All Things Considered by Allison McDonnell

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Danziger was determined to get back on his feet and resume his life as quickly as possible. His health continued to rebound at a brisk pace and, in only two days, he was able to venture downstairs and finally tour the rest of his new house. By the week's end, he'd regained enough of his strength to walk next door to visit Yale's home. Soon afterward, he was stopping by all of the houses lining the dirt road, catching up with the members of Eden Advance one by one.

As happy as John was to talk to them, he also found it a bit difficult. It certainly wasn't their fault. They couldn't have been nicer to him and everyone had welcomed him back into the fold with open arms. It just took some adjustment on his part. On the positive side, many of the perils that they had experienced during the first five months of their journey such as the lack of food, shelter and clothing were no longer issues. Gone was the Nomadic lifestyle of traveling every day, sleeping under the stars and carrying everything they'd owned in the few dufflebags which had weathered the crash. And, over time, the group had not only survived and adapted to their surroundings, they had become a close-knit family with an unbreakable bond.

However, this posed a slight problem for Danziger. While their lives had continued onward, his had remained literally frozen in place. Memories that were fresh to him were over two years old to everyone else. And although many of the Edenites such as Bess, Alonzo and Cameron seemed to be almost exactly the same as John had remembered them, a few of the others had changed. Magus and Walman, in particular, had become lovers and were now sharing the same living quarters. The couple had also taken on a good deal of responsibility by jointly running the Engineering Department and heading up the Construction Committee. Morgan, too, seemed to be much more centered than before, though as far as Danziger was concerned, the bureaucrat still had a long way to go before he'd ever trust him with anything important in his life.

All in all, after everything that the group had endured, John was pleased to find that they seemed to be genuinely happy with the lives that they'd made in New Pacifica. Of course, nothing was perfect and there were a few problems such as their occasional mistreatment by some of the town's snootier residents. And, whenever John had asked about Devon, the Edenites had very little information to share beyond what Yale had already told him. All of them continued to remain steadfastly loyal to Devon and they always would, yet every one of them also admitted that, over the past few years, they'd felt emotionally cut off from her, just the same.

Danziger was also feeling a bit cut off, and not just from Devon who he'd barely seen or spoken to since his resurrection. Not only had the mechanic been replaced as Devon's right-hand man, he no longer held a job of any kind. There wasn't even anything around the house that needed to be fixed. With nothing to occupy his time, the days crept by at an agonizing pace. He needed to contribute in some way besides helping the children with their homework. Therefore, he figured that it was high-time that he took a trip into New Pacifica to see if he could finally become gainfully employed. Lacking a vehicle, he asked Yale if he could borrow his Dunerail for the morning. Yale responded that, by chance, he was also on his way into town and graciously offered to take him along for the ride. And, in yet another coincidence, both men were planning to visit the very same place.

As they pulled up to the administration building, Danziger took a good look around him and realized that he stuck out like a sore thumb. Overall, he had to admit that, in comparison with the more recent inhabitants of G889, he looked rather disheveled. His face displayed several days worth of beard growth and his hair was a tangled muss of dirty blond curls. And, although several kindhearted people had generously donated a few newer items of clothing for him to wear (after which Bess had altered to fit his larger size), he'd opted in favor of a faded and oft-patched shirt and trousers that he'd owned before he'd been placed in cold-sleep. It wasn't as if he was unappreciative of the colonist's gifts. He'd just simply felt more comfortable wearing the older clothes.

Despite the unusual looks that he was receiving from some of the passers-by, Danziger exited the vehicle and entered the building with his head held high. He'd never really cared about his appearance before and he certainly wasn't about to start now. The only thing that did bother him a bit was the fact that he lacked his trusty tool belt around his waist. He'd almost decided to wear it, but had ended up nixing the idea when he couldn't justify a single reason to bring it with him. He hoped that this would change soon after Devon had assigned him a job. Even if it meant that he would be returned to his former Drone status performing nothing more than menial tasks, at least he'd finally have something to do.

Danziger followed Yale up the stairwell to the second floor and then down the corridor which ended at the Executive Administration office. Once there, they were warmly greeted by Devon's receptionist, a woman in her mid-fifties with cocoa brown eyes and shoulder length dark hair which was generously interspersed with silver strands. Although she was pleasant to look at, her features somehow conveyed both kindness and toughness at the same time. She didn't look as though she was willing to put up with any nonsense whatsoever. Danziger liked her immediately.

