The Tribes, Chapter 31

Daniel rushed to where Gull had fallen on his face and eagerly rolled the Enforcer’s body onto its back. He couldn’t wait to spit into the bastard’s face – and that was just the start of the indignities that he wanted to heap on the Enforcer leader. The spit dried in Daniel’s mouth as Gull’s eyes snapped open revealing staring, cold eyes above lips stretched in a rictus-like grin. Daniel fell back screaming a warning that Gull was awake causing a frantic scramble among most of the others.

“Relax, relax, everyone – it’s okay,” Jack called. “The tranquilizers have blocked all of their voluntary muscles.” Jack boldly strode over to Gull and lifted the Enforcer’s hand limp arm and let it flop lifelessly to the ground. “See? There’s not a thing any of them can do right now … um, you might want to turn their heads to one side, they’ll all tend to drool.”

“Guess it wouldn’t do to let them drown on their own drool,” Ryan observed wryly. “Okay, once we get that done, let’s get them stripped out of their robes and strapped down.”

While Ryan took charge of getting everyone organized, Jack knelt by Gull’s side and busied himself with inserting an IV catheter into a vein in the Enforcer leader’s forearm. He taped the IV line down securely and started a slow saline drip.

“What’s that for?” Ryan asked coming up to begin attaching the bindings to Gull’s limbs.

“I wanna keep him drugged and totally out of it,” Jack explained without offering any further explanation. Ryan didn’t bother to press Jack, knowing that the diminutive genius wouldn’t provide any answers until he was ready to share and that pressing Jack would only make him uncomfortable.

“We are about ready to move the prisoners out of here,” Lars said as he crouched next to Jack and Ryan. “I’ve had an idea I’d like to run by you…”

“What’s up?”

“Have you thought about … um, well for lack of a better word … sanitizing this area?” Jack and Ryan exchanged confused looks and Lars hurried to explain. “It is only a matter of time before The Leader sends out a search team to find out what happened here.”

“Probably sooner than later,” Ryan said.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Lars replied. “When the search team finally arrives and finds the median like it is now…”

“They’ll know right away that there was foul play here,” Ryan finished. “And, they’ll probably either start a search right then and there or send back for reinforcements.”

“But, imagine their confusion when they find absolutely no sign that neither Gull and his party nor the Werewolves ever arrived here.” Lars looked around with a mischievous grin on his face. “And, I imagine the news will tend to unhinge The Leader a little more than he was before.”

“Every little bit helps the cause,” Jack grinned back. “Once we get these guys squared away on transport, take whoever you need to get the job done.”

By the time all of the prisoners had been loaded onto the trucks, Lars was well into drumming up help to accomplish his plan. Aside from Lee and Ryan who were left to guard the prisoners, everyone pitched in and removed all traces that anyone had been in the area. Even the grass was carefully raked by hand and with tree branches to remove all traces that anyone had even crossed over the ground at any time in the last week to ten days.

At the Farm, Jack agreed to stop only long enough to drop off Lee and Ben. He insisted on returning to the Queen Mary as soon as possible. He uncharacteristically rode in the back of the truck monitoring all of the sedated prisoners, but paying special attention to Gull. Twice he even administered additional sedatives to keep the Enforcer unconscious. When the trucks reached the ship, Ryan discovered why Jack almost never rode in the back of a vehicle – Jack’s complexion had a decidedly green cast and Ryan realized that Jack was prone to motion sickness. Jack quickly jumped from the back of the truck and moved a few feet away taking long slow deep breaths. It took him about ten minutes before his color returned to almost normal.

“Dal knows where to take the others,” Jack explained as the first of the Brothers were carried off of the trucks. “I’ll see to Gull personally. He’s going to be kept segregated from the others.”

“What’s going on with that?” Ryan asked curiously.

Jack shook his head. “Don’t ask yet,” he said cryptically. “I’m not sure I’m ready to explain it all, yet. Hell, I don’t even know if I’m sure I understand everything I’m thinking about trying yet.”

Ryan just clapped Jack on the shoulder and helped bring Gull to the ship’s hospital. He made a point of leaving before actually seeing where Jack planned to bring the Enforcer for his secret confinement. He didn’t have any idea of what Jack was up to and didn’t really care to know until Jack himself felt comfortable explaining his plans. Ryan trusted Jack implicitly and that was good enough for him. Jack’s plan had taken Gull out of circulation without a single good guy being placed in danger, and that was another point in the plus column as far as Ryan was concerned, too. If Jack had some kind of plan for Gull, Ryan was convinced that it had to benefit the Shiprats in the long run and Ryan was willing to wait until Jack was ready to let everyone in on it.

*****

The Leader paced the luxurious office that Gull maintained in the old YMCA building. His Chief Enforcer had been gone for five days already and he was so impatient for Gull’s return that he made one of his rare ventures from his hotel headquarters. The door opened and an Enforcer named Burke entered the room with a subservient bow.

“What news do you have for us?” The Leader demanded.

“I’m afraid that so far we have no news, Leader,” Burke reported nervously. “But it’s possible that Lord Gull and his team are further than one day out which is the range of our patrols at the moment.”

“Yes, yes that’s probable,” The Leader agreed reluctantly. “Still, we would prefer to have Gull’s counsel close to hand.” The Leader paced the room before taking a seat behind Gull’s desk. “Order a search party of Seekers to leave immediately and meet Lord Gull’s team,” he snapped offhandedly. “We want our people escorted back with all speed and diligence possible.” He glanced languidly around the room while Burke hurried to relay the newest orders. Burke returned to find The Leader carefully examining a large dry erase board on the far side of the room.

“That is one of Gull’s latest projects,” Burke explained trying to keep all trace of nervousness from his voice. The Leader was mercurial in the way he responded to new and unexplained projects.

“Uh huh … so we see,” The Leader grunted. “It appears to be lists of names.”

“Exactly, my lord. Lord Gull has been listing the troop strength of the Brotherhood by number and name,” Burke explained, beginning to warm up to the subject. “He’s got other lists broken down even farther according to training, skills, and special abilities for each of the Divisions in the Brotherhood.”

The Leader spun around in surprise, his flowing auburn hair whipping across his face. “There are more of these? Where? We want to see them.”

“This way, Leader.”

Burke felt strange guiding the Leader and his bodyguard through the dimly lit corridors of the YMCA. Enforcers and slaves going about their normal duties snapped to shocked and frightened attention when they saw the unusual entourage marching swiftly through the building. Reaching one of the large lecture halls, Burke flung open the door and stepped aside to allow The Leader to enter the room.

The Leader strode into the middle of the room and slowly turned around to stare in amazement at the large number of boards covered with neat, precise handwriting. Each board was color coded to coordinate with a particular Division. White for the Soldier Division, was naturally, the largest Division. The Leader gravitated naturally to the White boards and studied them carefully, running his index finger down the neat columns of names. He noticed that each squad was comprised of a squad leader and nine soldiers and that five squads made up a company. Working his way through the rosters, The Leader came to a final tally of slightly over seven hundred Brothers at his command. Every member of every Division was accurately represented by name and, where applicable, job skills or title.

