia that Danziger was napping again, but as she made her way to the workbench to retrieve her DiaGlove she could see from the clenched jaw and too-still eyelids that it was a counterfeit slumber. He had the covers pulled up high, leaving only his head and his untethered arm free, the tubing from his line snaking it’s way under the covers loosely.

She knew from hard earned experience that he wouldn’t simply tell her what was bothering him, but she also hoped that their recent closeness would help him open up to her as his physician, if not a friend.

“I’ve been getting complaints about you all morning, big guy.” She informed him dryly, not surprised in the least when she didn’t receive a response. “You know, I realize you don’t have much of an appetite and your stomach’s upset from the drugs, but you really have to try to eat something, Danziger. You’ve lost a lot of weight, and I’m starting to get concerned.”

Still nothing.

“C’mon, John, quit playing possum.” She requested tiredly. After John Danziger, she couldn’t imagine ever complaining about a patient in the future. He would eternally be the comparison to which all others paled.

“I’m sleepin‘.” He growled, reminding her so much of True. Heredity was funny in that sense, she mused, how it seemed to work both ways. Or maybe it was simply that the Danzigers shared a deeper bond than any parent/child relationship she’d ever come across.

She moved to the foot of the bed, perusing each monitor to check that morning’s reading history of his vital signs. While the glove could do all of these tests quickly, Julia had rigged one of her data converters to constantly monitor and record his stats, and to alert her to any inconsistencies. Everything looked to be within normal parameters consistent with his injuries with the exception of his blood pressure and heart rate. Both were slightly more elevated than she would have liked. Something was upsetting him all right; he was either in pain--which was pharmaceutically impossible--or he was fuming.

“I don’t know how your parents put up with you when you were a kid, Danziger.” She quipped, pressing a series of buttons and waiting for the readout.

“They didn’t.” He responded gruffly, icily. A shocking answer, a test designed to either shame her into silence or dare her to continue. Julia was having none of his brow-beating.

“Well, I’m not sure I’m going to either.” She parried back, just as pointedly, unhappy with his white blood cell count. “What’s going on, Danziger? Talk to me.” She demanded with her infamous brand of clinical detachment. She moved to his side, typing a command into the DiaGlove’s keypad.

“Get that goddamned piece of junk away from me, Julia!” He snapped, his eyes suddenly open and alert, brimming with distress. Julia’s hand stopped short, startled by his fierce demeanor. She counted slowly to three in her mind, conscious of the paradigm shift from anger to rising concern in her analytical survey of them man lying before her.

Something was definitely not right.

“Danziger, I’m your doctor and I’m going to examine you.” She informed him quietly, though she made no move to employ the glove.

“Can’t a guy get some peace and quiet for five shankin’ minutes? I just want everyone to leave me alone.” He moaned, a genuine whine. She hadn’t heard that tone in his voice since the day of his accident, when she’d been unable to find the right formula to ease his pain.

“John, you scared True this morning, and you’re scaring me right now.” The quiet confession caused a flinch in his otherwise expressionless demeanor. “Now I want to help you feel better, but you have to tell me what’s going on and you have to let me scan you.”

“Later, please.” He begged, tiredly raising his forearm to cover his eyes, as though if he concentrated hard enough he could make her disappear. Julia had to smile a bit, having seen this behavior from Uly when he’d been feeling bad, back when they’d first crash-landed all those months ago. The man was a mystery, but she was going to scan him whether he liked it or not, and she didn’t see how he could realistically put up much of a fight. Danziger’s caustic words had no effect on her, and she knew as sure as she drew breath he would never lay a finger on her. Her gaze fell to his large hand, an instrument capable of such brute force and equal amounts of tenderness, and she was startled by what she found.

His fingertips were stained with blood.

There wasn’t much, as though he’d tried his best to wipe it away, but it was there plain as day, caked under his fingernails, smudged into the groves of his fingertips. Instantly alarmed, she knelt by his head quickly.

“John, why is there blood on your hand?” She asked, hoping the jagged panic of her jackrabbit pulse did not translate into her voice.

“There’s not.” He mumbled, even as his body went rigid.

Ignoring him, she gently took his arm, moving it away from his face. He attempted to jerk it away, but he was in no condition to put up much of a fight.

“What happened, Danziger? Answer me right now.” She demanded as she studied the garnet colored smears quickly. It was dry, had been for at least a few hours, but there was no mistaking it hadn’t been there yesterday. There was no sign of even a single scratch on his hand that could account for such residue.

“I’m fine, Julia, really. I promise.” He consoled, a tinge of compunction in his tone. Julia began quickly typing in the code for a Blood/Ox scan, wondering if the remorse in his voice was from guilt over his behavior or dismay at being caught.

“You’re not fine.” She countered simply, concentrating only on her scans. She didn’t like what she saw.

“Doc, honestly, there’s nothin’ wr--”

“Damnit, Danziger, cut the crap!” She interjected angrily, standing quickly to retrieve a readily mixed bag of plasma from a cooler by her work station. “Your white blood cell count is too low, your temperature’s up and my Nerve-Receptor scan is showing increased hyperalgesia.”

“In English?” He asked, bashfully, eyes squinted shut against the oncoming storm.

“You’re in pain, John! A lot of pain! So why won’t you just tell me what happening so I can treat you and not waste everyone’s time playing these guessing games!” She scolded, attaching the plasma bag to the vacant catheter above his head and angry tugging down the blankets to expose his attached arm.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

“John, what did you do?” She asked gravely, staring at the sight before her. The Dermiport had been roughly removed from his arm, leaving a ragged wound that was rapidly bruising as blood pooled beneath the surface of his skin. It was roughly bandaged with a scrap of material identical to the coarse linen he was currently lying on, and each of the thin plastic tubes had been shoddily tied off at the end, leaving tiny shimmering trails of amber liquid on the iridescent surface of the solar flannel.

“Julia, it’s not what you think! I’m not goin’ crazy--” He started, tugging his arm away when she began quickly removing his make-shift tourniquet.

“It is crazy, John! My god, do you have any idea what you could have done? You could be comatose right now, you could have gone into cardiac arrest--”

“I’m okay, Doc, I can handle the pain--”

“This isn’t about pain, John!” She shouted angrily, disinfecting the area and promptly tugging at his arm to get a clear shot at one of his basilic veins. “This is about infection and fever, dehydra--”

“No, Julia please, you can’t put it back in, I’m runnin’ out of time!” He begged, pulling his arm violently away from her grasp, even as it sent a wave of pain-induced nausea through his system.

“John, please! You’re making yourself sick--these medications are what’s keeping you alive, you’re not thinking clearly.“ She pleaded.

The last thing Julia wanted to do was to sedate him, it could dangerously compromise his blood-oxygen level, but it was obvious that she’s grossly over-estimated Danziger’s emotional well-being. She had to find Alonzo or Walman, anyone who was strong enough to keep Danziger still while she started a new line and got his vital signs under control. She just didn’t understand how something like this could have happened! He hadn’t been alone for more than a few minutes that morning- how long had he been planning this?

“I am thinkin’ clearly, Julia, I’m the only one in this whole shankin’ camp who is! It’s been almost too weeks now, we’re fallin’ too far behind schedule. Besides, I’ve only got a limited time window.” He was frantic now, willing her to understand his nonsensical words as he stiffly tried to hide his right arm under the bulk of his body, shivering at the pain each movement brought.

Unwilling to hurt him further, the doctor let out a growl of frustration stood quickly to call out of the mouth of the tent.

“Alonzo! Cameron! Could someone strong please give me a hand here?” She requested nonchalantly, hurrying back to Danziger’s cot, where he was clutching on to his own arm for dear life and murmuring anxiously, eyes closed against the pain.

“No, we don’t need them, you can’t do this to me Julia, I can’t live like this!” He fought off her feather-light attempt at coaxing his arm away from his side. Deciding against distressing him further, Julia knelt beside him carefully and instead placed a soothing hand on his forehead.

“Why don’t you relax and tell me what you’re talking about, okay?” She asked, her voice growing thick with sorrow at the sight of her friend in such turmoil. Sensing a momentary victory, Danziger collapsed backward in a huff, panting wildly. “The medicine is what’s making you better, Danziger. You won’t have this IV forever, but right now it’s very important that you--”


“I need that vaccine, Julia.” He demanded weakly, still cradling the arm in jeopardy.

“What’s up?” Walman stuck his head in the flap suddenly, alarmed by the sight that awaited him. Julia turned quickly and waved him away.

“Give us a minute, Walman, will you?” She informed more than asked. Knowing a precarious situation when he saw one, the brawny crew member was outside in a flash. Thankfully his instincts kept him just outside, ready to return at the slightest word.

“Now try and calm down, Danziger, and tell me what vaccine--”

“The bone healer vaccine, Julia, quit talkin’ to me like I’m twelve.” He berated in a quiet rush. “I read the damn medical waivers along with everyone else, hell, I even spent my last two paychecks on a dose for True just in case.” He was winding down now, his breaths getting deeper and more regular. “You have to administer the vaccine in advance because there’s only a small time window before the fracture starts to set on its…ah, shit! Shankin’ legs!” He groaned, tossing his head back listlessly.

“Oh, Danziger…you should have told me, we have to talk about this.” Julia spoke tenderly, the mechanic’s rash behavior suddenly making too much sense.

In order to correctly absorb the bone healer into one’s system the patient in question was required to have a completely clear Tox Screen. Back on the Stations, Medics usually even recommended that anyone scheduled to receive the vaccine should abstain from even the most mild pain blocks, as well as caffienated foods and beverages for maximum effect. John had been leery of her reluctance to discuss his prognosis and so he had taken matters into his own hands. She had completely underestimated him once again.

Placing one of her hands gently on his battered arm, he flinched, ready to struggle away. “Shhh, I won’t do anything just yet. Let me clean you up.” She coaxed, and sensing she would be true to her word he allowed her to ease his arm gently into her lap. “I’m so sorry, John. This whole thing is my fault. I know I haven’t exactly been forthcoming with your options, but I thought it was best to wait until you were more comfortable.”

“There’s no time to discuss this, Julia. As soon as my system’s clear I want that vaccine. My body, my decision.” He demanded, resigning himself to discomfort he’d brought upon himself.

“John, I…you have to realize that the Tox screen is the least of our worries. There’s nothing I would like more than to synthesize you a vaccine, but it’s just too dangerous, Danziger. I’ve realigned the pieces of bone that weren’t too damaged, but I still had to remove a great deal of tibia in both legs, and your muscles are- shin bone-” She backtracked slightly at his look of frustration. “- And your muscles are still riddled with shards and splinters. I’m going to have to go in and remove later, once the muscle tissue has begun to heal a bit more.”

“Yeah, but the pelvic fractures aren’t so severe, right?“ He asked, calling her bluff. “Just give me somethin’ for that, at least I’ll get some mobility back, so I can--”

“Danziger, it could kill you.” She came clean, reaching up to squeeze his shoulder until he met her eyes. “There’s a good chance that the gaps in your bone structure would be at least partially filled in by the healing compound, but the injury is so extensive. John, one millimeter off and you could end up with even more damage, permanent damage worse than you‘re currently facing. Any one, one of those practically microscopic shards of bone could shift in place cause catastrophic internal bleeding in seconds.”

Grinding his teeth against the agony, he grunted: “So we take ‘em out first.”

“That’s impossible, Danziger, even when I do go back in to clear up the worst of them I’ll still be leaving dozens of tiny shards behind.”

“I don’t care, Doc, it’s worth the chance.” He insisted, but his voice had softened, as though she hadn’t changed his mind but had succeeded only in making him more terrified than he already was.. “Even if it doesn’t work, it’s still worth the possibility that I might be able to…even if it’s not…Julia, I can’t spend the rest of my life in the damn ATV or an ElectroGlide Chair! How can I protect True like that? How can I get us safely to New Pacifica?” He sighed, letting out the smallest of whimpers as his throat worked to swallow a moan. “How am I supposed to look Adair in the eye knowing all she can see is a cripple Drone? I promised her I’d always look after her kid.” He professed softly. “I promised myself I’d always look after her.”

Julia’s life had been built on absolutes. She was programmed to err on the side of caution, and whenever the odds were not in her favor she’d been steadfastly taught it was wiser not to gamble at all. Looking in John’s glassy eyes, however, she realized that Danziger was right. At the end of the day, he had a right to decide what medical procedures he chose to receive. But she didn’t have to make the decision any easier for him, and she refused to let him make it alone.

“Danziger, I want you to listen to me for a minute. I’m going to give you a small dose of your ‘Junky Juice’ with my Hypogun, okay? It’s just a one shot deal to take the edge off and help bring down your heart rate, cause I’m not going to even entertain this notion of a bone healer vaccine when you’re lying there trying to give yourself an aneurysm.”

She didn’t get a response, not a quip, not a refusal. There was just the slow steady hiss of John’s breath being forced through clenched teeth in small staccato pulses, and she knew his pain must be tremendous. With a weary sigh, she rubbed her hand gently over his chest, quickly retrieving the loaded instrument.

“This was really stupid, Danziger.” She reminded him once again, placing the gun against his jugular and quickly pulling the trigger.

“Yup.” He whimpered in agreement, bringing a smirk to Julia’s face.

“You know, you can talk to me about anything, John. As you’re doctor I’m sworn to secrecy and as your friend I will personally smack you senseless the next time you decide to perform your own medical procedure.”

The medication had begun to radiate throughout John’s body, in reality a much bigger does than Julia had made it out to be. Danziger’s locked muscles slowly liquefying into a tranquil puddle, he cracked open an eyelid and took the doctor’s hand in his own.

“Julia…’m sorry.” He slurred, his angry-ocean eyes swirling with regret and guilt.

“Shhhh, Don’t be, Danziger.” She assured him, loading up the gun again with an Immuno-boost, patiently waiting for him to nod off so she could administer it without hysterics.

“Please don’t put it back…please.” He mumbled, his eyelids fighting against gravity.

She gently rubbed the spot where he’d so roughly pulled the device from his forearm, tracing comforting circles as a way to reassure him he had her word.

“I’m going to call Devon and tell her that there’s something we need to discuss, all of us, you, Devon, True and myself. If you’re going to risk this course of action then I think it’s important that they understand the risks involved.”

Danziger’s brow furrowed and he stirred, as if trying to remember how his tongue worked.

“Disagree and you’ll have to find yourself another physician, John.” She reminded him cheerfully yet menacingly, and he snickered breathily.

“Doc, tell True I didn’t mean to…be a grouchy bastard.” he murmured thinly, wiggling his fingers in her grasp experimentally. Julia had to laugh, both at his spot-on diagnosis and at the palpable relaxation he was exuding.

“Oh, she’s got your number, Danziger. I don’t have to tell her twice.” She assured him.

“Didn’ wan’er ta see.” He garbled, and Julia shushed him again, swinging her gear eyepiece into place to hail Devon even as her ever-active DiaGlove registered Danziger’s neurotransmitter activity was conducive to sleep.

“I cannot BELIEVE that you would do something this stupid! It blows my mind!” Devon stormed into the tent as though the devil himself was on her heels; seething mad and chomping at the bit to give the mulish mechanic a piece of her mind. At her raucous entrance, Julia nearly leapt off her stool, and True, sitting on the edge of her sleeping Dad’s bunk with his thick arm wrapped loosely around her waist, let out a squeak.