"May I present to you, Ms. Anna Lancaster," Yale said as he traded smiles with the woman. He went on to explain, "Anna's grandson was born with the Syndrome and she was the very first person to agree to the Terrian cure. We owe her a debt of gratitude."

"On the contrary," Anna was quick to respond. "I'm the one who owes Devon and the Terrians. If it wasn't for them, Jacob would have never lived to see his ninth birthday."

John noticed that, as Anna was shaking his offered hand, she was making a point of looking him up and down and there was a curious expression evident on her face.

His head cocked back a bit. "Is something wrong?" he asked, suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable.

"Not at all," she replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "I guess I just thought that you'd be taller."

Danziger pulled his hand back wearing a look of mild shock. Clearly, that was a comment he'd never heard before.

His reaction caused both Anna and Yale to break into a small chuckle. "I'm just kidding, Mr. Danziger," she said, giving him a wink. "Braeden and the others have told me all about you. It's wonderful to finally be able to attach a face to the name that I've heard so often."

It took John a moment to process who Braeden was, but after observing the affectionate looks passing between Yale and Anna, it became obvious that the cyborg had at last been able to come to terms with his past. And it also looked as though he'd also found himself some female companionship in the process. This day is just full of surprises, Danziger thought to himself.

"Is Devon in a meeting?" Yale inquired, still grinning.

Anna's smile faded slightly. "If you want to call it that," she exclaimed, rolling her eyes as she motioned behind her toward the closed office door. "Oscar Taggert is in there for his daily complaint session. As usual, he didn't have an appointment, so feel free to interrupt them." She pivoted her head to Danziger. "I'm sure Devon won't mind in the least."

John took two large strides toward Devon's office, but paused when he realized that Yale hadn't moved from his spot next to Anna's desk.

"Aren't you coming?"

The tutor shook his head. "I'm sure that you can handle this alone," he stated. His smile reappeared as he turned back to face an already beaming Anna. "Besides, it would seem that Ms. Lancaster and I have some dinner plans to discuss."

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Danziger had barely turned the knob when a deep, slithery voice declared, "Well, look who's here."

The mechanic remained in the doorway and traded leers with Oscar Taggert. The man was roughly the same age as John, but that was where the similarities between the two ended. He was several inches shorter than Danziger with straight, jet black hair that was neatly tied into a ponytail. He was impeccably dressed in a dark suit and there was even a glossy shine to his shoes. His arms were smugly folded across his chest and he wore a patronizing expression that John suspected was permanently etched into his features. In fact, Taggert's nose was stuck so far up in the air that Danziger wondered how he managed to avoid drowning whenever it rained.

He turned his attention toward Devon who was seated at her desk. She had remained cool and collected with the exception of the alarmed look that had flashed across her face when John had first arrived. "Danziger," she said. "Oscar and I are in the middle of something right now. I'd appreciate it if you would wait out in the reception area for a few minutes until we're done." Devon had meant to sound as composed as her outward appearance, but her true emotions had belied her and her tone came across as strained. And by the look on John's face, there was little doubt that he'd picked up on it.

The air was thick with tension while Danziger volleyed his eyes back and forth between the two, silently sizing up the situation.

Finally, he took a step into the room and closed the door behind him. "I think I'd rather stay," he said with a nod.

Taggert loudly scoffed to show his disdain, causing John to swerve his own disapproving gaze to focus squarely on the colonist. Because of this, neither of them noticed yet another flash of anxiety briefly displayed on Devon's features. As for Taggert, he was completely unfazed by Danziger's glare and, if anything, it only served as inspiration for him to turn his rude behavior up a notch.

He broke his staring contest with the mechanic and turned his entire body to address Devon, making sure that his back was facing Danziger. "So, where were we, Devon?" he said in a voice that somehow managed to be cold-blooded and pretentious at the same time. "Oh yes, now I remember. You run this place like it's a dictatorship. It's bad enough that you forbid anyone from returning home on the colony ship. But then you demoted Vasquez and the other specialists that you brought from the Stations and replaced them with a group of inexperienced Yes Men like Julia Heller and Morgan Martin. You've outlawed dozens of items including geolocks. You had the audacity to give away all of the best land to the hired help before we even got here. And then you added insult to injury by forcing the rest of us to live in substandard housing units like we're prisoners."