“We are impressed,” The Leader finally announced in quite admiration. “We see that Our Brothers are listed here,” The Leader said tapping one of the boards. “But, we don’t see any records of out slaves.”

“Ah, those!” Burke led The Leader to another classroom. “The slaves are listed here on the blackboards with the rest of the supplies and provisions. They, of course, have no status as Brothers or even members of our organization…”

“Precisely, precisely,” The Leader nodded. “The slaves are objects and rightly should be listed among the provisions. “All of this – the listings of the stocks and stores, the provisions, slaves, and Brothers – Lord Gull must have had a compelling reason for everything.”

Burke’s eyes grew round as he tried to mask his fright. “I ah, um … yes, Lord Gull did seem to have a purpose for all of this work, Leader. But, um…”

The Leader patted Burke’s face. “We understand exactly,” he said in a friendly, understanding voice. “Lord Gull is rightly the one to explain his work here. It would be presumptive of you to even attempt to step in for someone so clearly your superior. We will be eager to hear all of Lord Gull’s explanations of his project at the appropriate time.”

Nodding benignly to everyone in the room, The Leader wandered from the classroom and made his way back to Gull’s office. Burke hung around the office offering The Leader refreshments or the use of a slave for relaxation and in general doing his best to win favor with The Leader. He eventually hemmed and hawed his way from the room after accepting the fact that his offers were falling on deaf ears. The Leader sat serenely at Gull’s desk for nearly twenty minutes before beginning a thorough search of the office. His efforts were eventually rewarded with several binders of meticulous notes in Gull’s neat, small handwriting. Taking the binders back to the desk, The Leader began a thorough study of Gull’s notes.

Darkness had fallen outside by the time The Leader pushed back from the desk for the first time. The binders were far more comprehensive and inclusive than he could have ever imagined – Gull had clearly studied every aspect of Brotherhood life and written it all down with particular emphasis to codifying nearly every pronouncement The Leader had ever made on every subject.

Once Ryan had left him, Jack rolled Gull’s stretcher into a small private room that he had already prepared. With Selene’s help, Jack transferred Gull to a surgical treatment bed and securely strapped the Enforcer down making sure that the bonds were secure enough to prevent any movement at all while not constricting blood flow. Selene inserted a Foley catheter while Jack set up two slow drip IV pumps to administer the drug cocktail that he had devised for Gull’s special treatment.

“Can you let me in on your plan, Jack?”

“I have to,” he said with a sad smile. He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his orange-red hair. “Look, I don’t even know that this will work. The truth is that I might actually do nothing more than fry his brain and not get anything out of this stunt.”

“This sounds pretty scary.”

“Yeah, it is. Even to me,” Jack admitted. He carefully fitted padded earphones over Gull’s ears and then taped several layers of surgical gauze pads over the Enforcer’s eyes. “I wish I had a sensory deprivation tank, but this will have to do.” He touched one of the IV pumps. “This will deliver a sedative just strong enough to keep Gull on the very edge of consciousness – at least, that’s the idea”

“And the other one?”

“That’s delivering psychotropic drugs,” Jack said. “If everything works like it says in the literature I’ve been able to access – and that’s not the most entirely reliable material I’ve been able to come across, I’ve gotta admit…”

“So what purpose…”

“The purpose is to get into his head and get everything out of it,” Jack said. Selene noticed that as usual when Jack was getting excited by one of his special projects that his voice began to crack as he stammered and paced nervously back and forth. “Imagine being able to know everything about the inner workings of the Brotherhood and there’s more … what if we can put our own ideas into his head?”

“What do you mean – like brainwash him?”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Jack admitted. “But, if it works it’ll be more like a total reprogramming of Gull’s brain – at least that’s how I hope it can work.”

“Okay … and if it works, what do you hope to accomplish, Jack?” Selene asked.

“I hope we can use Gull like a virus among the Brotherhood to make it collapse from within,” Jack said.

“So you plan to return Gull to the Brotherhood?”

Jack nodded. “If the plan works.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then Gull won’t be going back,” Jack said softly. “Why not you ask?” Jack’s smile was sadder than Selene had ever seen. “If the plan doesn’t work Gull won’t exist – he’ll be nothing more than a body with a burned out brain. He’ll be able to breathe and sustain his life functions – at least I think he will – but, that’s about it.”

Selene stared down at Gull’s naked body on the table amazed at the conflicting emotions she felt tumbling through her mind. Laying on the table was one of the most dangerous, evil, despised people in the entire new world, a young man who delighted in inflicting the depraved, painful tortures on other people. Selene wasn’t at all surprised at the revulsion that she felt facing the demon. As far as she was concerned, Gull deserved to be punished and punished severely for all of his crimes – but she had always assumed that when Gull was eventually punished, the punishment would be in some traditional, accepted manner. She even thought that Jack’s plan if it worked was a magnificent method of poetic justice.

And then, the thought of what would happen to Gull if Jack’s plan failed. He’d just cease to exist as a person without ever knowing that he was being punished or why he was being punished. He’d never even be forced to face his terrible deeds. He’d just cease to exist as a person and Selene was amazed at how terrible that thought was.

Jack was able to read her thoughts and he took her hands in his. “You have no responsibility in this at all,” he said fervently. “I need you only as a nurse – not even as one of our ship’s doctors and you’re one of our best. Everything else is on me – I know that the consequences are potentially terrible. If you’re not comfortable helping, I understand that and accept it. I just ask that you don’t tell anyone else what is happening until I’m ready. That’s all I ask.”

Selene pulled away from Jack and stood over Gull’s still form staring down at his face. Even with his eyes covered with the two-inch wide surgical squares, Selene could see that the lines in his face were etched with cruelty. “He’s evil, isn’t he?”

Jack nodded. “About as evil as they come – maybe in his own way as evil or even more evil than The Leader is.” He saw the shock on Selene’s face. “I think The Leader is truly psychopathic at this point and really doesn’t understand that what he does is necessarily wrong, but him,” Jack pointed down at Gull. “He does what he does because he likes it. He knows that what he’s doing is wrong and he revels in it. He thrives on the power he gets from scaring everyone around him. And as for the torture and pain that he inflicts – that’s the ultimate power trip for him. Oh yeah, he’s evil all right.”

Selene sighed. “That’s it then – if your plan can make him a tool to undo or even undermine the Brotherhood slightly, it’s worth a shot. But, I’m with you all the way as a full partner in this – that’s the only way I’ll help you with this.”

“No….”