“After all this group has done for you! After all the hours Julia has spent caring for you and so help me God, John Danziger, if you don’t stop pretending you’re asleep every time you don’t want to deal with me I’m going to knock you unconscious myself!” She finished, looming with her fists digging groves into her hips.

Clearing her throat delicately, careful not to make eye contact with True and lose her professional demeanor, Julia fought the urge to snap back at the tactless leader.

“Actually, Devon, John is asleep.” She informed her softly, and Devon whipped her head back in the direction of the bed just in time to receive a warning glare from True. “We just got him settled in.”

“Was asleep…” Danziger mumbled groggily, wincing at his rude awakening. True sympathetically patted the arm in her lap, recently bandaged and still catheter free. At first, she was just as angry at her father as Devon was, but that didn’t mean she had to go around screaming and shouting, either. Her Dad had done something really, really dumb, but by now everyone had figured that out, and it was a fitting punishment that he felt so crummy.

The last thing he needed from Queen Adair was twenty tongue-lashes to get him all worked up again. Geez, didn’t Devon know better than that?

“Devon, I think its best for everyone to stay calm and discus this sensibly. John knows that what he did this morning was incredibly rash, but in a way he’s right--by not giving him all the facts we were being unfair.” Julia spoke on his behalf, clearly still guilty that her silence had brought on his reckless behavior.

Devon didn’t really see how the two things were related. John had been very sick, and now wasn’t the time to even consider such a dangerous procedure. By keeping information from him they had done nothing wrong, they were merely protecting him from further harm. Of course, Danziger wasn’t content until he’d put his own safety in jeopardy for the sake of the group, so he’d found a way regardless of their help to the contrary. Curse that man, when was he going to figure out that all the group really needed from him was friendship and well-being, repairs be damned?

“Danziger, I will not allow you to do this!” She hissed, even as she realized just how arrogant her words sounded. In her mind she knew that a blatant show of superiority would do nothing but strengthen his resolve, but she was just so angry and scared that she couldn’t seem to relay that fact to her mouth.

Danziger, who up until this point had been groggily taking her tantrum with a grain of synth-salt, nearly choked on the air in disbelief, so thick was the haze of Devon’s self-righteous indignation.

“Where do you get off thinkin’ I’m lyin’ here waitin’ for your permission, lady?” He spat in response. Despite the hushed quality, there was no mistaking the resentment he felt towards her haughtiness. In fact, Devon silently noted, he hadn’t called her ‘lady’ in months.

Suddenly, she realized with dread in her heart that this one errant display of authority could very well have undone all the careful give and take she and John had endured to achieve the symbiotic relationship they’d only just begun to enjoy. It had taken twice as long for Danziger to accept her trust in him than it had for her to give him that trust in the first place. Now it was her intense fear of losing him, this man she cared so much about, that had her driving him away.

“Danziger…John, I’m sorry. You’re right, it’s not my decision to make, I didn’t mean for that to sound so--”

“Snooty?” True supplied in an even tone. Danziger pulled on her shirt, glowering at his daughter from his sickbed with a fury that would melt ice.

“True Eleanor Danziger, apologize!” He ground out, eyeing Devon embarrassedly. To his surprise, she was smiling,

“It’s okay John, she’s just kidding.” She assured him, winking at True knowingly. Danziger hadn’t yet realized the tentative bond she and True had formed in the recent past, that she knew now that the girl’s blunt nature wasn’t meant as disrespect, but was rather a badge of honesty that time and maturity hadn’t yet tarnished.

“No she’s not.”
“No I’m not.”

The twin responses from the Danzigers rang out at the same time, one angry and the other argumentative. Devon’s smile only broadened.

“You’re right True, it sounded awful.“ She conceited, distractedly amused at John’s agape expression. She twisted her fingers at her sides, desperate to convince him that old habits died hard, but she wasn‘t the same woman he‘d clashed with his first few days planeside. “And I never meant to imply that I don’t trust your judgment, John. It’s just that--”

“In this case you do.” This time Danziger finished for her himself, a slow grin taking the sting out of the truthful words. No matter how obnoxious she was being, he could sense the fear and desperation just below the surface. In fact, high and mighty Devon Adair looked as though she might cry again, and she’d been doing far to much of that on his account for Danziger’s liking.

Letting out a harsh laugh, Devon did her best to force herself to relax. Content that her impetuous outburst hadn’t started World War V, she let out a sigh and took up residence of the stool by John’s bunk.

“Yeah, in this case I do.” She agreed, offering her hand when he untangled himself from True and reached for it. “You know I’m just worried about you, Danziger. I don’t know what life on this planet is like when I’m not worrying about something.”


“Well, all the worry in the universe ain’t gonna get me out of this bed, Adair. Besides, worryin’s my job, and I’m doin’ enough of that for everyone in camp.” His soft tone played over her senses like the reedy, calming quaver of an oboe. The solid strength of him was still there, hidden in the rough.. “But I’ve gotta do somethin‘, even if it is risky.”

“Don’t you think you’ve already risked enough?” She asked, her gaze drifting to True, who sat quietly by her father, gaze downcast, picking at a piece of loose tape on his bandage.

“What is it you blue-blood’s were always spoutin’ back in the days of the Sky-Launch?” He asked, using the term with affection rather than insult. “I remember an old vid-chip of my Grandparents, goin’ on and on about a better life for the Danziger family.” He paused, eyes closed in concentration, trying to recall the correct wording. When he had they opened, flooding Devon’s world with blue.

“‘Pray to God, but Fly for the Stations’, right?” She frowned, both at the antiquated propaganda employed by her ancestors and where she knew he was headed with it. “I’ve gotta try something, anything… even Julia understands that! If I lie here and just take it my life is over, Devon.” True glanced up at her father wearily, and his free hand came up to rub her back reassuringly. “At least then I know I tried, even if I end up right where I started.”

“You could wind up killing yourself, and for what? You were incredibly lucky to have survived this at all, Danziger. Why don’t you just wait, when the colony ship comes, you can go back with them and seek better treatment, on the stations you’re a free man--”

“On the stations I’m a dead man, Adair! Credits or no, the council tried to kill us! By now they’ve covered it up, announced us all deceased twenty-three years ago and moved on!” He huffed a bit, seemingly disbelieving of Devon’s naiveté. Seeing the warning glares shooting at him from three irate sets of eyes he curbed his temper. “Whether I planned for it or not, I think the only place I was ever meant to be a free man was on G889.”

He tugged Devon’s hand closer, giving her knuckles a quick peck that did not go unnoticed by Julia and True. The doctor mentally filed it away with all the other damning evidence the group had surreptitiously gathered in the month prior to John’s accident. It seemed this wake up call had affected both parties involved.

True on the other hand, while not exactly thrilled at the prospect of sharing her father, just wished they’d hurry up and figure things out already. She had never seen her father so happy as he had been recently with Devon, and if anyone on this crazy planet deserved a little happiness it was her Dad. Especially now.

“C’mon, Devon, you know I could never leave here. I couldn’t leave all this space, the wind…you.” He finished so softly she had to strain to hear. “I want to try this, and I want you to have faith in me and my uncanny streak of immortality, just this once.”

Devon had never thought she’d find herself in a position to be sweet talked by Danziger, but here she was, and dear lord it was actually working.

“You don’t have to do this, John. You don’t have to prove yourself to me or anyone else. We’ve come to rely on your for too much--and it has nothing to do with physical limitations.“ He winced at the thorough glossing over she was giving the situation. Things had been going too well lately, and the group had settled into a comfortable rhythm, but that didn’t mean the circumstances wouldn’t change in a flash, and when push came to shove he would be a hindrance at best, but more likely a liability.

“C’mon Adair, don’t go forgettin’ all those arguments we had when we first landed. It’s still about survival, it’s still about gettin’ everyone to New Pacifica, but not at the expense of someone‘s life. I refuse to be another useless piece of cargo for everyone to haul around. I won’t put you all in danger.”

Devon wanted to be shaken by his dismissive attitude, but at her core she couldn’t help but see the truth in his statement. Not that she thought for a moment that she or anyone in Eden Advance would ever think of their beloved John Danziger as a burden, but she could all too easily see this deep admiration for the man clouding their judgment in a crisis. It would destroy him to know that someone had been hurt or killed taking his place in a combat situation, or while trying to protect him from further harm.

“You know that’s not the truth!” She tried one last time to rationalize with the bullheaded mechanic. “What about Alonzo’s broken leg when we first landed, or…or my mandatory bed rest when we left the Anson’s ship?”

He shook his head dismissively, his fingers absently twirling a piece of True’s hair.

“Not the same, Adair. Those were temporary conditions, and even so there was a whole lotta lost sleep, and way too much hesitation. You just said it yourself, Devon, there’s too much to worry about on this planet. I won’t make my problem everyone else’s. Let me try this thing.”

In the end, when she looked back at the way events had unfolded, Devon realized that it was Danziger’s soft request that swayed her resolve. It was his acknowledgement that he wouldn’t push the issue any further without her support that made her truly understand how much she meant to him, and that he had come to look to her for guidance as much as she found herself needing his.

Not taking her eyes away from Danziger’s open expression, she spoke hesitantly.

“Julia, do you honestly believe this is the right thing to do?” At her question, John’s eyes fell shut, as though now that she was on the way to capitulating he could rest easy in her hands.

True grinned, also sensing Devon’s imminent approval. She knew that her father had sealed his fate, and that he was putting himself in danger, but she also could understand exactly why he wanted to go through with it. In all her nightmares and sweetest dreams since her Dad’s accident, she hadn’t ever once been able to imagine him without the ability to walk. As Wentworth always used to say when things didn’t work out: ‘It wasn’t in the cards.’ Now True realized that this phenomenon could work both ways. Not only did she have complete faith in Julia, but she was pretty damn proud of her Dad for being brave enough to insist, even when she could see his legs hurt real bad. Everything would be okay. Seeing her Dad in an ElectroGlide chair or some other contraption just wasn’t in the cards.

“Well, normally I wouldn’t recommend it, but the risks aren’t without equal benefits if we can pull it off. I think due to our precarious circumstances on this planet and Danziger’s advanced rate of recovery when he’s not shanking with the equipment,” She snuck the dig in seamlessly, a conscious effort on her part to draw a giggle out of True. “He’s got just about the best odds possible for something like this.” Just as she’d predicted, there was a glimmer of amusement behind John’s tolerant shake of the head. She had always suspected the way to True’s heart was profanity.

“You’ll see, Devon. My Dad’s strong enough to get through this, right Dad?” True asked encouragingly, and John smiled sheepishly.

“Sure thing, True-Girl.” He spoke with a touch more conviction than he actually felt, reaching up to stroke her free-flowing hair.

“While we were waiting for you we figured I can most likely have the vaccine synthesized by tomorrow evening, and if I do my recon surgery while it’s cooking John’s system might be cleaned up enough to attempt the injection by the next morning. He may be an idiot but he is right about one thing, our window of opportunity is almost gone.” True giggled again, fighting the urge to poke her father back, when he tickled her ribs for laughing in good fun.

“Never gonna live it down, am I, Doc?” John asked good-naturedly, thoroughly enjoying this rare view of Julia’s sassier side. She’d been at it for the last few hours, taking every opportunity to subtly remind him that despite her good humor, she was still more than a little angry at his lack of judgment. “Little traitor.” He added with a soft growl in True’s direction.

“Not in this lifetime, Danziger. After this week I’ll be very insulted if you don’t name your next child after me.” She teased.

“If I do that now, will you cut me a break?” Turning to True, he smiled a big gap-toothed grin. “Hey Julia, would you tell Julia here that there’s no way in hell your watchin’ this operation?” He asked his daughter coyly, and True, despite her disappointment, played along. She was just happy to see her father joking around.

“Awww, c’mon Dad! It was really cool checking out all your insides like that, and you know I want to be doctor when I grow up! We Julias make the best doctors!”

“No way. Nope. If I wake up and see you standing there with the DiaGlove on I’ll personally climb out of this bed and hunt your lovely namesake down. That’s an order, Junior.” Rolling her eyes, Julia just shook her head and went to her workstation to get started.

Devon had been watching the comedy stylings of the Med Tent Trio in a stunned sort of shock. When exactly had their doctor become so…adorable? It seemed that when she’d driven away from camp this morning she’d left her optimism behind, and Julia and True had stolen the loot.

All it took was another glance at Danziger, however, for her to recognize she hadn’t seen him in such good spirits in days, despite the pain he was feeling. He needed this hope, she realized. Whatever came next they could deal with together. She watched him pull True in for a careful kiss on the cheek.

“Hey Julia-Girl, why don’t you go outside for a bit and find Uly, okay?” At the sound of her name, the doctor turned, only to realize belatedly that two could play the ‘I’ve had just about enough of you’ game. Seeing that Danziger was talking his daughter, she shook her head again, deciding to step out for a breather before she got down to work. From the looks of things, John was headed for sleep, but the fact that he was shooing True made her suspicious he was fishing for some alone time with Devon.

“Come on, Julia.” She called the little girl, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “Let’s go find Uly and you two can help me organize my equipment. I’ll even let you play with the MicroMend. I think your Dad needs a nap.”

Reaching down to cup her father’s chin gently in her small hand, True leaned in until their noses were practically touching.

“Don’t do anything else stupid while I’m gone, Daddy, okay?” She asked, her tone laden with consternation.

“Promise. You be good, Baby.” He responded seriously, turning his head to watch her as she scampered off behind Julia. “Hey!” He called to his daughter, as an afterthought.

“Yeah?”

“Just because Julia’s started talking like a sailor doesn’t mean you get to go around cursing, too. Understood?”

From under Julia’s arm, half in and half out of the tent, True raised her hand in a salute.

“Aye, Aye, Captain!” She barked with a grin, before she was off like a shot with Julia not far behind.

Devon let out a slow chuckle, bringing John’s hand to her own lips in a tardy response to his earlier gesture.

“I’m not sure I want to know how you managed to win Julia and True over with this little scheme of yours. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Julia so animated.”

Danziger let out a throaty chuckle. “Well, you know…boyish charm and all.” He teased.

“Oh, is that it, you think?” She asked innocently, leaning in to smooth a hand across his brow. “You know, Danziger, I might have chosen a different tact earlier if I had known I was walking into an ambush and not a war zone. I honestly expected everyone to put of more off a fuss over this, especially True. I still can’t believe I’m supposed to sit here while you put yourself in danger again.” Devon found herself getting choked up at the mere thought of the agony the vaccine would trigger, at the thought of the torture of waiting for his system to clear. This prospect was somehow even more upsetting than pondering all the risks involved. “I know how much this means to you, and I know if anyone is strong enough to make it through this it’s you, but that doesn’t make it any less hard for me to take.”

“Hey, shhhh, now. Don’t go gettin’ all upset over this, okay?” He purred, tugging on her arm until she found herself lying gently on his chest, her face pressed against the steady pulse at his throat. Letting out a sigh, she allowed herself to relax into his warmth. “You gotta trust me, Devon.” He breathed, and a small laugh escaped her that sounded perilously close to a sob.

“I do trust you, John, that’s what scares me. If your wrong about this, then you’re wrong for both of us. And I hate being wrong, do you hear me?” She chided, pressing her lips against his neck in a feather light caress.

“Really?” He whispered back. “Funny, you bein’ wrong doesn’t bother me nearly as much.” Devon thought she would drown in the waves of John’s soft laughter, relishing the singularly erotic feeling of feeling them radiate through her own body, the sweet vibrations singing a song that made every cell in her body start to dance. She felt them give way to a shudder, heard the hiss on his intake of breath, but couldn’t seem to make herself move.