Devon sat stonefaced throughout the tirade. She'd already heard this speech or similar versions of it dozens of times before and she'd long ago given up defending her viewpoint. It was obvious to her that Taggert had no interest in hearing her response or would be willing to work together to come to any sort of an understanding. In Devon's mind, Taggert would be perfectly satisfied with ranting to an empty room, just as long as he had the benefit of hearing himself talk.

Meanwhile, Taggert blustered onward. "That's what G889 is. It's a prison. We're assigned work details, whether we want them or not. And if we're unhappy, we have to submit a petition to be voted on by a committee filled with more of your Yes Men." He waved his hands skyward in exasperation. "You've even restricted us from traveling any more than ten kilometers beyond New Pacifica's borders."

"Because it's too dangerous," Devon interjected, still remaining amazingly even-tempered. "There are penal colonists, ZEDs, Kobas and other life forms that you've never seen before."

"So you say," he sneered. "We have nothing but your word that they exist."

His eyes narrowed. "When will you admit that you completely misrepresented yourself and The Eden Project? This is a clear-cut case of fraud. In fact, if you'd bothered to set up any type of a court system in New Pacifica, I'd be inclined to sue you. And I bet that I could build a hell of a criminal case against you as well." He straightened his posture and pulled down on his suit jacket when he realized that it was in danger of becoming wrinkled. "Face it, Devon. You're no better than a common con-artist."

John was infuriated by Taggert's remarks. He was also befuddled as to why Devon was continuing to sit there and accept his abuse instead of sticking up for herself. But regardless of her motivations, Danziger knew that he could no longer stay quiet.

"You know what? You gotta lot of nerve talkin' to her like that," he exclaimed. "That woman over there is the reason that we all have a second chance. It's because of her that our kids can grow up breathing fresh air and have a life that we'd never dreamed was possible."

Taggert swerved to face the mechanic and spat, "And what kind of life is that, Mr. Danziger? With Devon's help, the Terrians have turned hundreds of children into mutants." He shook his head, wearing a look of complete revulsion. "Kids popping in and out of the ground, speaking a bunch of gibberish to each other that no one can understand, worshipping piles of dirt and calling it their Mother. Yesterday, Jeb Astor's daughter showed up at the house carrying a staff that shot some kind of lightning beam. She almost set the living room on fire."

Devon's voice cut in, "Oscar has failed to mention that his son has The Syndrome and he has continually refused to allow the Terrians to cure him."

Now it was Danziger's turn to look repulsed. "How can you do that to your kid?" he asked with a creased brow. "Don't you want him to have a normal, healthy life?"

"Those kids aren't healthy. And they certainly aren't normal," Taggert proclaimed bitterly. "I'd rather see Max dead than have him end up as one of those freaks of nature."

"If you don't change your mind soon, you'll probably get your wish," Devon said as she rose to her feet and rounded her desk to stand next to the colonist. "Please, Oscar, I'm begging you to reconsider," she implored, her tone suddenly filled with emotion. "Whatever you may think of me, put that aside and think about what's best for your child. Please let the Terrians help him."

Taggert's eyes fell to the floor and his face displayed both anguish and heartbreak as he obviously considered the graveness of his son's condition. And for a few fleeting seconds, Devon harbored a glimmer of hope that her pleas had finally gotten through to him. But then Taggert's features rehardened and he crossed his arms in defiance, letting Devon know that yet another battle had been lost.

Taggert's words may have been directed at Devon, but his sights were set on the mechanic. "So, has anyone bothered to tell Mr. Danziger here just how lucky he is?" he said glibly, his condescension back in full force. "I mean, after all, what were the chances of him needing a bio-stat chip and one just happening to become available?"

His voice took on a ruthless tone. "Of course, it was still in my wife at the time, but you took care of that, didn't you, Devon? Yes, Mr. Danziger was very fortunate to have you looking out for him. Very fortunate, indeed."

Devon was visibly unsettled, not just because of the newest path of the conversation, but because John was there to witness it. Why couldn't he have listened to her and waited out in the reception area like she'd asked?

She took a deep breath. "We've been through this many times, Oscar," she said as calmly as possible. "Cryogenics is far from a perfect science and everyone, including your family, knew the risks of being placed in cold-sleep for that long a period of time." She let out a dispirited sigh. "That being said, I am truly sorry for your loss."