“Shut up, Jack!” Selene snapped. “Where I come from there’s this saying about the yoke being easy and the burden light when two minds unite. We both agree that something needs to be done and neither one of us want to put our friends at risk, so this plan of yours is worth a shot. If it works – we’ll have accomplished something great.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“We’ve still done something good,” Selene said. “Gull will never be able to harm anyone again and we’ll have robbed The Leader of a valuable tool that will take him a long time to replace.” She stroked Gull’s cheek. “That won’t be full justice for this bastard, but maybe nothing else would be a full measure of justice and it’s as good as we can get.” She took Jack’s face in her hands and gave him a reassuring smile. “We do this together – that’s the only way to do it without becoming him in the process.”

Jack leaned forward and kissed Selene’s cheek. “Thank you for believing in me and trusting me,” he whispered tearfully. He gave her a quick hug and then pushed away. “Well, we’ve got a lot to get done and you’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

Jack led Selene over to the laptop computer he had set up on the other side of the room and opened the files he had stored on the hard disc. He explained the broad strokes of the idea.

“Under ideal circumstances,” Jack explained, “we’d have scads of time in which to work on Gull. If that were the case, we’d have about a seventy-five percent chance of success.” Jack sighed. “Unfortunately, we only have about five days at best.”

“Why set a time limit on yourself?”

“Think it over, the longer Gull is missing the more that he’s going to have to explain and that means he’s going to have to do some serious thinking. The more he has to think up answers, the more likely he’s going to remember something that we don’t want him to remember.”

*****

Dal, looking uncomfortable and nervous, was waiting for Jack when he finally showed up in the waiting area of the ship’s hospital. “Um, there’s a meeting up in the Lounge,” Dal said softly. “I’m supposed to take you up there right away.”

“What’s it about?”

Dal’s expression grew even more uncomfortable. “I’m not exactly sure,” he lied, trying to evade the question from his friend.

“I’m sure you know the general topic,” Jack said.

“Generally … um … generally, I think it’s about … him,” Dal inclined his head towards the closed door to Gull’s room.

Jack stepped into the corridor and pointedly looked around. “Shouldn’t you have some guards or something to make sure I came along peacefully?”

“It’s not like that, Jack!” Dal protested near tears.

Jack’s stare bored directly into Dal’s soul. “Tell them I’ll be along in a little while,” he said softly. “I need to check in on Bray.”

Dal swallowed. “Bray’s up there at the meeting,” he said in a guilty voice. “Bubba, too.”

Jack looked like he’d been slapped in the face as the color drained from his cheeks. “Go back to the meeting and tell them I’ll be along shortly,” he said curtly. “I won’t be long and they won’t need to send anyone out to get me. I have a couple of things I want to finish up before I come along.”

“Jack … don’t be like this,” Dal said holding out his hand.

“I’ll be there soon,” Jack said, ignoring Dal’s hand. “I’ve never lied to you before, so believe me when I say that I have some things to finish up and then I’ll be along.” He didn’t wait for Dal to answer before turning abruptly and heading for the medical office.

Brandon paced the carpet of the Lounge, his growing agitation evident. “I thought you said he’d be along shortly,” he said turning on Dal. Brandon looked around the room at the others gathered. Dal and Amber sat together with Heather on the large sofa. Bray sat slumped in the big leather wing chair where Brandon and Morgan placed him after carrying him up from his sickbed. Lars and Tai San stood a little apart from the others, silent and inscrutable. Bubba and Alice took up most of the loveseat in front of the fireplace. Ryan hovered behind Lars and Tai San clearly not wanting to be in the room.

“He did,” Dal replied, his dark face flushing even darker. “Maybe this meeting isn’t such a good idea … it did seem like I was down there to arrest him or something.”

“Jack wouldn’t think that,” Tai San said gently.

“You didn’t see his face,” Dal protested. “He looked like I kicked him in the gut.”

“We’ve had Gull prisoner since yesterday,” Brandon retorted. “Have any of us been able to question him? Huh? Every time me or someone else asks Jack about a trial and punishment for all the shit Gull’s done, Jack just turns a deaf ear – hell, he won’t even say where he’s got that bastard stashed. That bastard has been here for a whole fucking day and he’s in a secret private room getting treated like some guest of honor or something. We need to know what up!”

“Calm down, Brand,” Bray said weakly. “We all know that Jack’s eccentric sometimes … I know he’s got some plan in mind. The thing is, until Jack has all the particulars of a plan worked out he doesn’t like to spill anything about it.”

“You’re right, Bray,” Heather said. “But, this isn’t like him not wanting to get our hopes up because he’s come up with a new way to generate electricity or get something working again. This is more important.”

“All the more reason to let Jack get his plan worked out until he’s comfortable with talking about it,” Bray insisted.

“Gull has to pay for all the shit he’s done,” Bubba said hotly. “It’s time he faced justice.”

“Right,” Morgan said. “Justice delayed is justice denied.”

“Maybe someone should check to make sure he’s still on the ship,” Brandon said to the room in general.

“Jack said he’d be here and he will,” Bray said firmly.

Dal retreated to Amber’s side as everyone in the room began arguing their points hotly. She took his hand in hers and stroked it soothingly, her heart going out to him. She could understand how he felt, but like the others thought that Gull needed to be treated harshly as quickly as possible. All argument fell silent as the knob turned and Jack stepped into the room.

“I apologize for making you wait so long,” Jack said stiffly as he took a spot in the center of the room.

“It’s okay, Jack,” Tai San said. “We just want to ask you some questions.”

“So ask.”

“When are you gonna turn Gull over to us?” Brandon demanded angrily, moving towards Jack to physically intimidate him with his larger size and mass.

“I don’t plan to,” Jack said.

“What the fuck do you mean?” Brandon shouted.

“I mean just that,” Jack said firmly. “I don’t plan to turn him over to you or anyone else just so you can beat the crap out of him.”

Brandon grabbed a handful of Jack’s shirt. “Don’t think we can’t take him away,” he snarled as Lars and Ryan jumped up to pull him back.

“There’s something that you need to remember, Brandon,” Jack said coldly. Dal’s blood ran cold at the dangerous tone in Jack’s voice. “I’m the one who put you back together. I know better than anyone – even you – what your physical weaknesses are. You lay hands on me again and I’ll make sure that you’ll never forget it.”

“Everyone just calm down,” Bray called. “Brandon, I realize that you’re upset and emotional, but that’s no excuse for getting physical. Just calm down,” he repeated as he fell back against the cushions of the wing chair feeling weak and worn out.

Brandon shook off Lars and Ryan, his hands pointing to his scarred face and missing ear. “That fucking bastard did this to me!” He screamed. “He cut off my balls and killed Jordan. He’s gotta pay! I have a right to have a chance to make him pay – or at least watch him suffer for what’s he done.”

“Brandon’s right,” Morgan said. “He’s got to pay for his crimes.”

“He sent those Werewolves here,” Bubba cried. “They killed my babies! You didn’t hear them screaming when those bastards ripped them apart.”