“Am I hurting you?” She asked, her own voice pitched in a near-whisper.

“Naah, You’re fine where you are.” As if to assure her of this fact, John’s hand came up to cradle the base of her skull, massaging gently. “What is it with all you people always thinking I’m gonna break?” He asked lightly, but the attempt at levity fell flat, lost to the sudden energy humming through the tent.

“It’s just hard for us to see you in so much pain, John. We’re all scared of making it worse. It’s horrible watching someone you love suffering.” The words were out of her mouth before she was even aware she had uttered them. She had intended to speak for the group, but her tender declaration hit the atmosphere with the thrill of an intimate confession.

She felt John’s soft intake of breath, felt his hand pause against her neck, and instead of the awkward fear and embarrassment she knew she should be feeling, there was an intrinsic rightness in her admission that left her with nothing but an intense feeling of freedom. The truth was out.

“Devon…” He whispered, her name echoing like a prayer in the silence of the tent. With tremendous care, Danziger gently guided her mouth up to his with the delicious pressure of his strong hand tangled in her hair.

Everything about John was electrifying, the tentative brush of his slightly open lips against her mouth, the nuzzle of the tip of his nose as it traced a path along side her own. She heard him utter a slight gasp, as though in the wonder of the moment he’d forgotten that it was he himself who had initiated the kiss. But when his lips found hers for a second time, Devon lost the clarity to savor the minute details, and found herself adrift in the feel of him, the taste of him, and the elemental strength he’d conjured up from the recesses of his battered soul. Her first kiss from John Danziger was exactly what she’d always imagined it would be.

“Huh. Didn’t think it would happen this way.” He whispered, his hot breath against her cheek a few moments later, and Devon had to chuckle. The yin to her yang in every respect, leave it to Danziger to observe the same event from the polar opposite point of view.

Planting a wet kiss on his forehead, Devon snuggled against him as much as she could without causing him further discomfort.

“What were you expecting, Danziger, fireworks?” She asked teasingly, unconsciously stroking her hand along his thick ribcage.

“Always thought I’d be able to hear the ocean.” He confessed softly, and Devon was touched both by the romanticism of his profession and the consideration he’d paid to her journey, which had somewhere along the miles become their journey.

“Also thought I would have had the chance to buzz my teeth.” He added with a quick grin, and she squeezed him as though he could absorb the enormity of her emotions through osmosis. “Okay, ow!” He exclaimed with a grunt, and she instantly leapt from his embrace, biting her lip to keep from laughing at his buffoonish expression laced with genuine pain.

“Sorry, I got carried away.” She apologized in her best ‘poor baby’ tone. Straightening his blankets carefully, she ran a hand through her mussed hair, putting a damper on the tinge of awkwardness threatening to invade.

“I’m tellin’ ya, it’s the boyish charm.” He mumbled, lacing his fingers through hers. Devon gave his knuckles a quick peck before extricating herself carefully. It was the first time she’d ever seen John Danziger pout.

“Okay, Alonzo,” Her use of the flyboy’s name was not lost on Danziger, who snickered. “I’d better let you get some rest, since you’re intent on putting yourself in peril first thing in the morning.” She stood a bit shakily, touching the crown of his head for a moment before making her way to the exit.

Shaking his head, eyes already shut, Danziger sighed. “Oh, ye of little faith.”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of faith in you, John. Faith is the easy part. I’m just hoping for a miracle.” She disclosed softly. Cracking open one heavy eyelid, Danziger turned his head towards her with a smirk.

“Geez, Adair! That wasn’t enough of a miracle for you?” Blushing a bit at his jibe, Devon found herself uncharacteristically at a complete loss for words. Danziger settled in for sleep, a lazy grin plastered across his wan face. “Women!”

“…He was looking pretty shaken up. There was some blood, but I can’t imagine Danziger would ever do something to hurt himself. Look, all I’m saying guys is…it’s Danziger. Our Danziger. If he’s gonna come out of this he’s gonna need us all pulling for him. I know we’ve been giving him his space, but we’ve gotta do something to let him know we’re still here for him, and nothing’s gonna change that.”

A small group had convened around the campfire at Walman’s request, mostly the remainder of the Ops crew and a few others that had found themselves out of the loop. He’d sought out Bess earlier that afternoon after seeing John so shaken up that morning in the Med Tent, and asked if she’d meet with them that evening to discuss everything that had been going on. Giving them his run down of the earlier events he witness, they all listened morosely, almost in disbelief.

Sure, he could have gotten more accurate information from Devon or Julia, but Bess had a way of understanding what was really going on in a given situation, and besides, from what he’d seen that morning, Devon and Julia had their hands full.

“True and Uly have been keeping him distracted, but you know he’s gotta be wondering what’s gonna happen to him, I mean, in the long run.” Bess spoke up, trying her best to relay whatever she could to the group. She felt as though she was on the sidelines herself, and she couldn’t even imagine what the others must be feeling. “I don’t think he’s had that conversation with Julia yet, I’m pretty sure True would have told me. Unless of course he’s playing it close to the vest, trying to spare True a grim diagnosis.”

“Is there any other kind?” Magus asked quickly, frustrated. “The man was run over by a shanking mining vehicle, and here we all are wondering why he’s out of sorts!”

“It would be doing John a disservice for us to adopt such a negative attitude.” Yale interjected by way of a response. “There is no reason for us to doubt that he will lead a long a full life, regardless of any lasting impairments he may have. We must simply help John to see this for himself.”

“But what about a bone healer vaccine? It worked for Alonzo.” Denner chimed in, hear gaze shifting between Bess and Yale and then back again.

“Julia hasn’t said a thing about that.” Bess confessed, inwardly noting that the doctor hadn’t given anyone much information about Danziger’s condition, including the mechanic himself.

“I’m concerned that John’s condition is too complex for such a simple drug. In essence, a bone healer vaccine is only put to good use for a simple fracture. Danziger’s injuries are so extensive that such a vaccine may cause more harm than good.” Yale informed them sadly, the sorrow in his voice plainly evident.

“But it could be worth a shot, right?” Magus argued, the guilt over her part in John’s accident hadn’t lessened. “You know Danziger, he’d want to give it a try, he’d want to try anything if he could to walk again.” Yale sighed, doing his best to keep a cheery disposition. He had searched his library to find anything he could that might help in speeding John’s recovery, and there had been file after file gruesomely depicting the limbs and torsos of test subjects whose wounds were too severe for the drugs they had been given. He hesitated to go into detail about damage such an experiment could inflict.

“It would be…imprudent.” He responded simply, hoping for the sake of the group and John’s spirits, they could put the topic to rest.

“Yeah, but we’re gonna do it anyway.” Julia grimaced, startling the group as she approached them tiredly and took a seat next to Cameron.

No one spoke for a moment, each other them silently pondering the implications of Julia’s statement, as well as the attitude that came along with it. With the exception of Yale, who was doing his best not to immediately interject with his concern.

“”I’ve spoken with John and True, and he understands that there are major risks involved, but we’re hoping that if were careful and get lucky John will at least get some of his mobility back.” At the doubtful looks from John’s friends and a poorly disguised look of horror on Yale’s face, she continued steadily. “I think we all know that if we don’t try this…if we don’t do something, the prognosis is grim. I’m not suggesting he’ll gain anything close to full mobility or even walk again, but if we don’t intervene, even though our course of action may seem drastic, John may never even sit up in bed again.”

It was as though the very thought, the possibility of John Danziger’s powerful spirit being permanently quelled, hadn’t occurred to a single member of Eden Advance. While she loathed being the bearer of such bad news, at the same time Julia was heartened by their unflinching loyalty. They were terrified at putting Danziger in anymore danger. They thought his decision was far too reckless and imprudent. And every single one of them was behind him one hundred percent.

“I’m in the process of working out a plan of action. We’re hoping that I can have the vaccine ready to go the day after tomorrow.”

“Look, I want to apologize to you all for not doing a better job of keeping you informed about Danziger’s condition.” Julia began, meeting the eyes of each member of Eden Advance as she continued. “I guess I was just so concerned with the immediate dangers I was trying to shut everything else out, and I forgot that medicine is only part of the cure. So I’m sorry if my…standoffishness kept you away from the Med Tent. And I know that, for a lot of you, it’s difficult see a friend in John’s condition…” She trailed off, trying to think of how to word her next bit of advice without embarrassing her patient or making his friends feel any worse. “I think he’s missing you all more than he’s letting on, and he feels like he’s shirking his responsibilities and that it’s his fault that we’re not able to keep moving.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Bess scoffed loud enough for the entire group. Everyone else just looked guilty, as though there was any right way to deal with the situation that had been thrust upon Eden Advance. “Accidents happen all the time and no one has any control over them. Oooh, if he wasn’t in that bed I’d slap some sense into him myself!”

Julia smiled a bit at Bess’ typical reaction. The doctor knew that the Earth-Res must know she was the exception to this little speech, that she’d been there for John through thick and thin, regardless of her husband’s medical involvement. In fact, Julia was beginning to think Bess was the most fearless of the whole bunch. It seemed now that the ball had been tossed into the group’s court, Bess would be perfect to lead by example. With her agreeable demeanor, the other Edenites probably wouldn’t even realize they were being led.

“Well, I for one just want to keep busy.” Baines admitted softly from his seat beside Cameron, who nodded stoically in agreement. “I won’t lie and tell you all that I can really stand the sight of Danz in that bed, but I do know that if he sees me hangin’ around reading’ him bedtime stories he’s gonna catch on real fast that I’m not off doing what I should be. You all know him, hell, most of your better than I do! I think he’d want us to keep going about business as usual. Besides, Adair barely leaves his side for a second.”

“As his physician I’m telling you he could do with a few more friendly faces, even if he hates to admit it. And you’re right, by the way. In fact,” she removed a small piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Bess with a small smile. “Since I’ve ordered him to rest and took away his gear, he’s found a way to circumvent his best interests yet again. yet again, and has been scribbling this message on and off, all afternoon. I think it would be best if it came from a neutral party." She gave them all a smile to ward off the chill in the air around the campfire. It seemed everyone expected the worst.

At Julia's nod Bess opened the folder piece of synth-paper and let out a single bark of laughter before composing herself. She took a moment to study her colleagues, each one leaning forward expectantly from where they sat. Denner sat with her chin in her hands, like a child eagerly awaiting her report card. Magus, on the other hand, still wore the distraught expression she'd been displaying on and off since John's fall, the weary visage of a person desperate for the other shoe to finally drop.

Clearing her throat, Bess began to read efficiently, as though dictating a letter. After all, this was Danziger's message, not her own, and their was more than enough personality in the words themselves. Sometimes John Danziger simply amazed her.

"Where the hell have you all been? If I come out of this tent and find out anyone has been taking joy rides in the DuneRail or shankin’ in the cab of the 'Rover, then my new home the Med Tent will be full of sore Ops Crew asses to keep me company."

Bess paused momentarily, swallowing a chuckle.

"In the interest of the group, and maintaining what little sanity I have left, I'm sending out this to do list. It is not optional."

"I see the chronic machismo hasn't improved." Mazatl interjected with his good-natured deadpan and a rare grin. Several group members laughed at his spot-on assessment.

"First off, Magus: wipe that look off your face and stop blaming yourself for my own stupidity. That isn't optional either." Walman giggled maniacally at the shocked look on his companions face, and Bess felt her own cheeks pinken in sympathy. "I'd rather you concentrate your efforts on the upkeep of the vehicles. Just because they aren't moving doesn't mean there's nothing rusting or slipping out of gear from lack of use."

Taking another deep breath, Bess continued on, doing her best to sound neutral.

"Walman: When you're finished repairing the faulty rotator cuff you should probably double check all the others, make sure nothing else is on the way out. And make sure True cleans the tools and puts them all back in the right places when she's done using 'em, I've told her this myself but something tells me that lately my parental authority isn't what it used to be. Thanks for keeping her busy."

Seeing her husband's name next on the list, Bess did her best not to pause in her reading and scan ahead. Instead, she continued on diligently, reciting John's instructions verbatim.

"Martin: Get off your ass and help Cameron with the computer modifications for the 'Rover. I want a complete diagnostic to run every 48 hours to prevent anymore gradual decay from going undetected, and I know he could use some of your programming expertise."

From the corner of her eye, Bess could see her husband was doing his best to look nonchalant at the rare praise bestowed upon him. She knew it meant the world to him.

"And if you let True play in that horror movie VR game one more time I will personally remove a little more of that B-Positive. She may act like she's thirty-five but she's only eleven and it's giving her nightmares."

Various guffaws and chuckles skirted the perimeter of the fire, and Julia watched her friends as each one absorbed Danziger's words of wisdom. In a way, they all looked as though he was speaking to them from beyond the grave, as though they were unaware of just how lost he'd seemed to them until this meeting. As Bess continued reading from the list that the doctor herself had made a point not to peek at, Julia felt a deep satisfaction at the expressions on the crew's faces.

It wasn't so much a list of chores as it was an affirmation; a reminder that John still trusted them implicitly. Everything on his list had already been done or was currently being worked on, and the simple sweetness of John's message lay in the fact that they were certain he already knew that. It was the gruff mechanics only way of acknowledging their dedication and friendship.

"Julia: Don't look so shocked, of course you're on the list- though you've arguably got the easiest assignment. I need to you spend the night in Flyboy's tent and enjoy a few hours away from my grouchy ass. I'm not playing around, Doc, when you unfailingly attempt to return you'll find that Adair's set up camp in your bunk and Uly is guarding the entrance with his 'Terrian staff.' Please take some time." Bess found herself swallowing thickly at the poorly disguised maelstrom of emotions playing across Julia's face. "Tomorrow is a busy day."

"Lonz: Come see me in the morning and bring that shankin’ leg brace so we can discuss the necessary alterations with Julia. Once we figure it out I'm gonna need Mazatl and anyone who isn't busy to help finish any modifications and fabrications A.S.A.P."

"Bess:" It felt funny to read her own name out with such detachment. "If you could find a way to get True involved in that project without it seeming like it was my idea, I would really appreciate it. She's got this crazy notion that I'm gonna walk again and I think this would help her see everything a little more clearly."

This lightening bolt of pessimism struck so swiftly that Bess hadn't even realized its implications until she felt the heavy air left in its wake. Whether his comment was poor excuse for a joke or he'd meant it as a wake up call, Danziger had succeeded in vaporizing every last trace of merriment around the campfire.

The Earth-Res instantly felt an irrational pang of guilt for having been the one to speak the words, as though the others would direct their frustration and anger at her in the hopes of some perverse transubstantiation. In reality, all eyes around the campfire were focused intently on the ground, and Bess bore sole witness to the Edenites private sorrows.

She studied poor Magus, sitting stiffly as Walman's strong arm snaked across her shoulders comfortingly. Bess knew that she suffered from nightmares most nights, that in the bad ones Devon and the group vote to leave her behind for her negligence. In the worse ones, the group rushed to Danziger's aid to find he had simply disappeared.

Julia bore an expression that made it clear that her mind was racing. She'd been consumed by her concern for John's health for so long now that it seemed she was incapable of focusing on anything else. At the same time, Bess knew the doctor found herself incapable and ill-equipped to deal with her patient's mental health.