Taggert's eyes were still centered on Danziger, not wanting to miss his reaction to anything that was said. "Your deeply heartfelt sympathies are just as touching as ever, Devon," he jeered. "But let's not forget that my loss was your-- or should I say Mr. Danziger's-- gain, wasn't it?"

His tone became venomous. "Did you all celebrate when you found Victoria dead in her cryotube, hmm? How long did you wait before you cut up her cadaver into little pieces, taking what you wanted and then tossing away the rest like she was garbage?"

He turned toward Devon. "To you, she was nothing more than a means to an end; a piece of meat for you to butcher in order to raise your low-class boytoy from the dead. Did you honestly think that my dearly departed wife would have ever agreed to be a doner for a Drone? And even if she had, you must have known that I would never have permitted such a thing, which I can only assume was the reason why I was never consulted in the matter."

Devon looked as though she was going to be physically ill. "You're disgusting."

"I am what you made me, Devon. A widower raising a dying son," he retorted.

John could see how much Devon was shaken up by the exchange. And, truth be told, John was plenty disturbed by it as well. Until then, he'd never really given much thought as to where his implant had come from. Frankly, he'd just assumed that one had been manufactured from spare parts found on the Jamestown. Putting a human face on it and hearing about the tragedy which had led to his eventual cure suddenly made him feel more than a little sick to his stomach. But sending his discomfort level into overdrive was Taggert's outrageous allegations that Devon and the others had acted callously on his behalf or, even worse, had somehow had a part in facilitating Taggert's wife's death in order to bring him back. Enough was enough.

Danziger took a large pace forward to loom over the colonist. "This meeting's over, Taggert. Time for you to leave," he declared in a low growl.

The smaller man wasn't intimidated in the least and had no problem flaunting it. Although he was technically looking up to Danziger, Taggert still managed to let everyone in the room know that he was looking down on him at the same time.

"I must say that I'm impressed, Mr. Danziger," he said dryly. "May I call you John?"

"No," Danziger answered just as dryly.

Not only did Taggert not flinch, his mouth twisted itself into a perfectly manufactured smile. "Well, Mr. Danziger, as I was saying. I'm quite impressed at what you've managed to accomplish in the short time that you've been on this planet, particularly for a man of your-- how should I put it-- humble background."

He cast a long, brazen look in Devon's direction before returning his eyes to John. "You must feel like you've hit the lottery."

Danziger took the another imposing stride forward to further disrupt Taggert's personal space. "I'm pretty damn close to hitting somethin'," he stated icily.

Taggert was unaffected by the thinly veiled threat and made no attempt to move from his spot. He did, however, turn his head to the side slightly toward Devon.

"You might want to think about putting a leash on your new pet," he told her, almost off-handedly.

"Get out," she replied in a guttural voice.

John didn't waste any time and leaned in until he and Oscar were nose to nose. "Out," he snarled through clenched teeth. "Now."

Taggert was certain to wait a few moments before finally taking two steps backward. He returned his attention to his jacket, restraightening it and fussily flicking away a small piece of lint that had become attached to the fabric. He rotated to Devon, his expression and voice echoing the contempt he felt for the both of them.

"Enjoy your power, Devon, because it isn't going to last forever. You've already made some pretty foolish mistakes." He paused and let out an unamused laugh. "And choosing to shack up with your Drone lover hasn't exactly won you any new friends either."

After observing the look of shock that flashed across Danziger's face at his words, Taggert turned his attention back to Devon, unable to resist adding one last taunt as he sauntered toward the exit. "One day, this house of cards that you've built for yourself is going to crash to the ground," he said as he swung open the door. "And when it falls, I can assure you that I won't be the only person taking great pleasure in it."

Thoroughly pleased with himself and not wanting to ruin the moment by waiting for Devon or Danziger to reply, Taggert gave them a final, triumphant nod and breezed out of the office. Yale and Anna both wore surprised expressions as Oscar passed by them. Yale hadn't been sure about what the outcome would be by sending John in to see Devon and Taggert by himself. Ideally, he had hoped that Danziger would have made verbal mincemeat of Taggert and that the man would have slinked away with his tail firmly positioned between his legs. But, judging by Taggert's unyielding appearance, that obviously hadn't happened. Oh well, Yale thought, at least John has now seen first-hand some of the problems that Devon is forced to deal with on a day to day basis.

Danziger shook his head and traded an indescribable look with Yale before reshutting the door and turning back to Devon. He knew that the last thing she needed right now was to feel ganged up on, so he tried his best to hide his aggravation.