“You’re right, I didn’t,” Jack said, his voice even colder than before. “But I’m the one who found them, cleaned the blood from them and wrapped them up and buried them.” He turned to face Brandon. “And, I’m the one who did everything I could to put you back together. I’m sorry that I don’t have the skills to fix those terrible scars … but don’t forget that I was able to put your knee back together so that you wouldn’t be a cripple.”

“It’s okay, Jack,” Bray said. “I know that you understand how Gull’s presence could make everyone get emotional. Things have already been said that shouldn’t have been said … nobody meant anything personal.”

“Of course they did,” Jack countered. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be in front of this tribunal.”

“It is not a tribunal, Jack,” Tai San said. “You’re not on trial here…”

“Of course I am,” Jack retorted. “Take a good look around at the expressions on your faces. Most of you have already decided that you’re going to pass judgment on someone tonight – if it can’t be Gull, then it might as well be me. Because you’ve all convinced yourselves that I’m protecting him from the justice he so richly deserves.”

“You do seem to have forgotten Gull’s crimes, Jack,” Morgan pointed out.

“There’s no way I can ever forget all of the things he’s done. You all seem to have forgotten that I’m the one who had to treat every person tortured by the Brotherhood. I’m the one who saw firsthand the terrible things that Gull and his kind did to people. I’m the one who sat by their bedsides holding their hands, changing their bandages, and cleaning them when they shit, pissed, and puked all over themselves.” He shook his head in disbelief. “How could any of you for one second believe that I don’t think Gull should be required to pay for the horrible things that he’s done or had done? I know better than any of you what his crimes are and how the people he’s hurt have suffered and continue to suffer!”

“Then how can you protect him?” Brandon cried.

Jack snorted. “I’m not protecting HIM,” he said. “I’m protecting you and me and all of us from becoming him and all the people like him. You actually think I haven’t fantasized about taking a hammer and smashing every joint in his body?” He laughed – a cruel, mirthless laugh that frightened Bray. “Oh, you can’t imagine the tortures I’ve imagined for him and the Leader – wouldn’t it be so satisfying to tie each of his limbs to four jeeps and slowly rip his body apart while he screamed? Oh yeah, I thought of all those things and more even darker, nastier things that could be done to him.” Jack shook his head, a look of loathing marring his usually innocent features. “Oh, you can’t begin to imagine all of the things I’ve imagined doing to each of them.”

Bray almost recoiled at the look on Jack’s face. He’d never seen the young man he loved so deeply have such a look of loathing on his face.

“I’d have thought that I’d earned some trust among you – but, obviously I haven’t,” jack said softly in a voice near to tears. He blinked very rapidly and opened his mouth as if to speak, then shook his head. “Oh, what’s the use? You’ll find Gull in the Chief Steward’s room,” he said in defeat and turned for the door. “Do what you want with him, I won’t stop you.” Bray noticed that Jack seemed to have a problem turning the door knob. And, then he was gone.

The silence that fell over the room was thunderous.

“Well, that certainly went well,” Bray observed bitterly. He tried to stand to go after Jack. He winced and gasped as a bolt of pain shot through his leg.

“Easy, Bray, easy,” Dal said, jumping up and guiding Bray back into a sitting position in the chair. “You’ll rip those stitches out and that won’t do you or Jack or anyone else any good.” He looked up at Ryan. “Ryan could you do me a favor and ask Jack to come back here?”

Ryan nodded with confidence. “Sure, I can do that,” he said. “And, if he won’t come back willingly, I’ll carry him back here.”

*****

Ryan searched the hospital after not finding Jack in his stateroom, the diminutive genius wasn’t in either location. Then, he remembered what Jack had said about the Chief Steward’s cabin and made his way there. He found Selene carefully monitoring the unconscious Gull, but no Jack.

“Where’s Jack?”

“The last I saw of him when he left to attend that mysterious meeting,” Selene explained. Ryan’s face paled. “What happened? Did something go wrong up there?”

“Only everything,” Ryan complained. “Almost as soon as Jack came into the room everything went to shit and people started accusing him of protecting Gull. As if!”

“Jack’s not trying to protect Gull,” Selene cried angrily. “He’s trying to turn brainwash Gull into giving us all of The Leader’s secrets and turn him into some kind of double-agent to sew dissention among the ranks of the Brotherhood.” She quickly explained Jack’s plan and the drawbacks it entailed.

“So either this brainwashing works…”

“Or it turns Gull into a brain dead vegetable,” Selene finished. “And Jack didn’t want anybody to have that on the consciences.”

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit,” Ryan slammed the heel of his hand into his forehead. “I’m so stupid sometimes.”

“Ryan, you’re scaring me,” said Selene in a frightened voice. “Where’s Jack? What happened?”

“I shoulda known what he was up to,” Ryan cried bitterly. “He suddenly gave up and said that it didn’t matter anymore and left the room. I thought he’d come down here.”

“You mean that you can’t find him?”

“He’s not anywhere I looked,” Ryan said miserably. “I checked his stateroom, the hospital, and then I remembered that he said that Gull was down here … so I came here and expected to find him.”

Ryan reported back to the Lounge that Jack was missing. “I hope that you’re satisfied,” he snarled at Brandon who went suddenly pale. He explained what Jack’s plan had been and how he was trying to keep the other members of the Tribe from sharing in the terrible responsibility of perhaps turning another human being into a living vegetable.

“I never meant …” Brandon stammered. “He misunderstood what I meant.”

“He’s got to be found,” Bray cried. “He’s got to be found and brought back right away.”

Ryan checked his watch. “He’s had about an hour to get away. He could be anywhere.” He rounded on Brandon again. “This is all your fault!”

Tai San stepped into the middle of the room. “All this negative energy is counter-productive and we’re not going to accomplish anything by fighting among ourselves – that would just play into The Leader’s plans.” She turned to Ryan. “Do we know for sure that Jack has left the ship?”

“Uh no, not for sure,” Ryan answered. “When I didn’t find him in any of the places I expected to find him … I just thought that he’d left it.”

“He might have,” agreed Tai San. “Then again, he might have wanted to be alone with his thoughts … this has been a stressful time for him. He’s been through a lot lately … being attacked and nearly dying, the attack on our people …”

“I’ll search the ship,” Lars said. “I’ll get Keith and a couple of others to help me.” Without waiting for anyone to answer him, Lars left the room.

“Uh, I’ll get started on searching the area around the ship,” Ryan offered.

“Maybe you should take one of the vehicles and search The City,” Amber suggested softly. She turned to the others in the room hopefully. “Is there anyplace he might go to be alone with his thoughts? Is there anyplace special to him?”

“Not to change the subject or anything, but, do any of you really believe this brainwashing thing has any chance of success?”