Bess studied them all, and wished for a moment that they could all suffer from True's adolescent conviction. Danziger's overprotective love for his daughter had had been the soft punctuation at the end of every bit of instruction she'd given in his honor. It would always be his prime objective.

So he looked to his friends to protect her from harm, to provide her with the tough love he found himself suddenly incapable of doling out, and Bess knew that every member of Eden Advance would do anything for the little girl with the lopsided braids that they'd all, in some small way, come to think of as their own daughter.

Danziger was terrified, she knew. Terrified of seeing disappointment everywhere he looked, whether it be at the group gathered around the fire or at his own reflection. But what he was most scared of was not being able to protect his little girl, of waking up one morning to see the same disappointment in True's eyes. It was clouding his judgment, it was upsetting his friends and it was doing nothing to speed his recovery.


Bess, however, made a promise to Danziger at that moment. She promised she would always look out for True's best interests, even if that meant she had to guard his child from the one thing he hadn't accounted for: himself.

"Oh God, I hope this is worth it." Devon whispered to Bess, squeezing her eyes shut and nearly gasping in huge droughts of air, as though she'd been suffocating in the cloying atmosphere of the Med Tent they had just left. Bess looked equally exhausted as she put a comforting arm around her friend gently, the two of them sinking carefully to the a large chest placed just outside the entrance for this exact reason.

The Med Tent, and the solitary patient confined therein, had become a paradox for the members of Eden Advance over the last twenty-four hours. Once inside, trapped between the layers of sunny yellow vinyl with the Danziger's suffering and the incessant ticking the bone healer's ominous countdown, a person couldn't wait to get outside, to see the sun and try to rid their mind of John's paralyzing agony. Once outside, they all longed to be with him, instantly guilty for taking leave of their promised vigil, remorseful for not spending every second they could in his precious company.

The last night had been a blur, in many ways worse than the initial hours after John's fall because the Edenites were all keenly aware that this time around, John's pain and suffering was voluntary. It was destroying Devon to see him this way again, so soon after their unexpected kiss, so soon after she'd finally allowed herself to dream he wasn't irrevocably lost to her.

John had woken yesterday morning from Julia's final surgery to considerable pain, and his distress had done nothing but increase as they'd waited for his system to rid itself of the barrage of medications he'd been receiving over the past weeks. At first, he'd wanted noise. Despite his discomfort he'd wanted visitors, distractions, he'd wanted to spend all the time he had with his friends.

And they'd come, responsive finally to Julia's gentle prodding and the quiet pleas written between the lines of Danziger's impromptu manifesto. Magus finally found it within her to smile again at John's gentle teasing, a genuine smile that her closest friends had begun to fear was truly extinct. Alonzo and Baines had brought their playing cards, and Danziger and his "card manager" True had taken great pleasure in taking the Ops crew to the cleaners, literally. Having long since lost any personal objects with which to barter--they'd tried at first but each found themselves returning the winnings to their owners at the end of every hand-- they'd taken to wagering chores. It seemed that neither Danziger would be doing any laundry until the bicentennial of New Pacifica colony. True had confessed to Devon later with a proud smile that she was fairly certain no one had been letting her Dad win.

Yale had decided to relocate 'school' to far end of the med-tent, and Uly found it irresistible that Mr. Danziger knew so many of the answers, and was not shy about helping him cheat now and again. Just when the children would think he was asleep, he would pepper their quizzes with sound effects, taking the sting out of wrong answers with his "whaaa whaaa whaaa's" and adding to the competitive spirit between the two students with a victory siren that sounded just like Uly's favorite game show back on the stations.

At first Julia had experienced a palpable relief, allowed herself to indulge in a rare sense of optimism that maybe everything would work out for the best. Team morale seemed to be at an all time high, Danziger seemed to be managing his pain better than she had thought possible, and she'd been able to remove a considerable amount of wreckage during her surgery, as the muscles themselves had begun to reject most of the embedded shards of bone as they attempted to heal themselves. She'd spent the afternoon basking in the unobtrusive din of the Med Tent, synthesizing the vaccine from the detailed notes she'd taken in her attempts to help Alonzo as she listened to her friends reconnect. It seemed the group as she'd come to know it was gone; Eden Advance was back.

Things had taken a downturn just as the sun was setting. After dinner, which was served in the Mess Tent but eaten for the most part in the Med Tent, Alonzo and the guys had gone off to begin modifications for his leg brace, hoping to salvage some of the scrap metal they'd been hauling to create a another identical splint as well.

Bess, Denner and Magus were gathered around the small fire they'd built just outside the Med Tent, plotting and planning and sewing away in an attempt to give Danziger something to wear. With his sudden increase of visitors he'd found himself quite embarrassed by his appearance, and they'd secretly decided that with a few snips and buttons, they would be able to devise something to cover up his 'bare ass' which he jokingly insisted all the women were constantly trying to get a peek at.

Inside the tent, Uly was practicing his reading with a holo-book True had secretly told him was one of her Dad's favorites. It was a very old story, and Yale had to explain to them what many of the words meant, but it was full of adventure and sword fighting and creatures that he and True had never even heard of. Even his mom was enjoying it, despite the fact that, at the beginning, Yale had to constantly shush her for interrupting the story with arguments. When she stopped him to ask how a person could possibly be 'one hundred and eleventy' years old, John told her to 'zip her lip' or get out, and from then on she was pretty quiet.

Danziger himself had grown remarkably quiet shortly after True had done her best to get him to eat dinner. He'd taken a brief nap, but the pain was such that he was never able to nod off for very long. Julia had lost her jovial edge when her equipment had begun registering signs of a returning fever and hypertension, and for the last few hours she'd been watching him like a hawk. This wasn't lost on him, or Devon, who'd begun leaving the Med Tent less and less as the evening wore on. And it certainly wasn't lost on his little doctor, True, who'd learned to interpret Julia's expressions just as well as she'd learned to read the jumbled series of numbers that constantly played our across his monitors. He'd long since given up on keeping his eyes open, preferring this small capacity to hide the worst of it from them, saving himself the torture of their concern reflecting back at him.

With the soothing drone of Uly's stilted reading filling the tent, he'd nudged True gently and tiredly requested another shave, more to calm her jittery nerves than anything else. She needed something to do, and he could sense that it would only be a matter of time before he was in too much pain to indulge her in such trivial things. As he listened to her readying his ablutions, he tried to quell the fatalistic feelings that had begun creeping in with the pain. All afternoon, despite his best efforts to remain positive and distracted, niggling thoughts had swept in without warning, beestings pricking his subconscious.

Last game.

Last meal.

Last shave.

He'd resigned himself to his fate and he stood by his decision with every once of strength he had left, but that didn't make it any less terrifying.

The peace had been shattered in a split second. In one instant, Danziger had been gritting and bearing it, and in the next he simply couldn't any more.

Uly had been reading on, clearly excited about a pony named Bill, with Devon and Julia only half listening as they watched True tenderly spreading the thin lather across her fathers cheeks. In the recent hours Danziger had begun to look odd, even to Devon's inexperienced eyes. It was though there was a current of energy flowing steadily through him, so much so that he was held in place, determined not to move even has his fingers quivered uncontrollably against the sheets and the tendons in his neck stood in high relief.


"Dad, maybe I should do this later." True suddenly decided, resting a hand carefully on his solar plexus. He shook his head tautly, inexplicably desperate for some strain of normalcy.

"S'ok, True-Girl. Go ahead. I'll keep still." He whispered. Her eyes filled with tears, True nodded but made no move to begin. Instead she took his hand, squeezing it in her own as she wiped away the suds as gently as she'd applied them, praying her father would understand why she'd chosen to disobey. When his face was clean again, she leaned in to kiss him softly, wrapping her left hand around his index finger.

"Later, Daddy." She whispered, and a small moan caught in John's throat. There was a startling, single beep from one of the various pieces of equipment, and suddenly his eyes opened to gaze upon her with all the despondency of a wounded animal, begging for mercy.

"Get outta here, True-Girl." He begged suddenly, Julia instantly at his side, the Hypogun primed and ready, though she'd sworn to him that she wouldn't administer any pain-block without his explicit permission. It was part of the deal they'd struck. The other part of the deal, the only part that mattered right now, was that True would be allowed to stay with him unconditionally until the time came to administer the vaccine.

"It's okay, Daddy, I'm gonna stay with you." True responded confidently into the dead silence of the Med Tent. From the corner of her eye, Julia noted that Yale had already swiftly whisked Uly away from the scene. Without her having noticed, Devon had come to stand beside her.

"True, honey…It's getting bad." He rasped, his hand unconsciously clenching painfully around his daughter's. True didn't so much as flinch, determined to bear whatever brunt of her father's pain as she was able to. "Please, honey…please just…" He rasped, startled when Julia deftly applied enough pressure to tendons in his wrist to force True's release.

"God…m'sorry, baby." A shudder ripped through him, nearly quaking the cot, and when it subsided he frantically reached for Devon.

"Please, get'er outta here, please, Devon, please!" He pleaded in a rush, genuine panic setting in.

"John, just try to relax, alright? I know it's bad, but try to stay calm. True's gonna stay right here with us, you're not scaring her. It's okay." She appeased him gently, giving the girl a small hug from behind, resting her chin on True's head in support.

"I'm not scared, Daddy, it's okay." His daughter promised, rubbing his arm. He shuddered again, his heavy head falling back against his pillow roughly.

"Julia…don't you dare." He panted, eyeing her hand resting against the butt of Hypogun.

"Wouldn't dream of it, John." She assured him from the end of the bed, where the same angry monitor let out two more angry trills. Reaching up to cup his cheek, True leaned in close to meet his unfocused gaze.

"Let it out, Dad. Sometimes it feels better to cry." She divulged with her calm, child-like clarity.

But Danziger didn't cry. He screamed. And so their final vigil began.

Now, outside the tent, Devon looked at Bess' weary expression and wondered what she herself must look like. John's initial panic hadn't lasted for more than a few minutes, he was far too fatigued to carry on for long, and by the time the strange insects of G889 had begun their nocturne he'd fallen eerily silent again, sometimes punctuating the stillness with low, primal moaning on each shallow exhaled breath.

True had done her best to comfort him, and it seemed that she was the only one among the women of Eden Advance who remained totally calm, seemingly unaffected by his agony. Her hard-won place at his bedside was a duty she took very seriously, and she knew that the sight of her own distress would only upset him further.

At times, he would startle as though he'd forgotten she was there completely, and whenever he found himself capable of speech he would routinely, gently ask her to leave. He would try to dream up things she should be doing, ridiculous distractions that she took with a grain of salt.

Instead she wiped his newly feverish face with a cool cloth, talking softly to him about the house he would build for them when they reached New Pacifica, about the day he taught Uly how to run, about how they'd snuck into the zoo on Centurion Station during a cold sleep job to see the last living Elephant.

To the girl's credit, Devon barely even registered a flinch when, at around 14:00 hours he'd begun asking True to run and find her mother.

His confusion was deeply unsettling, but Julia had repeatedly assured she and a tearful Bess that it couldn't be helped, and that it was just the fever and the pain getting the better of him. Devon could see her frown deepening with every muted alarm from his monitors, and every gentle sweep of the DiaGlove, but to the doctor's credit, she never once vocalized any concerns. A few times, under her breath as she worked on the vaccine or peeked under the blankets to tend her post surgical wrappings, the heard the doctor murmur "It's what John wants." And that became a mantra for them all as they watched him hold on for dear life. It's what John wants.

The crackle of vinyl startled Devon and Bess from their respective reveries, and when they looked up, Julia was beside them, squinting in the sunlight. Raising her face to the sky, breathing in the beauty of another perfect day, Devon saw her shoulders visibly relax a bit. Then she turned to study them in the same way they were studying her, and Devon could see it was nothing but a trick of the light.

Julia's rail thin frame was teeming with exhaustion and stress. For all the horrors the doctor had experienced with Danziger, the reality of his injuries she'd experienced in a way neither Bess nor Devon could, Devon knew she would trade places with her in a heartbeat, that she'd longed through the past weeks to be the one with the power, the one who would inevitably save John from his agony, or the one to release him into peace with the knowledge that she'd done everything she could. She would even rather it be her in the bed, in Danziger's place, than to be banished to the sidelines, a incompetent spectator.


"I think we're ready to begin." Julia said quietly, and Bess reacted to this, the very news they had been waiting for, with a startled intake of breath. How could it be that this terrifying inaction, the sight of John in such agony, was still somewhat preferable what they were about to do to him? "Is everyone up yet?"

Devon glanced towards camp, knowing that in every silent tent their friends were undoubtedly wide awake, sitting in the same stunned shock.

"Do you honestly think anyone slept at all last night?" She asked ruefully.

"Well, for Danziger's sake, I hope they managed to get some rest." Julia responded, rubbing a hand across her eyes. This is going to have to be quick and seamless."

"No room for error." Bess whispered, the other group mantra, as she stood wearily.

"I'll go find everyone, I'm sure they're ready." Julia nodded thankfully, squeezing the Earth-Res' hand.

"I'm going to need you two in there first to get him covered up some, then Alonzo and his team to help get the braces on his legs. He told me how grateful he was, that you and the girls made him something to wear." The soft affirmation worked wonders for Bess' cloudy expression.

"Well, we can't have everyone in camp sneaking a peek, now can we?" She asked, her tone sarcastic and at the same time full of the considerate sensibility that they all admired.

She was off in a flash, leaving Devon and Julia to gaze back at the Med Tent door as though it was the very gateway to hell.

"It'll be fine." Devon barked out, a little too loudly, to no one in particular. Julia nodded wordlessly as she held open the flap for her friend.

Inside, they were greeted with the sound of raspy laughter, coming from Danziger himself. True was at his side, smiling slightly and patting his arm, though she was undoubtedly in a much less jovial mood.

"Shhhh, Dad, you need to relax, it's time to be quiet." She hushed him ineffectually, looking to Devon and Julia for back-up.

"What's so funny, Danziger?" Julia asked curiously, knowing the best way to cope with his delirium was to indulge him. It made her fairly queasy to do so, but she knew it was much better for all parties involved, giving Danziger a sense that he wasn't going completely crazy and the Edenites a chance to lighten up a bit, enjoy John's rare bursts of humor. He squinted his eyes open slightly and immediately reached for Devon's hand.

He'd been doing that more and more lately, with less and less discretion.

"Adair…Devon…c'mere." He giggled, and she did so, gently placing a hand on the crown of True's head tenderly as she took a seat beside her.

"What is it, Danziger? You're getting yourself all riled up." She informed him without much hope he'd listen. The last several hours had taken there toll, and the circles beneath his eyes were deep bruises, his lean face framed by dull, tangled curls. It killed her to see him this way, knowing even has he stared back at her through dilated pupils he could just as likely be seeing Elle, or Alex Wentworth, or a Grendler. There had been a stretch of time when he had been convinced Bess was her, and even Devon's own presence in the tent couldn't convince him otherwise. It seemed the only person he could never forget, never mistake, was True. In that respect, Devon was almost grateful it was time to administer the vaccine. She didn't want to be on the same planet as him the day John thought he'd lost his True-Girl.

"So funny…'m so stupid." He continued hazily.

"I don't think I follow, John." She informed him carefully, glancing at Julia as the doctor bustled around her workstation, shaking her head with a weary smile.

"Got hit…byda…" Another chuckle, another wince. "…shankin 'Rover…s'stupid!" He finished proudly, letting out a huge sigh, and True caught Devon's eye as if to say, "You see what I've been dealing with?"