"Why did you let Taggert talk to you like that?"

Devon reseated herself behind her desk and tried to look interested in a stack of pending contracts in front of her. "He's grief-stricken," she answered plainly.

John made his way back to Devon's side of the room and sat down in one of the two chairs facing her work station. "He's a slimeball. I'm very sorry about his wife, but, obviously, you had nothing to do with her death. And it certainly doesn't give him the right to treat you that way," he declared, amazed that Devon could dismiss Taggert's accusations so easily. What the hell was wrong with this woman?

She exhaled an exhausted sigh and remet his gaze. "What do you want, Danziger?" she said, more harshly than she'd intended.

John paused as he considered his response. :::I want things to be the way that they used to be between us. I want to be your friend, again. I want you to trust me and accept me as an equal like before. I want you to let me into your life like you were starting to do before we were separated from each other. And, most of all, I want you to stop treating me like a virtual stranger and shanking talk to me, goddammit!:::

"I want a job," Danziger ended up saying, realizing that now probably wasn't the best time to corner her on where they stood with one another.

Devon blinked several times. "That's not a good idea."

Danziger arched backwards in surprise. "Why not?"

"You're still recovering from your surgery. Right now, you should be relaxing and concentrating on getting your strength back."

Danziger would have been encouraged by her words of concern, had they not been delivered in such a stiff tone. "My strength IS back. Most of it anyway," he insisted. Not that you would have noticed this since you've been avoiding me like I have a contagious disease, he added in his mind.

Devon remained less than receptive to his suggestion, prompting John to add, "C'mon, Adair, idle hands are the devil's workshop." He surged forward in his chair. "There's gotta be something for me to do around here. Stick me in the Engineering Department or let me work in one of the biospheres. Or send me on some scouting missions. Hell, I'll even help the Diggers, if you want."

Devon gave him an odd look, not just because he'd just expressed a willingness to work with the Terrians, but because she hadn't heard the creatures referred to as 'Diggers' for several years. John had been the only person who had used that derogatory term. She disliked the word just as much now as she did back then.

John was undeterred by her peculiar expression. "I'll tell you what. Yale told me that there's a cafeteria right down the street. Why don't we head over there and discuss this over lunch," he suggested. And, although he didn't dare say it, he'd also hoped that, once they'd started talking and she felt more comfortable, he'd finally be able to broach a few other subjects and get some much-needed answers to his questions as well. He only possessed so much patience and he was already well beyond his limit.

"I don't take a meal break," she replied, shaking her head.

"Fine. Then, I'll go grab us a quick bite to eat, and we can talk this out right here."

Devon broke eye contact and reburied her head in her paperwork. "I'm really busy right now."

Normally, Danziger would have been discouraged by Devon's brush-off. But, as he examined her slender frame, there was a different issue that became more concerning to him. His eyes narrowed and he slanted his head to get a better look at her.

"When's the last time you ate something?" he asked, his voice taking on a caring, fatherly tone, almost as if he was talking to True.

Devon raised her eyes back to him, caught off-guard by the question. "I, uh-" she stammered, struggling to answer.

"Well, if you can't remember, then it's been too long," the mechanic proclaimed with a self-assured nod. He slapped both of his hands on his thighs and sprang to his feet. "I'll be back in a few minutes with-"

His words were interrupted by the sound of the door opening behind him. He craned his neck around to view Anna and Yale standing in the threshold, both of them displaying expressions of sorrow.

Devon stood up and braced herself. "What's happened?"

Anna swallowed hard. "Dr. Heller just called. Sarah Van Horten passed away a few minutes ago."

Devon bowed her head and closed her eyes as she took in the news of yet another senseless loss of a Syndrome child. After a few moments, she let out a shuddering breath and straightened back up. "Call Julia back and tell her that I'm on my way. Then cancel my appointments for the rest of the afternoon."

"I'll go with you," John offered as Devon passed by him on her way out of the office.

"So will I," Yale chimed in.

She didn't slow her pace as she headed for the corridor. "No," she said, her voice faltering a bit. "I have to do this alone."

Even after Devon had disappeared down the stairwell at the end of the hallway, John, Yale and Anna continued to stare after her, a complex mixture of emotions written on their faces. As much as they wanted to follow Devon, the trio silently agreed with one another that they would respect her wishes and remain behind.

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