“Look around you,” Dal said quietly. “Do you believe your own eyes? Everything that you see around you is because Jack dreamed of it. He dreamed of getting the Queen Mary’s generators up and running again, he dreamed about the Marketplace. It all exists because Jack dared to take a chance on a hunch of his.” Dal looked hard at Brandon. “Do you really have to ask if Jack could succeed in brainwashing Gull?” Dal slowly nodded his head. “On the whole, I’d say yes … yes, it’s very possible that Jack is probably right once again.”

*****

When Jack had left the Lounge, he hadn’t really planned to abandon the Tribe – at least not without Bray. But, he was really convinced that Brandon and the others were going to take revenge on Gull and he didn’t want to be around for that. After all, he did believe that whatever happened to Gull the Enforcer Leader deserved it, but that didn’t mean he’d have to stick around and watch it. He supposed that he was being a coward by leaving the ship, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel very guilty about that.

He really had no idea of where to go once he left the Lounge – he just knew that he wanted to put as much distance between himself the ship as possible. He had no conscious memory of going down the gangway, but suddenly he was standing beside the two-seater go-cart that he and Sasha used to take on their scrounging forays. Looking down at the go-cart, he suddenly remembered Sasha telling him about a place to the south of The City where the desert came almost to the edge of the ocean.

“It’s hard to tell where the desert ends and the beach begins,” Sasha had told him. “There’s this bluff overlooking the sand dunes and I guess that’s where the one ends and the other begins. Anyway, when I was wandering, every time I passed through the area, I’d be sure to stop and wait on the top of the bluff for sunrise.” Sasha had paused, a look of peace on his cute face. “It must look like the world did on Day One with the first sunrise.” He shrugged. “At least that’s what I always told myself and it never failed to make me feel good about the world.”

Jack wanted that feeling for himself. He needed his innate the goodness of his fellow Man renewed and if there was any spot on the earth where that could happen, he figured it was there. Without thinking any further, he climbed into the go-cart and headed off to the south to find Sasha’s special place.

*****

Ryan had a sick look on his face as Dal joined him at the bottom of the gangway. “There’s a go-cart missing,” Ryan said glumly. “He’s had enough of a head start to be anywhere.”

“I can’t imagine that he’d just leave Bray and not come back,” Dal said. “I’m sure he’s just gone somewhere to calm down.” Dal gave a worried look up at the big farm boy as he followed Ryan to the Land Rover that Ryan had selected for the search. “At least I hope he’s going to calm down.”

Ryan paused as he was climbing behind the wheel. There was something Dal wasn’t saying that felt ominous to him. “Dal, what’s the matter?”

“Probably nothing … I’m probably reading too much into things,” Dal hedged.

“But …” prodded Ryan.

“But did you notice how Jack had a problem getting the door open when he left?”

“So? He was probably just upset.”

“I hope that’s all it is,” Dal said uncertainly. “But, it could be something more serious …”

“Like what?”

“Well, his head injury was more serious than anyone thinks,” Dal explained hesitantly. “It’s entirely possible that he’s got some residual brain damage. He’s been dropping things … all things he’s had in his left hand and only in his left hand.”

“So?”

“So,” Dal explained patiently, “Jack’s injury was to the right side of his head and the right side of a person’s brain controls the functions of the left side of his body.”

“Are you saying that Jack might be really sick?”

“That’s just it,” Dal complained. “I don’t know … and I don’t know where to look for that information to make an accurate diagnosis. The trouble is that I don’t understand the medical stuff when I try to read it from books – well, not all of it anyway. Jack always reads the books and medical material and explains it to the rest of us.”

“Well, we’d better stop wasting time and get looking for him,” Ryan said sliding behind the wheel and starting the Land Rover’s powerful motor. Dal had just slid into the passenger seat when Brandon appeared pounding on the window.

“Open up,” Brandon called. “I’m coming with you.”

“Uh uh, no way,” Ryan shouted.

“Look, I’m not about to beg you … but, I will,” Brandon pleaded. “I went off half cocked and said and did things back there that I didn’t really mean. I have to make it right by trying to help find Jack.”

Ryan looked from Brandon to Dal who just shrugged. “He has a point,” Dal said. “He should have a chance to make things right … at least in his own mind.”

“Oh, what the hell,” grumbled Ryan as he slammed the Rover into park. “Get in, get in and hurry it up.”

Jack raced through the darkness mindless of the fact that he wasn’t wearing a helmet. He felt like being daring and living life on the edge for a little while. He deliberately pushed his foot down even farther increasing the go-cart’s speed. Driving along with the wind whipping through his short orange-red hair, Jack realized that he didn’t even know exactly where this bluff Sasha had been talking about was located. He shrugged as a tiny smile flickered across his lips for the first time in longer than he could remember – he decided that he’d recognize the place by how it made him feel.

*****

Henry Drummond trudged along the desert sands without breaking the steady pace he’d set for himself and his three companions. With luck they should find the Pacific Ocean shortly after daybreak. He decided that they’d rest there for the day and enjoy the cool breeze that was sure to be blowing off the water. He didn’t break stride as he glanced up to check the position of the North Star and get a bearing. He adjusted their course slightly to keep then headed slightly north of true west.

“Lawrence,” came the plaintive wail from Jimmy Buntz. “how much further do we have to go? My legs are getting tired.”

Henry smiled at the use of his nickname – he hardly ever thought of himself by his old pre-Virus name anymore. People had started calling him Lawrence after Lawrence of Arabia because of the burnoose he had adopted as attire. He didn’t mind – T.E. Lawrence was his personal hero. The real Lawrence of Arabia had been a slightly built man of medium height, not the towering two-fisted adventurer packing a revolver on his hip. Like Lawrence, Henry quickly discovered the benefits of wearing the traditional Arab burnoose. The loose, flowing pants and shirt encouraged the sweat to evaporate, thus cooling the body in the desert heat. The voluminous robes provided warmth in the often frigid desert nights. The ample headdress – made up of yards of material could form a makeshift tent to provide shade where there was none in the desert. All-in-all, Henry had come to actually prefer his nickname to his old name.

Like the original Lawrence, Henry had been a student interested in history and archeology. When the Virus had struck he had been in Mexico on a dig with his parents. They had decided to stay at the dig site in the hopes of riding the Virus out. It had worked – briefly. They gained an extra four weeks together before first his father and then his mother started showing symptoms of the Virus. Soon all of the adults and most of the children on the dig had come down with the disease. Soon, the only ones left were Henry and Eric Montrose. They stayed on at the dig campsite for another month before deciding to leave and see who – if anyone had been left in the disease’s wake.

It wasn’t long before they had come across Jimmy Buntz and the strange New World the Virus had created. They found the world was now composed of Tribes trying to scrape by on the little bits that were left of the Old World. Jimmy and his family had fled San Francisco’s crowded streets for Mexico. They clearly hoped a change of locale would save them. It didn’t and Jimmy fell prey to one of the Tribes that had sprung up. The fourteen year-old had soon found himself a slave to one of the Mexican Tribes.