"Not one of your prouder moments, huh, Danziger?" She teased him gently. "No one thinks you're stupid, John, it was just an accident."

He groaned, though Devon was unsure if it was the pain of he simply didn't like her response.

"Everyone's accident." He informed her seriously, and she took a few moments to fill in what she believed were the blanks.

"Everyone's an accident?"

"Elle's accident…Eben's accident...shankin' Ro'noke." He elaborated deliriously, and at Devon's troubled expression True spoke up calmly.

"Dad, sometimes things happen and there's no one to blame. It doesn't mean you have to blame yourself." Danziger looked at his daughter for a few moments, as though he was waiting for his brain to catch up with him.

"You're no accident..." He whispered, his eyes falling shut as he nodded off again.


"Are we gonna do this thing or not, Julia?" True asked suddenly, her frustration finally getting the better of her.

As if on cue, Bess chose that moment to enter, in her hands the bundle of clothing they'd tailored for Danziger.

"Everything ready?" She asked, a tinge of excitement in her voice.

"We're ready." Julia replied.

“Julia, I don’t think I can do this.” Alonzo croaked, looking a bit green around the gills. He wasn’t the only one disturbed by the sight of John’s legs, now that the blankets had all been stripped from the bed, and the bandages carefully snipped away to avoid any hindrance should the doctor need to suddenly intervene during the bone fusion process.

Exposed to the group for the first time, Danziger’s injuries seemed beyond comprehension, the areas around the sutures shiny and tight, yet it seemed the deep purple bruises would simply slide off onto the ground, with no muscle tone or sturdy bone to support the weight of the ragged skin. His left leg, which Julia was carefully wrapping in a thin layer of gauze to protect it from the coarse fabric lining of the newly-modified brace, didn’t even resemble a human limb, so shattered was the area where his knee cap should be visible. It was not lost on anyone present that mid-thigh, there was a slight outward bend to the ravaged flesh, where Julia had been forced to remove a large section of shattered femur.

“Q-quit starin’.” Danziger whispered, snapping out of his fitful dose to find himself suddenly cold, and the center of much attention. Julia glanced at his face as she finished securing the gauze, desperate for any hint of impertinence, hoping that another flippant remark was on the way. Instead, she met fierce blue eyes, cold as steel and just as unforgiving.

There was something terribly sad about seeing him lying there, wrapped so carefully by herself and Bess, after Devon and True had judiciously vanished, in the make-shift gown that had been made from several donated items. While he’d slept, they’d threaded his arms gently though the sleeves of a very notorious black-and-white printed shirt, the collar cut off so it could be comfortably worn backwards.

Bess had quietly rambled a bit while they’d worked, explaining to Julia and an unconscious Danziger that it was important to wear something comfortable and familiar when you weren’t feeling your best, and while Magus had playfully suggested they take this opportunity to shred the thing for bandages, Bess had insisted that it remain for the most part, whole. They’d extended the fabric downward with strips of Cameron’s faded plaid. It hadn’t occurred to a single member of Eden Advance that John’s new attire was even remotely silly. To Danziger’s friends, the labor of love bore all the significance of the most sacred of shrouds.

“There’s an awful lot of you in’ere right now…sure we got room for the zebra?” Danziger asked seriously, dazedly scrutinizing the sleeve that definitely hadn’t been there when he’d last been awake.

“You look great, pal.” Alonzo assured him, guilty that his breech of courage might have been overheard.

“Bullshit.” He groaned, doing his best to throw Bess a teasing smile. “But the shirt’s…never looked better.”

“We’re about ready to get these braces on and give it a go.” Julia informed him with a wan smile. “You ready?”

Closing his eyes to marshal his strength, John gave them an almost imperceptible nod.

“Can’t be any worse than how I feel now…” He let slip, trying for a sense levity he simply could no longer feign. Hopelessly trying to quell the certain knowledge that his previous statement would prove horribly false, Danziger studied each of his friends intently.

The Martin’s were directly to his right, Bess’ hands worrying the textured handle of a Hypogun unconsciously. Danziger knew it was loaded to the gills with pain medication, should he back out or call ‘Uncle.’ Her husband had a supportive arm wrapped tightly around her, the other hung sorely at his side, the sleeve still pushed up from his recent donation of precautionary blood and platelets. Magus was perched atop Julia’s worktable, methodically running a sterilization wand over a truly daunting pile of bandages, Denner doing the same with the few instruments Julia had been able to grab in her desperate raid of the medical supply closet on board the Roanoke.

At the foot of the bed, standing in a half-circle behind the doctor as though they were her team of crack-pot footmen, Mazatl and Cameron stood at the ready to offer their strength, whether it be to lift John up of hold him down. Alonzo and Walman were also there, each holding a medieval looking brace in their white knuckled hands. Alonzo had relinquished the keeping of the larger one he himself had been intimately acquainted with to Walman, and the pilot himself held the smaller version they’d devised, to fit the lower portion of John’s right leg while still allowing movement of his knee, should the chances look good he might be able to recover some dexterity.

Devon he found after a bit of searching, sitting in her own lonely corner, looking for all world like a widowed war bride from a World War III vid chip. He wondered how it was that he hadn’t always felt the love for her that he did now. He’d wasted so much shankin’ time, clutching his pride like a prize, hating her for making him wish he could toss it to the wind, consequences be damned. Now he had nothing left in the world but these people, his friends and his daughter and the love he knew Devon had for him. He was the luckiest man alive; impending death notwithstanding.

“Where’s True-Girl?” He asked her softly, a direct question despite the distance between them and the softness of his voice. Devon rose slowly, approaching him with a thankful heart that he was lucid for these last few quiet moments, and that John’s suffering would be over-- one way or another--soon.

“She and Uly are with Yale. It was a small feat, getting her to leave, but you reminded her that you had honored your part of the deal, and now it was her turn to do the same for you.”

His eyes were bottomless pools of loss, deeply distressed at the absence of his daughter even as he wanted nothing more than to spare her this very sight. She took his hand and kissed it gently in an attempt to ward off his lost expression, spectators be damned. They had no more time for secrets.

“I don‘t…when did she leave? I was…awake?” He whispered, the bone-deep terror of his situation finally coming to the forefront.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Devon soothed, stroking his hair as though they were the only two people left on G889. “You told her that you love her very much. You told her to be a good girl, and that you’ll see her soon.” She wiped a rogue tear from his temple with her thumb.

“I…I can’t remember that…” He confessed weakly.

“But she will, John. She will.” Devon promised with a strength of conviction she only experienced in matters regarding her own son.

“Tell her again.” He implored somberly. “Tell her every day, Devon. Promise me.”

“I will, John.”

“Devon…” Julia interrupted delicately, sending the real world crashing in around the couple. “We have to get going, he’s not stable.” She warned quietly, eyes averted. “I think we should get moving, so we can get John some relief as soon as possible.”

John nodded, his throat tight with tears, and Devon gave him a reassuring smile.

“Right. Let’s get those contraptions on.” She announced loudly, as though it was her right to issue orders in Julia’s jurisdiction.

“No time like the present! Kinda literally…” Morgan chimed in, haphazardly trying to lighten to mood in the tent, and to the quiet satisfaction of the group, Magus was the first to chuckle.

Julia moved to the foot of the bed, where Mazatl and Cameron were already taking their places to kneel at either side of the cot.

“The guys are going to support your legs while we lower the end of the cot, so we don’t jostle you anymore than we have to, okay?” Julia spoke calmly, in her element once again. “As soon as it’s down, Walman and I are going to get the brace on your left leg first. That should be the worst, but we’re going to move really quickly. Then Alonzo and I will get your right calf and we’ll bring the bed back up and be ready to go, just like that.”

“Just like that, huh?” Danziger repeated sarcastically, worrying his bottom lip. “Sounds like fun.”

“Hey, it was your idea, right?” The doctor teased, giving her patient a wide grin. It did the trick, and John seemed a bit more at ease than he had been a few moments before. She took a deep breath and touched both of her assistants on the shoulder, and they carefully began easing their gloved hands under John’s damaged legs.

He let out a brief hiss, his eyes opening wide at the shock of feeling multiple hands on the sensitive flesh.

“Well, when you get your own data log in the…New Pacifica Journal of Medicine…I want it noted that--whoa!” He gripped the cushion of the cot tighter. “That you were…chicken shit…about this whole thing.”

“No problem, John--easy, guys!” Julia cautioned as Magus and Denner slowly began lowering the legs of the cot. “I’ll be sure to put it right next to a big picture of you in your pretty gown.”

A low sound of pain found it‘s way out of Danziger, and Devon reached over to tuck a stray curl of hair behind his ear.

“Sorry, man.” Cameron whispered with tenderness in his tone as Mazatl looked to Julia expectantly, as though she would suddenly call the whole thing off. John swallowed another groan.

“Here comes the brace. We’re gonna try not to lift your leg if we can help it, okay?” Julia gave the mechanic a play-by-play, not looking away from the task at hand. Coming from underneath as best they could, she and Walman eased the splint into place, slowly adding support as Cameron eased his hands out of position.

“Oh my…Julia, hurry up!” John grunted, and the doctor slid the fiberglass molding they’d created with a resonance scan of Danziger’s previous charts carefully up his thigh, so the brace was cradling his entire leg from just below his buttock and down around his ankle. Bess swooped in the second Cameron vacated his post, aiding Julia in buckling down the synth-fleece lining they’d made from Devon’s winter coat. Quickly and efficiently, the lowered the hinged metal cage and secured the locks.

“Is it pinching anywhere that you can feel, Danziger?” She asked, and it was a few moments before he could compose himself enough to reply.

“No, i-it’s okay…it’s okay.” He breathed through pursed lips, trying for a few deep breaths.

“That’s good, John. Just try to relax…in and out…the left leg’s done.” Devon cooed, her eyes darting back and forth from his face and the bustling activity to her right. Squeezing his eyes shut, Danziger did his best to ignore her coddling.

Julia and Alonzo were already making progress on his lower right leg, repeating the same efficient patterns they’d practiced long into the night. The shorter replica stopped just above the ankle and at the base of the knee, as the doctor was hopeful that if the bones of the calf began to heal correctly they would be able to restore motion to John’s foot and knee.

From where she stood, dutifully supporting John’s right heel in her cupped hands as Julia tightened the bolts, Bess’ feather-soft voice called out to a distressed Danziger.

“You know, John, this big ol’ foot really is in just about perfect condition. I’ll bet you’ll be putting it through its paces in no time.”

“Ya think…that one’s good…should seen leftie in his prime…” John teased back as best as he could, so concentrated he missed the faint tearing sound as the fingernails of his clenched hand ripped clean though the sheeting. Devon glanced at her friends in action, noticing that not a single set of eyes traveled to Danziger’s left side.

“Oooh! Easy!” He shouted hoarsely, his ragged breath catching as he struggled to lift his head. Devon gently held him in place with a cool palm on his cheek.

“Shhhh, deep breaths Danziger. Try not to get worked up.” She comforted, her tone even and sweet.

“Christ, Adair! I’m not…in labor! Knock it off!” He snapped, feeling far to much like a helpless child to allow himself to be treated like one.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” She instantly amended, her voice refreshingly void of any sarcasm. John nodded; an acknowledgement and return apology all at once.

“And…done!” Julia assured him a few moments later as Mazatl and Cameron carefully erected the lower portion of the bed. She and Alonzo carefully eased his leg to the cushions as Walman and Magus positioned the larger brace. “Okay, take a minute…take a breath, John.”

With a gasp, the breath Danziger hadn’t even realized he’d been holding burst forth, and Devon’s hands were on him again, the cool cloth against his brow.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bess asked, slightly elated as her husband and Denner let loose a short burst of applause. Bess nudged her husband gently and he nodded, taking one more glimpse at the panting mechanic before ducking quickly out of the tent to report back to the others outside that the first stage of the procedure had gone off without a hitch.

“Sure. Let’s do this every day.” Mazatl agreed dryly, and Danziger chuckled weakly in appreciation.

“…wassa…easy part…” He mumbled, his entire body teeming with exhaustion. Maybe he would just take a nap, let all his overly-confident pals deal with the vaccine themselves.

“Everything feels okay, Danziger? No sore spots?” Julia asked, unconsciously taking his temperature with the DiaGlove as she spoke. He shook his head faintly, looking amused and exasperated and a bit loopy.

“No comment…s’too easy.”

“Do you want to rest a bit before we continue?” The doctor inquired as she studied his stat readouts, her expression making it obvious that this would be against her better judgment, but she would grant a brief reprieve if he asked for one.

“Naah, let’s just…go…” He sighed, taking a small sip of water from the mug Devon offered silently.

“Okay. You heard the man.” Julia responded, already on her way to her workbench to retrieve the old-fashioned syringe already loaded with a small concentration of the potent vaccine. Instantly the group broke formation, everyone busily hurrying on to their next position or task. It occurred to Danziger, as he watched from beneath droopy eyelids, that he’d never seen them work more beautifully together. He hoped that, whether he was with them or not, they would face every future obstacle with the same tireless fortitude and care they’d shown him.

“Guys…“ He spoke up almost timidly as Julia returned to his side. “I just want to thank you all. For helpin’ with everythin‘…but also…for stayin’ together. And for always trustin’ me. And each other.” Danziger paused briefly, to clear his throat. He did his best to meet everyone’s eye, to send up a small prayer of thanks for the others not present and for his baby girl. “Never had a better crew…and I never knew what it meant to be…a true friend, till you guys showed me. The New Pacifica colony isn’t gonna know what hit it.”

As he finished, the slightly embarrassed blush of his cheeks soothed by Devon’s gentle ministrations, he closed his eyes to shy away from the center of attention, to give his friends the privacy to compose themselves.

Someone squeezed his arm, and he opened his eyes slowly to see Julia kneeling beside Devon. With a final reassuring smile she pulled the gown up just far enough to reveal his hip, where she began disinfecting a site for injection.

“Hey, Boss? Before we continue mercilessly torturin’ you, ya got any more words of wisdom?” Despite his flippant tone, Walman’s voice was rife with affection.

“Yeah…” Danziger answered, Julia and her needle poised to strike. “Don’t shank up.”

Yale didn’t think he was helping matters at all.

He and the children were keeping their own distant vigil in the area they’d been using as a fire pit. It was far enough away to allow him the blessing of a distraction, yet close enough that True could be at her father’s side in a moment’s notice. Close enough that he, too, could be called upon should his services be needed. Devon had asked him earlier, when he’d come to collect True, if he would be ready with a blessing should the procedure turn bleak. He hadn’t the heart to remind her that they had no idea what sort of religious beliefs John practiced, if any at all. And yet, all he could see was the pain and the fear in her eyes, and he’d instantly agreed wholeheartedly. Besides, if it would help settle the hearts and minds of his terrified colleagues and ease the suffering of his dying friend, he’d gladly recite every prayer he could find in his databanks threefold. Of course, he doubted very much that it would help at all.

Still. Just in case.

That’s what Devon had said. In fact, if he lived to be one hundred and twenty, those where the three words Yale hoped to never hear again. It seemed a trifle hypocritical to force such good-will on the ailing mechanic, to manufacture tales of a sunny future and demand good cheer in return, only to harbor such doubts in the greedy pits of their stomachs.

He himself was guilty of such a sin, guilty and sick at the thought that he hadn’t tried harder to stop John from the madness he was undertaking just a few feet away. How could he condemn his friends for their insistence that John would be cured even as he berated himself for harboring such morbid, malevolent thoughts?