By the time Henry and Eric came across Jimmy, they had already begun building a reputation that demanded they be treated with respect. Henry privately thought a lot of that reputation was due to the fact that he wore the Dig Manager’s old .45 caliber revolver slung prominently around his waist. Eric insisted the respect was due more to Henry’s natural charisma. Whatever the cause, Henry found he had little difficulty convincing the Mexican Tribe leader to sell Jimmy to him. In fact, Juan seemed relieved to be rid of the blond-haired Gringo. He claimed that Jimmy ate too much of their meager provisions and performed too little work. Henry shrugged, keeping his right hand near the well-worn butt of the heavy revolver. The truth was that he had never had the need to even pull the revolver on another human being, but he had decided that he could and would if the situation warranted it. Juan didn’t need to know that Henry – or Lawrence as he was already being called – planned to free Jimmy the minute they were out of sight of the Mexican Tribe. Juan managed to get a dozen cans of Spam and four D cell batteries for the blond slave.

“Just a little further, Jimmy,” Lawrence called over his shoulder. “We’ll stop and take five minutes once we cover another mile.” Lawrence smiled to himself. He almost never stopped immediately. He found that if he made the small group that had begun following him go the extra mile, they would increase their efforts to and their wanderings seemed to go faster.

After walking an additional ten minutes, Lawrence turned and called for a break, telling his band to get some rest and have a drink of water. Seamus Flaherty sank gratefully to the ground and pulled out his canteen. After slowly drinking, Seamus pulled off his headdress, exposing a mop of unruly red curls and wiped his face. Originally from Boston, Seamus’ story was similar to Jimmy’s. His parents had fled the crowded Northeast United States in the futile hopes of avoiding the Virus. They quickly learned that the Virus seemed to spread faster in more primitive and remote locations. Two weeks after fleeing Boston they both contracted the Virus and were dead within days.

Seamus had simply appeared at the campsite where Lawrence, Eric, and the freed Jimmy were just scooping out platefuls of beans. Eric silently handed over his plate to the newcomer and filled his mug with beans. There had been little discussion about whether to accept Seamus into the loosely-formed Tribe. The only discussions that took place centered around where the best place to find the newcomer his own camp utensils was.

*****

Ryan drove wildly down the rutted lane to The Farm without a care for how much he bounced the others around. Brandon was all over the back seat and once Dal was nearly bounced right out the open passenger window. Ryan ignored the shouted warnings from the other two and concentrated on keeping the Rover kind of in the middle of the lane while at the same time jamming his hand down on the horn.

Three figures appeared out of the darkness, each armed with a deadly-looking machete. Luke, lowered his hand and the farmyard was suddenly illuminated by the floodlights that Jack and Dal had installed.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll climb out of that vehicle slowly and keep your hands in the open,” Luke bellowed.

“Luke, Luke,” Dal shouted, “get a grip, man. It’s us – Ryan, Dal, and Brandon from the ship.” Dal climbed carefully out of the Rover. “Jack’s gone missing – has he been here?”

“What happened?” Lucy called from the back porch, her voice shrill from panic.

Dal quickly filled the Farm Tribe in on the events of the night, finishing with, “So, we thought that Jack might have come out here to cool off and get his thoughts together.”

“He hasn’t been here at all,” Luke said, while Lucy bustled around getting a pot of fresh coffee perking.

“We didn’t know where else to look,” Dal said. “He took a go-cart and so naturally we thought he’d head out this way.”

“Yeah,” Ryan chimed in helpfully. “He’s always sayin’ how relaxin’ it is here and all.” He realized that he was babbling and gave a weak bob of his head. “Well … so, we decided to give this place a check for him.”

“Well, we should be moving along,” Dal said edging towards the door.

“Not so fast!” Lucy snapped. “I won’t have you leaving this farm with your bellies grumbling. Sit and eat,” she pointed at the chairs around the table. “I mean SIT NOW!” She began banging cast iron skillets around as she hauled thick slabs of breakfast pork and bacon from the refrigerator “While you’re eating your breakfast, I’ll fix a basket for you to carry along with you.”

Lucy placed plates of fried eggs, ham, bacon, and hash browns on the table and followed them with a huge platter of toast. Ryan dug into the food with an appetite and shook his head in wonder. “If you ask me, I woulda swore Jack would be here. It’s so peaceful and relaxing …” he dipped his toast in the egg yolks and stuffed the dripping bread into his mouth. “This is the kind of place I’d come to recharge my batteries.”

Across the room Ben’s head jerked up. “Maybe he went to that place Sasha was always talking about.”

Dal was instantly alert. “What place?”

Ben shook his head. “I don’t know exactly … but it’s between here – well, The City actually and old San Diego. Sasha said that there was a place where the desert and ocean met. I remember him talkin’ about it and it made me feel kinda special.”

Dal banged his fists on the table. “That’s it, then. We’ll start looking for him there … if the place was special to Sasha we’ve got a good chance of finding Jack there.”

“At least we got as good a chance as any that we had before,” Brandon pointed out. “So, what are we waiting for?” He began to rise from the table.

“You can just sit your ass back down,” Lucy commanded. “The three of you ain’t leaving here half fed. You have time to each eat another helping before the food I’m doing for the road is ready and you’re NOT leaving before I’ve got it all packed up.”

*****

“Why’re we leaving Mexico?” Jimmy asked Lawrence for the hundredth time.

Lawrence smiled down at the teen. “I’ve already told you about a hundred times over,” he grinned. “I think you’re just trying to stall for a longer rest.”

“I wouldn’t blame him for that,” Seamus mumbled, as he rubbed at his feet.

Lawrence sighed and gave a good-natured chuckle. “Well, for one we’re leaving Mexico because it’s getting too restless down there. Too many Tribes fighting each other over water holes instead of cooperating and sharing.” He squatted down so that he could be eye level with the others. “But, the real reason that we’re going to The City is to see if the all the stories about the Tribe on the Queen Mary are even half true.” Lawrence sighed deeply and shook his head in wonder. “Because, if they’re only half true it’s gotta be a goddamn paradise on Earth – or as near to it as we’re likely to see.”

“D’ya really think those slavers were telling the truth?” Eric asked.

Lawrence shrugged. “They had nothing to gain by lying to us,” he pointed out. “If they’d been planning on setting a trap for us, they would have sprung it long before now.” He stood abruptly. “No, if anything they were probably exaggerating about how good it was. But, I still have to see for myself. And, now my young friend – you’ve dragged out our rest period long enough. We’re not getting any closer to our goal.”

“And the goal for today is?” Eric asked.

“To get out of the desert and reach the ocean,” Lawrence replied. “After that we’ll see how we feel.” He turned and started out again. “Coming?”

*****

As soon as Jack reached the bluff, he knew that he’d found the place Sasha had been talking about. Even in the darkness that surrounded him, he knew this was Sasha’s special place. He had about an hour’s wait until dawn, but even in the dark he could clearly hear the pounding of the surf on the rocks and sand below him. He could even faintly hear the sound of the sea lions nesting on the rocks at the water’s edge. He parked the go-cart and walked to the top of the bluff – this was no place for machines.

Reaching the ridge of the bluff, Jack realized that it was freezing and he still had a long wait for dawn when the sun would begin warming the air. He searched around for driftwood and dry grasses and built himself a small fire pit in the sand. Once he had the fire going, Jack sat down in the damp sand and wrapped his thin arms around his knees and waited. After about ten or fifteen minutes, Jack began to shiver and wished that he hadn’t hurried away from the ship so fast – he hadn’t even stopped to pick up a sweater, jacket, or even a sweatshirt. He suddenly remembered one of Bray’s standing orders – all of the vehicles had to be equipped with an emergency rations kit. Jack hoped that the order extended to the go-carts.

He scrambled down the bluff to the go-cart and almost cried with joy when he found the emergency supply kit strapped to the back of the cart. Someone (probably Ryan or Dal) had adapted a large Craftsman steel toolbox for use as an emergency provisions box. He opened the steel tool box and discovered an enameled camping coffee pot, tin plates, enameled coffee mugs, tins of condensed milk, sugar, flatware, a pound of coffee, tinned meats, powdered eggs, and a couple of gallons of drinking water. He managed to get the large box to the top of the bluff by half carrying it and half dragging it.

Once he was back at the fire, he set about making himself a hearty breakfast. Soon the pre-dawn air was thick with the aroma of frying eggs and corned beef mingling with the odor of fresh coffee brewing. The scents reached the sea lion colony down on the beach and a few of the more curious animals awoke and advanced a short way toward the bluff giving half hopeful barks.

*****

Lawrence and his friends had been walking for nearly two hours after their last break when Lawrence suddenly stopped. In the distance he could clearly hear the surf and the excited barking of the sea lions. He turned and looked to the east – the sky was just beginning to turn a bright rose color. Along the very edge of the horizon he could see a thin sliver of gold trying to rise into the sky. He grinned broadly – they had reached the Pacific Ocean just before dawn. His announcement that they had reached the ocean was greeted with screams of unbridled joy as Jimmy and Seamus took off racing each other to see who would be the first to charge into the surf.

Lawrence laughed heartily as he watched the other two sprinting off into the darkness, their burnooses billowing out around them like giant wings. He stopped laughing and his hand automatically went to the butt of his revolver. The wind had changed direction and carried with it the smell of brewing coffee and frying meat. He scanned the horizon and caught the faint glow of a fire.

“There’s someone up on the bluff,” he warned Eric, pointing in the direction of the fire. “Go after those two and try to get them quiet.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Well, with the racket those two are making,” Lawrence said slowly. “I can’t imagine that whoever’s up there is oblivious to the fact that they’re no longer alone. So, the best thing for me to do is go up there and introduce myself.”

“Do you think that’s the smart thing to do?” Eric was clearly worried.

“Maybe it’s not the smart thing to do,” Lawrence admitted. He patted the heavy holster. “But, it’s the prudent thing to do now. If they’re friendly – there’s no harm done.”

“And, if they’re not?”

“Maybe I can bluff them into believing that we’re all packing guns,” Lawrence said grimly.

*****

After eating two helpings of corned beef and powdered eggs, Jack lingered over his second mug of coffee and watched as the dawn smeared the deep blues and purples of the night sky. Just as the undersides of the clouds started to turn a rich golden color, Jack became aware of two things – there were two young men running for the beach screaming and yelling to wake the dead. And, slightly off in the distance, there were two others bringing up the rear. Jack blinked and resisted the urge to rub his eyes – unless his eyes were playing tricks on him or he was hallucinating, all four were dressed in Arab fashion. They had flowing, billowing robes and headdresses.

Jack watched as one of the two behind the first two left his companion and ran after the first ones. Jack turned his attention to the fourth stranger and watched as he made straight for the bluff. Looking around for a weapon in case he needed to protect himself, Jack silently lifted the heavy survival knife from the emergency supply kit and slid it up under his shirt sleeve.

“Hello the camp!” The fourth stranger called, stopping a respectful distance away. “We smelled your coffee – do you mind some company?”

“Come on in,” Jack called in what he hoped was his most nonchalant voice. He watched the stranger approach apprehensively. Most of the stranger’s face was hidden under a mask that had been formed from his flowing headdress. When he was about a dozen yards away, the stranger reached up and lowered the mask before slipping the headdress off. Jack was surprised that the stranger had a mane of sun-bleached blond hair that was pushed straight back and fell casually in wings on either side of his face. “If you don’t mind my asking,” Jack said cautiously. “Who are you supposed to be – Lawrence of Arabia?”

The stranger regarded Jack with vivid blue eyes that were filled with amusement. “Actually, that’s what they call me. The name is actually Henry Drummond, but nowadays everybody calls me Lawrence. I’ll answer to either – if you’d be kind enough to share a mug of that coffee.”

“Oh, sure!” Jack hastily passed a spare mug over to the newcomer and offered him the can of condensed milk. “Milk?”

“You have milk?” Lawrence asked in honest surprise. “I haven’t had milk in my coffee since … since right after IT happened.”

“Help yourself,” Jack’s voice trailed off when he spotted the heavy revolver hanging from Lawrence’s waist.

Lawrence noticed the sudden silence and followed Jack’s shocked gaze. “Don’t let THAT concern you. It’s more for show than anything else. I swear I have no intentions of using it on you. I swear.” Lawrence offered Jack his friendliest smile.

Jack shook himself out of his shocked silence and suggested that Lawrence call his friends up to the camp. While he was waiting for the other three to climb the bluff, Jack made a show of opening three tins of corned beef and dumping them into the frying pan. “All I have in the way of eggs are powdered eggs,” he said apologetically.

“We haven’t had eggs in so long, those will seem like a feast,” Lawrence assured him. “We’re coming up out of Mexico on our way to The City.”

“What brings you so far from home?”

“That’s just it – we’re headed home, kind of,” Lawrence explained. “None of us are originally from Mexico and things are getting out of hand down there. The Tribes are fighting and killing each other over food – which is rapidly getting scarce and water, which is not quite as scarce.” The others joined them as Lawrence continued sharing their story. “Anyway, we heard that in The City there’s a Tribe that has created a kind of Utopia. They live on the old Queen Mary and are supposed to have electricity and running water.” Jack felt a shiver run down his spine. “Anyway, I’m sure the stories we heard were over-exaggerated.”

“No, no – they’re all true,” Jack assured him.

Jimmy and Eric almost dropped their plates in amazement. Seamus’ response was more direct. “Fuck me!” he exclaimed.

“It’s not a total Utopia,” Jack explained. “They have their problems, but they seem to work things out most of the time. Their Tribe is called The Shiprats.”