True hadn’t been present for the group meeting they’d held while Danziger had been fitfully dozing the night before. Even Devon and Julia had quietly crept from the Med Tent just long enough to assign tasks and go over just what would have to be accomplished to guard against further harm to Danziger’s injuries and to ensure a safe procedure.

She’d elected to remain at her father’s side, true to her word that she’d stay until she was forced to go. Devon had sent Uly in as well, to visit with John should he wake, but mostly to try and lift the little girl’s spirits a bit. The very moment True had grudgingly left her father earlier that morning, she’d informed Yale matter-of-factly that she wanted to know all the details that had been discussed in her absence. Her expression made it clear that she would know if he was softening the blow, so to speak, and that she would have none of it.

So now he sat with the two children, his cybernetic arm flashing luminous three-dimensional pictures and charts as he prudently scanned the many texts he’d found for the most innocuous and pertinent information. Uly sat watching with a patient expression that made him look years older than any little boy ought to. In fact, the tutor had felt a momentary pang of compunction when he’d begun his ‘lesson,’ unsure if Devon would rather spare her son the gruesome details.

As it was, he was secretly glad that True had such a strong companion, someone who had been through so much in his young life that he could genuinely be a confidant to her, in a time when it seemed sometimes frightening to speak to the adults about her father’s condition. Watching the two children at play, silently observing each somber lull in the playful bickering, Yale was often greatly pleased to see Uly’s small hand resting carefully on the young girl’s arm. It seemed that in all the clamoring and worrying, he was the only member of Eden advance to realize what a magnificent piece of good fortune it was that both children had found each other, here in such a far away place.

True seemed greatly curious and interested in everything the tutor was able to explain about her father‘s condition, or had until the first startled yelp had drifted from the Med Tent, signaling that the group had begun readying Danziger for the procedure. Now, as much as he attempted to draw her focus away from such things, her eyes were permanently fixed on the ominous yellow dome. Uly, however, refused to even glance in the direction of the disturbance.

It was clear to Yale now, seeing the full effects of Danziger’s suffering on the young boy, that in the communal haste to see to the comfort of Danziger and his uncharacteristically fragile daughter, the effect it was having on Ulysses had been grossly overlooked. The cyborg had done his best to answer the boy’s endless questions and assure him that he would always lend a friendly ear, but Devon’s continued distance from her son had begun to take a toll.

The depths of Devon’s feelings towards John had been no great secret for some time now, and yet the fervor and depth of emotion she’d been displaying since his accident had been shocking to say the least. Nearly every member of Eden Advance had been in her position, they’d all lived difficult, trying lives long before they’d crash landed twenty-two light years away from everyone and everything the called home. They’d loved deeply and lost a great deal, and each had looked in on Devon silently sitting with John these past days with a familiar pang of despair. The children, however, were just beginning to connect the dots, each of them learning in their own private ways that, while their parents would always love them unconditionally and completely, a secret part of their hearts had been given away without youthful consent.

Strangely, True seemed to be taking the recent infringement of personal time with her father remarkably well. In fact, the girl had come to trust Devon enough to confide in her and look to her for comfort, when Yale had been sure she would be met with a much colder response. But these were trying times, and he was pleased to see that they had brought out the best in everyone. The tutor was certain that when things settled down a bit, and he was able to spend more time with his mother, and enjoy John’s full attention and fatherly influence, Uly would see things more clearly.

“Oooh, easy!”

Both children jumped as Danziger’s afflicted bark rose over the indistinguishable din floating on the mild morning breeze. True finally turned back to face Yale with tears pooling in her soft brown eyes, her face red with the effort she’d been exerting not to cry.

“I wish they weren’t hurting him so much.” She said simply, tiredly. There was nothing else to say on this beautiful sunny day, waiting outside for her father to live or die.

On the other side of the equation, feeling the oppressive weight of protecting this child from such an unbelievable burden, Yale was similarly lost for words. In his heart he wanted to comfort her and assure her that her father would be fine, that it would all be over soon and he could begin his recovery with her at his side. In his mind, however, he couldn’t bear to be the bearer or one more empty placation, when they were both profoundly aware of all that was at stake.

“There is nothing I would like more, True. But now we must be patient and keep him in our thoughts.” He stifled the urge to add ‘and prayers’ to his response, the words sounded hollow even to his own ears. True nodded, accepting the grim truth.

“You’re Dad’s the strongest man I’ve ever met, True. You’ll see, he’s gonna be okay.” Uly had been reticent to say much of anything all morning, but seeing his friends growing distress he finally reached out to her, rubbing a hand across her shoulder like he’d seen Mr. Danziger do hundreds of times. “Sometimes when your in a lot of pain, it makes you stronger. It makes you want to fight to get well.”

True studied him carefully, accessing the merit of his words, and did her best to give him a smile, wiping her eyes roughly with the back of her hand.

“You’re pretty smart, for such a stupid kid.” She informed him, without a hint of malice in her tone. Uly laughed a bit at that, appreciative of the faintest trace of normalcy. Yale watched as the boy wracked his brain for a retort, but sensed he knew better to poke fun in return.

“Least I don’t smell.” He finally muttered, his fallback response for any given situation where True’s one-upmanship had triumphed. True rolled her eyes and sniffed a bit, peeking at the Med Tent again from the corner of her eye.

Yale smiled a bit himself, clapping his hands on his knees softly. Every day her grew increasingly proud of what fine young man Ulysses was growing into. He had no doubt that John’s guidance and even True herself and played a role in this.

“Yeah, you do.” She added as an afterthought, though there wasn’t much fight behind it.

“Children, Children!” Yale decided to play along, not wanting to be the only one left out of the routine they had all perfected over the long months. “You both smell equally foul, now why don’t we have a lesson to pass the time--”

The loud rustle of the Med Tent flap cause all three reluctant sentries to jump this time, and all eyes searched to find Morgan Martin ducking out, squinting a bit at the sunlight.

“Sure, let’s do this every day…” They heard Mazatl quip as Morgan carefully shut the folds behind him, and the sound of relieved laughter followed.

Running the short distance towards them with his thumbs high in the air as though they might consider shooting the messenger, the bureaucrat was beaming from ear to ear.

“Everything’s going really well so far, your--” He stumbled over a small rock, nearly going down before catching himself. Yale heard Uly stifle a snicker but decided to let it pass. “Your Dad’s doing great, True.” He knelt carefully by the little girl and clapped her on the back. “The braces are on and he‘s feeling much better. One down one to go!” His animated style cleared the somber air, and the little girl let out a small sigh. “Boy, he’s one stubborn son of a bitch, huh?” He asked her seriously, having taken a quick course in “Dealing with True 101” over a quick breakfast with Julia.

Yale rolled his eyes, but couldn’t quite hold on to any exasperation at the sound of True’s chuckles. Between the elder Danziger and all his well-meaning compatriots, when things got back to normal the whole camp would be washing their mouths out with dry-soap if he had anything to say about it.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you guys since we crashed on this damn planet.” She reminded him matter-of-factly. “If my Dad says he’s gonna do something, he’s gonna do it. I don’t know why all of you are so worried.” Hands on her hips, True could lie like a champion. If Yale hadn’t been there to see her frightened tears only moments ago, even he would have believed this false show of bravado.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, I mean, about the stubborn part. I was with you on that one from day one.” He let out a small laugh. “Remember that time I dropped my gear off the, um, cliff, and he made me pack up camp by myself?” True snickered, that had been a great morning. “Well, there I was, bright and early, taking down the Mess Tent because I said to myself ‘Self? That Danziger means business, and what he says goes--’”

“Yeah, and you were whinin’ about it the whole time.” She reminded him, making Yale’s hardened heart ache to see John storming around camp again, issuing decrees.

“Well, I wouldn’t call it whining, I may have protested a bit--”

“You spent the whole day showing everyone that blister on your hand.” Uly reminded him with great relish, sensing that--just this once--Mr. Martin might want them to make fun of him a bit, if it would cheer True up. “I thought John was gonna clobber you by lunch time!”

True did laugh then, and Morgan nodded in ridiculous agreement.

“Exactly! Case in point, Uly. Your Dad is a force to be reckoned with, True. Usually by me. I mean, I do the reckoning, he does the force. Which is fine, but hey, check it out!” He extended his arm proudly, showing off the bandage that covered the area where Julia had drawn blood numerous times.

“Another blister, Morgan?” Yale teased, setting Uly and True off again. He winked at Morgan over their heads.

“I figure, as long as I have this bandage it will remind your Dad that this time I actually helped save his tail, and maybe I won’t get on his nerves so much. I mean, I’ll also try not to get on his nerves so much. Which is something I haven’t been so successful with before, but this time I have a good feeling. Course, I think I’ll keep the bandage for a little while. To be safe.”

True extended her hand to him, and when he reached up to shake it she shook her head at him like an exasperated parent. “Good luck, Morgan.” She sarcastically added.

Uly reached out to shake on it, too, not wanting to be left out, making Yale think for the first time that maybe Morgan and the children were right. His grim insistence on keeping a realistic view of John’s situation wasn’t going to change the eventual outcome. Perhaps it would be best to take a valuable lesson from Morgan’s kind show of self-abasement and subscribe to the theory that John’s recovery wasn’t a matter or medicine, but a matter of faith.

As Morgan righted himself and brushed off the knees of his ragged pants, a sudden scream of pain echoed from the Med Tent, so loud the breath caught in Yale’s throat. Morgan, remarkably calm for a man of his excitability, quickly gave True’s hand a squeeze.

“Guess they’re starting without me.” He mumbled quickly as he turned to sprint back into the Med Tent, sweeping the entryway aside and disappearing swiftly into the chaos.

“Talk to me, John! What hurts?”

Only Julia’s deceptively calm question slipped audibly out of the tent, rising on a wave of cacophonous voices and shouting. Even after the flap had been shut once again Danziger’s answer could be heard, a series of wails so visceral that the hair on Yale’s forearms had begun to stand on end. Reaching out frantically, he grabbed the stunned children in his charge by the arms, pulling a shaking True quickly into his lap and wrapping the other arm tightly around Ulysses.

“Don’t be frightened, children. It will be all over very soon and John will be commending you both for being so brave, and so mature and helpful.” He spoke in a hushed whisper, meeting each child’s eye with ardent conviction. “True, your father loves you very much and he told me just yesterday that he is so proud of what a strong girl you’ve been. He loves you so very much.”

Yale found his power of speech failing him, watching this beautiful young girl quiver silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. He wanted to repeat his to her words over and over, fill her aching heart with the reassurance that her father would come back to her.

He wanted to tell Uly that John loved him like his own son, and that he always be there to protect him, to protect them all in the fiercely loyal way that only he could. But he could feel the sudden pull of loss himself, so imminent, as though they were on the escape pod once again, trembling in the darkness, hurtling towards uncertainty.

It was True that brought him back to himself.

“Yale?” She asked, her voice no more than a watery whisper, “Do you know any prayers?”

And he finally knew the right words to say.

“Okay, let’s get ready to ease him down gently.” Julia ordered shakily, the rush of adrenaline and the tense pandemonium of the last several minutes etching fractures in the icy surface of her demeanor. Even as she spoke, the only member of her team that didn’t seem to have a hand in holding some part of Danziger’s body steady or coaxing it into stiff action, her DiaGlove whirred with test after test, anxious to find any trace of internal bleeding or a sign of further injury. They had been incredibly lucky.

Despite a few sutures that hadn’t faired well with all the sudden movement, there hadn’t been any internal damage done by the vaccine to the shattered left leg. There had been a slight bit of trouble with the patella of John’s more hopeful right knee, and she’d had to quickly remove the brace on his calf to give her the room to physically guide it into position, the final straw in Danziger’s terribly painful ordeal.

Her patient, now hanging limp in Walman and Devon’s arms as they awaited the word to begin guiding him down to the mattress, mindful of his newly fused pelvic bones, had lost all control over himself partway through the procedure. His hoarse shouts of agony dissolved into frantic tears, and eventually nothing but a stunned stupor. Danziger was frighteningly quiet as they’d carefully bent and flexed his right side, rotating the ankle at the first sign of a optimistic prognosis on his lower leg, and she’d found herself distracted several times throughout the procedure, constantly checking to make sure he hadn’t lost consciousness, irrationally terrified that he was experiencing internal distress that her finely-tuned instruments were somehow unable to detect.

As it was, he was demonstrating the first signs of hypovolaemic shock, but she was fairly confident now that his thready pulse and labored breathing were as much a result of the pain and the traumatic side-effects of the vaccine than new bleeding. With all that hair and his head hanging down it was hard to read much of anything from his expression.

“Okay, slow and easy. John? You still with us?” She asked gently, coming around to lend support on Devon’s side. Her free hand running the DiaGlove across his chest.

“John? It’s all over now, it‘s all over.” Devon added, the fright in her voice swirling brackishly with the newly evident affection she could no longer see the sense in hiding. As they began to lower him, his head flopped backwards limply, revealing a blissfully vacant expression in his droopy eyes, wet with tears and glistening with sweat.

“Danziger, I need you to talk to us if you can, okay?” Julia asked calmly, shushing Devon gently when she began to panic at his unnerving silence. “I need you to tell me if your having any type of localized pain in your left side. John?” She asked, supporting his head as they softly settled him back, Bess quickly spreading a solar blanket tenderly over his legs, pulling it up to his chin,

Turning to Devon, her eyes flitting over the anxious group of stunned onlookers, Julia attempted a small smile.

“I think he’s just blacked out, there’s no sign of bleeding or cardiopulmonary distress, I think the pain was just a bit too much for him.” She studied the readout on her forearm, anxious for the bone density readout to show levels consistent with optimal fusion so she could begin Danziger’s regime of beta-blockers, antibiotics and pain relief. Despite the quiver of exhilaration running through her at the thought of their incredibly successful procedure, she’d be much more confident when she had his vitals under control, and he was comfortable enough to give them all that lopsided grin they were craving.

Devon knelt tensely by her side, wiping the perspiration from John’s brow, trying not to be alarmed by his heavy lidded, sightless stare.

“Hey Danziger, it’s time to wake up now, c’mon. We’re in the home stretch, you did great.” She murmured softly, startled a bit when, with an almost imperceptible blink, he was back.

“I’m here.” He whispered, his eyes still refusing to focus. Devon grinned, her hand still resting on his forehead, And Bess turned to hug Morgan fiercely, the entire group quietly erupting into a celebratory bluster of hugs and pats on the back.

“Welcome back, John” Julia beamed, Alonzo arriving at her side quickly wiping the last traces of blood from his hands with a rag before giving her a quick squeeze.

“Your unbelievable, man! Great job!” He added softly, reaching out to rub Danziger’s shoulder.

“M’not…dead?” John asked faintly, and Julia let out a chuckle before realizing, in his state of exhaustion and confusion, her patient was asking a serious question.

“Not only are you not dead, John, but I’m starting to think that nothing can kill you.” She assured him good-naturedly. His only response was a slow, tired blink. “Everything went perfectly, and as soon as your readouts are steady I’m gonna get you something for the pain, I promise.”

“You’ve got a set on you, Danz, I’ll give you that much.” Walman teased, each Edenite steadily creeping closer to the bed for a better look at their prodigal mechanic. Morgan gave his signature thumbs up, a bit at a loss for words with his teary eyed wife clinging to him tightly. He was rewarded with a faint twitch of the mouth that seemed to be John’s best attempt at a fatigued smile.

Devon carefully took his hand, and he watched with a remote fascination, as though he wasn’t entirely sure it was still connected to the rest of his body.

“You did it, John.” She whispered, the tears in her eyes sparkling in the ambient light of the Med Tent.

“How’s your left side, Danziger? Do you feel any sharp pain at all?” He stared at the doctor in a stupor, his wandering gaze drifting to some unspecified point on the dome ceiling.

“John? How’s your left leg?” Julia tried again in vain, knowing he was just too out of it to be much diagnostic help. Her monitors still weren’t registering any significant internal distress, however, and with a sigh she allowed herself to relax a bit more, finally accepting the fact that everything truly had gone as planned. For once.

“I guess no news is good news, right Doc?” Alonzo teased, shaking his head fondly at his disorientated friend, flushed with relief.

“I need….True.” The mechanic mumbled drunkenly, just as Julia’s DiaGlove let out two sharp trills, and even as she turned to retrieve her Hypogun she found Denner standing just behind her, the medication at the ready in her hands.

“What you need is rest, Danziger.” She coaxed, quickly injecting him with a dose of the augmented pain block before reloading the gun with a second vile and administering a large dose of antibiotics. “Morgan will go round up True, right now you need to sleep. True will be here when you wake up, okay?” At the mention of his name Morgan was off in a flash with Bess at his heels, eager to share the good news with those outside, and even as Julia’s equipment began to register a more stable respiratory pattern it seemed John was already down for the count.

“Tell True-Girl…” He started, his words evaporating into unintelligible murmurs before trailing of completely.

“Shhh, once you’re feeling better you can tell her yourself.” Julia promised her woozy patient gently, speaking more for herself and her friends than Danziger’s sake. “You’re not going anywhere, Danziger. You’re gonna stay here with us and you’re gonna get out of that bed very soon.”

“C’mon, guys, let’s let Danz get some rest. I think this calls for a celebration!” Walman announced happily, herding his excited, still slightly overwhelmed friends out of the tent. “How about a round of Spirolina? I’m buying.”

Various groans were mixed in with the general congratulatory chatter as the Edenites filed tiredly out, and soon Devon and Julia were left alone with a slumbering Danziger, resting peacefully as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

Julia quickly stood, gathering crimson spotted cloths and stray equipment, dumping them in a hasty pile before carefully puling back the blanket at the foot of the bed, already disinfecting and cleaning the ragged sutures before Devon’s frazzled mind had even registered that the Doctor had left her side.

Not taking her eyes off Danziger’s fluttering eyelashes, she tentatively broke the silence.

“Were you telling him the truth?” She asked bashfully, running her thumb over a spot of blood on John’s lower lip, where he’d broken the delicate skin with clenched teeth.

“Telling him the truth about what?” Julia responded detachedly, her chromo-skewed mind working overtime to distance herself from the situation.

“When you told him he’d be getting out of bed soon.” Devon clarified, weary of the answer and Julia’s obvious evasiveness.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t think it was true.” She responded, a layer of frost already gathering on her dismissive tone. As Devon watched, the doctor methodically ran the tip of her pen-light along the instep of John’s right foot, then across the tip of each toe, observing each flinch and tapping on her HoloPad. She looked absolutely exhausted.

“Hey.” Devon admonished softly, finally drawing her friend’s gaze from her work. Julia tried her best to look exasperated, but as she met the leader’s eyes she was struck with the relief and fear in her bleary expression. The same emotions were still at war within herself, as much as she tried to deny herself their release.

“Devon, I’m sorry--”

“I don’t want you to be sorry.” The leader cut her off, her gaze trailing back to Danziger’s oddly cherubic features, soft with sleep. “ I want you to be happy. I want you to be filled with relief and pride that you’ve accomplished a wonderful thing for John, and for all of us. And I want you to slow down and realize how exhausted you are.” She glanced back to see Julia frozen in her spot, pen light still raised expectantly for it’s next pass. “I want you to rest, Julia. Let yourself feel it, it’s okay.”

She finished in nearly a whisper, and she’d barely gotten the last word out before Julia’s hands dropped to her sides and her face crumbled, the pen light rolling, forgotten, under Danziger’s cot.

Devon rose swiftly, gently placing Danziger’s hand at his side before rushing to embrace the trembling doctor. The thought crossed her mind that it was these small examples of simple kindnesses that the woman before her had been denied her entire life. Her parents had engineered her to not require such a mundane reassurance as touching. Devon felt shameful that there was ever a time in her life that she’d seen nothing wrong with chromo-tilting, as though it would ever be possible to augment a living being without taking something precious away in return. Julia sniffed loudly against her shoulder, and Devon found herself rubbing her friend’s shoulders as though it were her son, awakened in the darkness from some terrible nightmare. Maybe Julia had something more in common with Uly than either of them knew. G889 had undoubted healed Uly’s body, but Devon was just beginning to see that this incredible place had somehow healed Julia’s soul as well.

“It’s so hard seeing him in that much pain, knowing I’m the only one who can do anything about it, knowing that every time he flinches, every time we have to put him though some sort of horrible procedure, I’m responsible. It’s me.” Julia spoke quietly, gently disentangling herself from Devon and wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“He’s your friend, Julia. It doesn’t make you a bad doctor because you feel sympathy for your patient. But it doesn’t mean your at fault either. John chose to take the vaccine because he knew he could trust you. He knew that if there was anyone who could pull him through it, it would be you.” Julia let out a watery laugh, sitting back tiredly on her haunches.

“Yeah, well, as our smooth-talking pilot once said, I’m the best doc in town.” She sighed, rejecting the leader’s praise.

“What a gentleman.” Devon scoffed, reaching out absently to rest her hand against Danziger’s foot, as though she could give him her strength through osmosis. “It hasn’t been easy for me Julia, first trusting you with my son’s care, then learning to trust you all over again.” Julia looked away shyly. “I want you to listen to me and believe me when I tell you that you are the best doctor I have ever known. You are the only doctor I want looking after Uly, the only one I trust to do what’s best for John, and for all of us. And I want you to know that when we reach New Pacifica and meet the colony ship, those feelings aren’t going to change. You will always be the best doc in town.”

The smile Devon received lit Julia’s face in a way she had never seen before. She hoped that in the future, she would see it much more often.

“Then we’d better get John up and around; I think the look on Vasquez’ face will easily be worth a few thousand miles.” Both women chuckled, helping each other to shakily stand.

Devon resumed her post at Danziger’s side, just in time to see him huff a bit in his sleep, shifting his upper body with a new found ease as he grumbled, caught in a dream.

“…s‘solar fuse…s’too lose…” Julia turned from her work table, startled to hear his voice, but her features softened when she saw he was still deeply under.

“Guess we got ourselves one dedicated mechanic.” She ribbed, watching with renewed amusement as Devon leaned in to gently kiss Danziger’s brow. That would definitely take some getting used to.

“He’s like a dog chasing repairs.” Devon spoke with a rare tenderness in her voice, turning to gauge Julia’s reaction with the bright eyes of a proud parent. Julia had seen that look before, at every hint of improvement from her ailing son, and later at each small achievement that brought him that much closer to being a ‘normal boy.” All the pride was there, but there was something different in her expression, too.

Julia grinned again, turning back to her disarrayed equipment. If there had been any doubt in her mind before, the spark in Devon’s eyes as she watched over Danziger washed them all away.

Devon Adair was a woman in love.

“Think about it, True-Girl, you can do it.” Danziger assured his daughter patiently, squinting as a rustle of branches in the nearby, solitary tree sent streaks of sunlight playing across his face. It was a mild day, and he was glad as he reclined on his elbows, sweating a bit as his daughter sat the foot of his hammock, distractedly guiding his right ankle in slow circles as she chewed her bottom lip.

“I’m no good at math.“ She decreed a bit over dramatically, casting a anguished glance at Yale, where he sat with Uly a few feet away, the small boy tapping his foot impatiently.

“I got the answer five minutes ago, Yale! Let me answer it!” He begged exasperatedly, squirming on his stool. He fought the urge to raise his hand, as he would have back in the Syndrome Ward classes Yale used to sometimes teach.. Back on the stations he was one of the smartest kids in his group, and here on G889, with True as his only competition, things were no different. Sure, she was good at some subjects like science and astronomy, but sometimes he wished it could be just he and Yale again, so he could give all the answers and not have to wait for slow-poke True Danziger to figure out the stuff he already knew.

“Ulysses, it’s True’s turn now, and I’m sure if you grant her some quiet she’ll have the answer for us shortly.”

“He’s right Yale." The girl agreed sullenly. "I’ll never understand it. I don’t know why I need to know this stuff anyway.” She wished he would just let Uly answer the damn question so she could stop feeling so stupid.

“Think I need a break, Sport.” Danziger grunted, flopping on his back, surveying his crewmates lazily as they bustled about, packing up camp.

Everyone was excited to finally be moving on, leaving behind the barren landscape that Walman and Alonzo had ceremoniously and incongruously named ‘Danziger Falls,’ much to the mechanics infinite dismay. Devon had been no help, she and Julia had instantly agreed, through a fit of giggles, that it was a perfectly strange tribute for an equally strange man. Morgan had assured him that the mystique and bewilderment created by a stretch of desert with such a name would put it on the map as a popular vacation destination once the planet had been properly settled.

Trying to catch his breath, his mind absently repeating twenty point two, twenty point two, he caught a glimpse of Alonzo stowing a few cargo bins in the back of the ‘Rail, and he decided that what his flummoxed daughter needed was a little practical application.

“Hey, True-Girl.” He caught his daughters attention, as she was inattentively tried to unbuckle the straps on his knee brace, staring into space in a mathematical haze.

“It’s no use, Dad. I’m stumped.” She sighed.

“Say I needed to reinforce the struts on the ‘rail, all the way around as much as I could, and I had a big ol‘ can with eighty-one carbon bolts in it.” Seeing where her father was going with this, she sighed again, but turned her gaze to the vehicle, examining the four dingy yellow struts.

“Okay. Eighty-one carbon bolts.” She repeated morosely, and he stifled a smile. Sitting up to put an arm around her, his stiff and achy legs still out in front of him, he leaned in until his head was almost on her shoulder.

“I want you to spread em’ out evenly, all along those four weight-bearing struts, but I want you to get as many bolts on there as possible, cause, y’know, Alonzo’s gonna be crashing that thing over hills going about sixty clicks an hour, and we gotta keep flyboy safe.” True chuckled a bit at this, and Yale nodded encouragingly, inwardly noting that True’s academic performance had improved drastically since her father had been available to sit in on some lessons, offering his own brand of camouflaged praise and guidance.

“Well, those struts are like, what Dad, about five feet across?” The little girl asked, her fingers absently ticking as she counted in her mind.

“Just about that, True-Girl.” Danziger grinned with satisfaction, unhinging the knee brace himself and easing it off with minimal discomfort.

These physical therapy sessions Julia had commissioned True to enforce were a pain in the ass, but they were sure working wonders. It’d been less than a week since the vaccine had been administered, and he was already managing to schlep his sorry ass here and there, with the aid of the larger brace on his left leg and a single crutch.

“So you could probably fit about…” She trailed off, mentally calculating with a renewed sense of purpose.

“Yale, that’s cheating!” Uly huffed, certain, even though he knew nothing about bolts and struts, that Mr. Danziger was secretly giving True all the answers.

“Uly, mind your manners!” The tutor warned gravely as he leaned closer to the boy.

Gingerly bending his knee until his shoeless foot was resting on the hammock behind his daughter, Danziger glanced in the boy’s direction, not so much insulted as he was surprised at the unexpected burst of Adair. Like mother, like son he mused, brushing a lock of hair behind True’s ear tenderly as she squinted at the DuneRail like a gunslinger. He gave Yale an easy smile when the older man sent him an apologetic look.

“You were fortunate to grow up with your own tutor, Uly, but we must remember that True has never had the opportunity to attend school." Yale reprimanded the boy quietly, slightly mortified by his outburst. Danziger tried his best to look as though he wasn't listening.

"You are very fortunate, and you’re also a very good student, but just think of how much True has learned in her own way! Think of what a good teacher Mr. Danziger has been, that True can study alongside you in your advanced classes and earn the same marks that you do.”

Thoroughly embarrassed, Uly stared at the ground shamefully, which made Danziger distinctly uncomfortable. Yale had paid him a great compliment, but he was by no means a teacher. He just tended to look at life a little differently than most Drones. Education wasn’t something to resent, some unreachable Level Three luxury. It was something you could earn for yourself, if you could learn to see the opportunities presented to you through the layers of Station grease.

“Hey, pal, you’re next, okay? The next question that stumps you, I’ll try and give you a hint.” Danziger promised the young boy, and he nodded sheepishly as True leapt from the hammock, sending it swaying drunkenly.

“Twenty!! You can fit twenty carbon bolts on each strut, but your gonna have some left over.” Uly looked a bit surprised, but still happy that True had finally gotten the question right. He figured Mr. Danziger was a pretty good teacher after all. He was good at everything.

“Oh yeah?” Danziger asked curiously as True retook her post happily and gently grasped her fathers leg, methodically straightening and bending his knee carefully.

“Two. And a half. But you have to round up, Dad, so it’s technically three, I guess. There are about three carbon bolts left over, Yale.” She informed him casually, as though the tutor had been the one to ask for the vehicle specifications in the first place.

“Correct, True! Eighty-one divided by four equals twenty, with a remainder of two point five.” The cyborg nodded, pleased at his student, and marked the right answer in the examination database he kept in his logs.

True beamed at her father, temporarily disappearing behind his knee before appearing again, glowing with a renewed sense of confidence.

“Atta girl!” Danziger whispered lovingly as he concentrated on his exercises, winking at his daughter before leaning back to bask in the sunlight of the absolutely perfect day.

Closing his eyes, Danziger allowed his attention to drift away from rudimentary math and was instantly assaulted by the sounds of camp. His friends we all in good spirits, chattering away. He could hear Magus and Walman bantering over by the DuneRail, each one complaining about the others driving, and who should be first behind the wheel. Prompting a playfully biting interjection from Mazatl regarding Magus’ recent driving record. He smiled a bit as he hear the woman laugh in response, thankful that she’d finally learned to take the accident in stride.

Morgan and Bess were arguing over something, too far away for him to make out the particulars, but he could tell from the calm, dulcet tones of Bess’ speech that Martin was no doubt over-reacting to whatever was causing the fuss.

“…very sweet thing to do…” He heard Bess reassure her husband clearly, realizing without opening his eyes that the pair was getting closer.

“…was me! Don’t tell him it was me, Bess! Are you trying to get me killed!” Martin’s voice dropped a bit as the approached, and John couldn’t help but grin as he wondered what in God’s name that man was up to now.

“How ya feelin’, Danziger?” Bess inquired as the couple approached the hammock. Martin had fallen silent, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

He opened his eyes to take them in, catching sight of his daughter peripherally, poring over some equation in what was clearly a race. Bess on the other hand was sauntering slowly, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. Her husband, trailing a few steps behind, more closely resembled the canary.

“Right as rain, Bess.” He assured her, sitting up hurriedly. He wasn’t at full strength yet, but that didn’t mean he was gonna lounge around while the other colonists did all the work. He scrambled to reach his shoes, which had toppled from the cargo net in True’s burst of mathematical epiphany, but before he could ease himself up Morgan had already scooped them up and quickly deposited them at his feet.

“Thanks, man.” The mechanic acknowledged softly, straining to get the shoe on his useless left foot, held frustratingly rigid by the slim, fiberglass brace that Cameron had fitted for him. He was immensely relieved that neither Martin attempted to lend him a hand. This was going to be part of his routine from now on, and the sooner he became adept at it, the sooner he could start ignoring the damn thing all together.

Starting at mid thigh and extending down to support his ankle, the brace was light and unobtrusive enough to be worn all the time, yet still allow Danziger to move around basically unencumbered. Because the knee was held in a locked position to allow him to support weight on the leg, he’d discovered with a healthy dose of chagrin that walking with an awkward, lumbering gait seemed unavoidable. Devon and True assured him it was a small price to pay, and that when the strength in his right leg was back to normal, it would hardly be noticeable. That was all well and good, but he’d shuffled around camp on his crutches his first few days out of bed red-faced with pent up frustration and more than a little embarrassment.

“Morgan and I were wondering--”

“Bess!” The bureaucrat hissed, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. The Earth-Res gave her husband an exasperated look before turning back to John with a patient smile. Danziger did his best to hide his amusement.

“That is, I was wondering where you were planning on riding this morning? I was thinking that it might be kind of squished in the cab of the Transrover, and you should probably keep that leg elevated when you can.” She paused a moment, staring at her husband expectantly. He was intently studying the arid dirt at his feet. John finished with his shoelace without ceremony. His double knot lacked finesse, but it would hold the damn boot on well enough. Besides, he could have True-Girl untangle it for him later, when he wasn’t on such public display.

“Something you wanted to say, Martin?” He asked, doing his best to keep his tone light and non-combatant. Despite Bess’ constant visits and help with True during his recovery, Danziger had yet to succeed in getting her husband to say three words to him. He’d made several stilted attempts at conversation over the past week, but it seemed that Morgan was determined to avoid him at all costs, as though invisibility was the only way to stay in John’s good graces.

Danziger didn’t like it. If they were ever going to get off on the right foot, he would prefer it that Martin didn’t look like he was about to wet his pants every time the two of them occupied the same room.

“You know, I’m not gonna bite you, Morgan. In fact, at the speed I’m moving, I couldn’t even give much of a chase.” He grimaced, synching the synth-leather brace on his right knee tightly.

Morgan finally met his eyes, rubbing his arm unconsciously a bit before beginning, as if to remind himself exactly where he stood with John Danziger.

“Well, I don’t want to bother you, I mean, you’re a busy man, and Bess has a way of always knocking knees…” He panicked, his eyes drawn to the newly laced-up brace with a pang of realization. “Heh! I mean, I love her to death and she means well, but she has a habit of being underfoot--Oh, wow. Okay, I’m going to stop talking now.” He turned to his wife, his hands wind milling frantically. “Do you see what happens when I open my mouth, Bess! This is why I didn’t want to say anything--”

“Martin, it’s alright.” Danziger chuckled, wondering if standing would put the man at ease or just intimidate him further.

“Honey, calm down. Why don’t you just tell John what we came here to say, and then we can go help the others finish packing up, okay?” He looked at her agape for a moment, until she rested her hand on his arm, whispering with an indulgent smile, “It’s okay, Morgan, Be positive, remember?”

Clearing his throat, Morgan turned back to the seated mechanic, smiling falsely as though a distant holovid director had just yelled ‘action!’ for a new take. Danziger returned the smile warmly, almost feeling guilty at the bureaucrat’s discomfort in his presence.

“Well, I just wanted to let you know that I’ve loaded our tent and other things onto a carry-pack, so there’s plenty of room in the back of the Transrover, if you wanted to, you know, spread out a bit. Bess and I thought it might be good to have a place to catch a quick nap. Not that I don’t think you’re up for a bit of travel, but--”

Danziger did stand then, cutting off Morgan’s hasty backtracking before he could dig himself any deeper.

“I appreciate that, Martin, I really do. But I don’t want you lugging a tent around on your back all day on account of me. I’ll make do.” Morgan looked perplexed, as though he hadn’t counted on Danziger turning him down.

“John, maybe it’s a good idea for you have a place to rest.” Bess reminded him, glancing sideways at her husband before continuing on, trying not to sound too much like a mother hen. “Why don’t we just set it up with a bed roll, and then later in the day, if your feeling a bit claustrophobic in the cab, you can--”

“I’m not riding in the Transrover, Bess.” Danziger informed her gently, shifting his weight and taking a few stilted steps to retrieve his single crutch from it’s resting place against the hammock support. “But maybe later I’ll take you up on that offer, okay? We’ll see how the morning travel goes, it‘s gonna be a long day.”

Raising his hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun, he gazed off in the direction they would soon be headed in, his expression unreadable.

“Danziger, if Devon finds out your planning on riding in the DuneRail she’s not gonna like it. You hardly fit in that tiny seat to begin with!” Bess reminded him, silently noting that Devon had already assigned Magus and Walman to the Rail earlier at breakfast. John just smiled and nodded.

She knew that starting out on the proverbial road again wouldn’t be easy for John, but she had been hoping that he would at least consent to taking it easy for the first few days. He’d made a remarkable recovery, but it was no big secret that he wasn’t quite up to par.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not gonna be riding in the DuneRail.” He responded slyly, hitching his crutch up under his arm. “I thought I’d walk, for a while.”

“Yale! Kids! We’re about ready to get moving!” Devon called out, approaching quickly from the remains of the Med Tent. Even as she spoke, Danziger had begun unstaking the support poles supporting the hammock, and with a muttered, “Gimme a hand, Martin?” Morgan had earnestly begun helping him slowly coil the cargo netting around the poles. Bess, still speechless, looked from her husband and her friend to Devon, and then quickly back a the DuneRail, before bracing herself for impact.

“You ready to get outta this spot, Danziger?” Devon asked teasingly, wordlessly handing John a mug full of water and one of his endless small white pills. He grinned back, dry swallowing the tablet before downing a quick sip of water.

“Oh man, you have no idea, Adair.” He laughed, wiping his mouth hastily with the back of his hand and returning the mug. “It may have it’s nice spots, but Danziger Falls will not be missed.” He joked, turning to clap Morgan on the back. Bess smirked as her husband tried his best not to look alarmed. “It’s all yours, pal! Build an amusement park and luxury units if you want to, but I will not be back.”

A true smile lighting his face, Morgan nodded agreeably. “I can see it now! Right over there we can build a Transcoaster, with a huge sign that says, “Please do not stand when the ride is in motion.”

Danziger erupted into a huge peal of laughter, Bess and Devon not far behind, and with a sigh he absently wrapped his free arm around Devon’s shoulders. Bess loved seeing the two of them being more or less open with each other, though their argumentative dynamic hadn’t changed a bit. She glanced again at the DuneRail, just in time to see Yale climbing aboard to ride in the backseat, the remaining seat filled with cargo. This was going to be bad.

With a final survey of the deconstructed camp site, Devon looked up into Danziger’s face warmly, a small frown of concern at the corners of her mouth. “You sure you‘re ready?”

Danziger nodded, scanning for True who was running back from stowing the last of their gear in the rack on the ‘Rover with Uly in tow. “Positive. Let’s move out.” He gave her a quick peck on the crown of her head, so lightening quick and natural that Bess would have missed it if she hadn’t been watching their exchange so closely, and without another word he was off, clumsily headed to meet his daughter.

Devon watched him go, a myriad of emotions playing across her face. Morgan cleared his throat softly, suddenly aware that he wanted to be far from the scene when Devon caught wind of Danziger’s latest ploy to run himself into the ground.

“Better go hitch up that pack.” He mumbled, his long legs furiously striding in the opposite direction.

Bess turned to study Devon again. Though she was weary of playing tattle tale, she was even more worried about her friend’s well-being, and about possibly heading an explosive argument between the two leaders off at the pass.

“Um, Devon? I’m not sure if this is something John was planning to tell you or not,

but--”

“Obstinate, isn’t he?” Devon smiled, by way of an answer. Slightly taken aback, Bess waved absently at the DuneRail as it sped past, off to scout the way. “Julia and I discussed it with him last night, and while we’re fairly certain he’s gonna change his mind pretty fast, we decided to let him start the day on foot.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Bess asked timidly, still not used to voicing her opinion too forcefully, or the fact that once she did, Devon and the other’s actually took it seriously. “I know Danziger thinks he has to push himself, but he must understand by now that no one in the group thinks…”

Devon sighed, and Bess cut herself short, worried she’s said too much.

“You know, Bess, I think this doesn’t have anything to do with the group, for once.” She smiled a little, watching Uly run to the ATV to retrieve his Terrian staff, eager to emulate John in any way he could. “I think this may be a matter of self-preservation more than anything else. The way he looks at it, he walked into this place, and he’s gonna walk out. I don’t think any of us has the right to deny him that.”

“Not that it isn’t completely insane.” Julia chimed in, coming up behind them with a grin on her face. “But then, I can only heal one part of him at a time. I say we give it a week before I start in on the delusions of grandeur.” No one was more thankful the doctor to be leaving the events of the recent past here where they belonged, in this stretch of barren desert soon to be fading into the distance.

“The kids will keep him company and help set a slower pace, and I figure with all the time we’ve spent sitting around, everyone could use a slow day to ease back into traveling.” Both Bess and Julia couldn’t help but scoff a bit at the leader’s suddenly lenient attitude. It seemed that if any of them had any gripes or concerns to voice, now would be a good time to capitalize on her temporary time-out to dote on Danziger.

“What?” Devon asked them both with mock offense, studying their conspiratorial glances.

“I’m fighting the urge to scan you for a fever as we speak..” Julia replied seriously, and Bess grinned.

“Mark my words, tomorrow John will be safely riding somewhere he can rest and I’ll be pushing everyone twice as far. But for now, I’m willing to indulge him. Just this once. It won’t happen again.”

When neither woman seemed the least bit convinced, she blushed a bit out of self-consciousness and decided to change the topic.

“Did you and True work out your code?” She asked the doctor, and Morgan shuffled over with an absolutely tremendous pack on his shoulders.

“Yes, we did. At the very mention of changing her name to “Julia-Girl,” I will be ready to swoop in and insist as John’s doctor that he take a break from walking. Hopefully, he’ll be too bushed to put up much of a fight.”

“Why isn’t everyone screaming?” Morgan asked, already a bit out of breath. As Alonzo started up the Transrover and began creeping forward, the small group fell into a comfortable pace, heading towards the rest of the walkers, bringing up the rear.

. Slightly ahead of the ’Rover, Danziger was keeping a steady, if not lopsided gait straight into the sun, handing True the sunglasses off his head as the two kids scampered beside him, Uly unconsciously using his walking-staff as a makeshift crutch of his own.

“Danziger’s walking this morning, Morgan. He already ran it by Julia, and she says it’s okay, for a little while.” Bess leaned over and impulsively kissed her husband on the cheek, pleased he’d finally found the courage to attempt reconciliation with John. The mechanic may be able to hold a grudge, but he couldn’t be helped to forgive with Morgan avoiding him at every turn. It seemed the two men had finally come to a long-awaited truce.

“Well, he’s insane.” The lawyer declared simply.

“That was never under debate.” Julia reminded him, catching him by his arm he stumbled a bit.

“So, since he’s up there playing ‘leader of the pack,’ what do you say I get rid of this

tent-”


“Morgan.” Bess cautioned softly, and he shook his head in disgust.

“I know. I know, Bess! Jeez, I’m going up there with the rest of the walking wounded!” He mumbled with feigned offense, lengthening his stride to easily catch up with John and the kids.

“He usually isn’t this much work.” Bess reminded the others, sheepishly. “He’s trying really hard to get on Danziger’s good side, but old habits die hard.”

Julia chuckled under her breath, but Devon nodded towards the two men in agreement.

“You know, Bess, he’s really been a big help. And John has told me more than once that he really appreciates how hard he’s trying.” The two walked on in silence for a moment, watching the darkened silhouettes of the men, chatting as though they’d been friends for life, albeit rather stiffly. Julia kept her eyes trained steadily on Danziger, watching for any signs of difficulty, but he seemed to be keeping pace will minimal effort. She had no doubt that crutch would be gone in a matter of days.

“Who knows?” Devon continued, thinking out loud. “Maybe Morgan will be able to draw Danziger out of his shell a bit. He’s always been kind of quiet.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Julia guffawed loudly, taking her eyes off her patient in order to glance at Devon incredulously.

“Well, I mean, when he isn’t barking out commands like a drill sergeant. He’s actually quite laconic.” She informed them matter-of-factly, as though she had suddenly, with this shift in their relationship, become the authority on all things John Danziger.

Bess had her doubts. “Now Devon, no one would like Morgan and John to be friends more than me, but I’ll be the first one to admit that they don’t have very much in common.”

From up ahead a bark of laughter could be heard, and they paused again, seeing True parading behind Morgan, pretending to be holding up the pack. Uly was jumping up and down like a veritable puppy, and John-- the source of the laughter-- didn’t look in the least like a man who required concentration to put one foot in front of the other.

“Do it, Dad! We wanna hear!” True screamed shrilly, loud enough to be heard clearly from the back of the caravan.

“Oh I don’t know, Bess. You might be surprised.” Devon continued pensively. “ I think maybe Morgan and John have more in common than we think. It’s just a matter of them getting to know one another.”

Up ahead, Uly began wiggling in a silly sort of dance, and True abandoned her station behind Morgan’s pack to join him, waving her hands in the air. From under the drone of the Transrover, protesting a little louder than usual after it’s weeks of neglect, the sound of male voices could be heard, strangely boisterous in the relative quiet static of the convoy.

“Helter Skelter in a summer swelter, the birds flew off with a fallout shelter, eight miles high and fallin’ FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAST!” Both men broke off laughing, True and Uly cheering as they both spun around and crashed into each other unceremoniously. “It landed foul in the grass…um,wait, it goes…”

Morgan and Danziger continued to stumble through the song, each one a bit off-key at times, but as the women watched in amazement the two would-be foes trudged along with their crutches and heavy-laden packs, resembling more a troop of drunken gypsies than two men who couldn’t stand the sight of each other a few weeks before.

Devon couldn’t stop smiling, relieved to be on the move again, to be whole, a tighter group than she’d imagined the disparate members of Eden Advance could ever be. Whatever lay ahead of them on the way to New Pacifica, she knew they would face it head on. She’d never felt more confident that she’d done the right thing, leaving the stations for G889. It was frightening at times, and there were still many uncertainties that she could neither predict or control, but through the countless cosmic ironies thrust upon her she’d come to realize one thing, the most important thing of all.

This planet was her home, her true home. And these people were her true friends, the only ones she’d ever need. And perhaps, the greatest surprise of all was that John Danziger, the lumbering giant with the crazy hair singing at the top of his lungs in the sunlight, loved her every ounce as much as she loved him. And she had never known she’d had that much love to give.

“Okay, ready? Key change! Bye, bye Miss American Pie, drove the Chevy--”

“’Rover!”

“ -- to the levee but the levee was dry, and good old boy’s were drinking whiskey and

rye--”

“Amen!”


“-- singin’ this’ll be the day that I die!”

Bess and Julia were laughing like teenagers as the watched the men wailing like sailors, but Devon found herself a bit overcome. Trekking along in the blazing sunlight, a gentle wind sweeping her hair in her eyes, she closed her eyes in contentment, humming along under her breath.

“This’ll be the day that I die.”