“Amazing!” Lawrence exclaimed. “Our little Tribe – such as it is – call ourselves the Desert Rats.” He looked at Jack. “What’s your role in the Tribe?”

Jack blushed and stammered. “Oh nothing special … I kind of tinker with this and that and fix the odd things that go wrong from time to time.” He pointed at the gun around Lawrence’s waist. “You won’t be able to keep that gun on you if you go visit the Queen Mary,” Jack said carefully.

“If The Shiprats are everything we’ve heard, then I won’t need it anymore,” Lawrence said reasonably. “I don’t really like it, to be honest with you. But, where we just came from it often meant the difference between life and death – just the sight of it made even the most dangerous Tribes treat us with respect.”

“I can understand that,” Jack said. Behind him he heard the sound of an engine racing along the sand. Turning he saw that the Land Rover from the ship was making straight for them. “Oh shit,” he groaned.

Lawrence was on his feet instantly, the heavy revolver appearing in his hand as if by magic. Behind him the Land Rover skidded to a stop in the sand and Ryan, Dal, and Brandon tumbled out of the vehicle.

“No! No, out that away,” he screamed at Lawrence. “Those people are the ones you’ve come to see – they’re Shiprats.”

“Jack! Thank God you’re safe,” Dal shouted. “Why’d you run off like that?”

“I – uh just had to be away from there, is all,” Jack replied evasively. He turned to Brandon. “Is it all over?”

“Nothing happened,” Brandon answered. “Ryan read us the riot act and then Selene gave us holy hell. She told us all about your plans – I’m sorry for not trusting you – I uh, shoulda known that you’d have a plan.” Brandon looked down at his feet in shame. “And, to tell you the truth just killing Gull would have been murder and we’d be no better than him and The Leader.” Brandon looked back up at Jack his face stained with tears. “I hope you can forget all the things I said – I’m more sorry than I can say.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, you’ll have me crying in a minute” Jack snarled, tears already running down his face.

“Uh Jack, I don’t mean to sound stupid, but just who the hell are these guys and why are they dressed like Lawrence of Arabia?” Ryan asked, effectively changing the subject and deflecting attention from the scene unfolding before them.

“Ryan, you are the least stupid man I know,” Jack said wiping his face dry. He made the introductions all the way around.

“Well Jack, what do you say?” Brandon asked. “Should we go back? Your new project – not that I really understand it – has been without you for too long now.”

Jack turned and looked at the Desert Rats. “Care for a lift the rest of the way? It sure beats the walk.”

Lawrence grinned, “I’ll bet it does and we’ve walked far enough.” He nodded. “Thanks, we’ll be glad to accept your hospitality.”

Dal rode with Jack in the go-cart on the way back to make more room in the Land Rover for the Desert Rats. In the Land Rover, Lawrence asked Ryan about Jack and his position in the Tribe. He had the idea that Jack had deliberately downplayed his role among the Shiprats. “What exactly is Jack’s role in the Tribe?” Lawrence asked.

“If you ask me, those two in the go-cart up there ARE the Tribe,” Ryan said, tilting his chin towards the windshield at the go-cart ahead of them. “If it weren’t for them – and especially Jack -- the Tribe as we know it wouldn’t exist.”

“He told us that he was just a fix-it man,” Eric said.

Brandon gave a sharp, bark-like laugh. “A fix-it man – is that what he said?” He laughed again. “Well, I guess that’s one way of putting it. He fixed me up when no one else could have. He saved my life after the Brotherhood left me for dead.”

“Jack designed the power source for generating an endless supply of electricity,” Ryan explained. “He designed the water purification system that supplies the ship with fresh water. He’s our chief doctor. Between him and Dal, there’s nothing that they couldn’t do. I really believe that, I do.” He gave Lawrence a hard look. “If Jack can dream it up, Dal can find a way to build it.”

*****

Silence filled the Land Rover as soon as the Queen Mary loomed into view in the distance. Even though it was early morning, scores of lights blazed all around the ship, smoke lazily dribbled from two of her funnels.

“Holy shit,” Lawrence gasped in awe, twisting his head around to stare through the windshield at the legendary liner.

“You ain’t seen nothing, yet,” Brandon promised. “Wait until we get closer and you can see the Marketplace. That’ll blow your fucking mind.” He gave a sniff. “And wait until you experience the hot showers in the cabins … pure fucking heaven.”

“And Jack claimed to be only a handyman,” Lawrence said in wonder.

“That’s probably the way he honestly sees himself,” Ryan said. “He’s a kind of quiet guy most of the time – doesn’t go around with a swelled head and thinking he’s all important. You’ll find that Jack is just Jack,” Ryan said simply.

When the Land Rover pulled into its assigned parking space, Lawrence clambered out and rushed up to Jack who was busy wiping down the go-cart. The Desert Rat leader removed the heavy revolver from his waist and held it out to Jack. “Do what you want with this,” he said. “I can’t imagine anyone else I’d trust more to do the right thing with it.”

News of Jack’s safe return spread quickly and he was soon surrounded with friends welcoming him back and scolding him for giving them such a fright. Selene alternated between giving him hugs and painfully slapping him. Amber wheeled Bray out in a wheelchair.

“Welcome home, lover,” Bray said with a grin. He wanted to give Jack hell for scaring him so much, but his happiness at seeing Jack back and safe was just too overwhelming. He settled for hugging Jack so hard that the small inventor begged for release so that he could catch his breath. Once the welcomes were completed, Jack introduced the Desert Rats to everyone.

“Ryan, could you get these guys someplace to stay?” Jack asked. “I think they might want to freshen up, so they’ll probably need towels and soap and stuff like that.”

“No problem,” Ryan answered. He motioned to the Desert Rats to follow him and he led them off into the ship.

Bray watched them go before turning to Jack. “I’ve been thinking about this plan of yours for Gull,” he began. “It might look suspicious to everyone if he turns up without any injuries.”

“I thought about that,” Jack said. “Before releasing him I can break one of his arms while he’s still sedated.”

Bray nodded. “That should work,” he agreed. “But, what I was thinking is that it would be helpful if Brandon and Bubba were given the chance to take a few shots at him – medically supervised, of course. A black eye or two, a coupla loose teeth, and some cracked ribs might go a long way to enhancing his story.” He examined the pained look on Jack’s face. “I wasn’t thinking about asking you to be present,” he said quickly.

“No, no you’re right,” Jack said. “Both Brandon and Bubba deserve to have their shot at Gull and even The Leader might ask questions if Gull suddenly turns up without bruises. You’re right, those are important details.” He sighed heavily. “I might as well start getting that arranged.”

*****

Two hours later Brandon, Bubba, and Keith stood shoulder to shoulder looking down at the unconscious Gull. Jack was explaining that they couldn’t hit him on the sides or top of his head. “There’s just too much risk of damaging his brain,” he explained. “Other than that, try not to actually break his ribs.”

“I’d like to rip his fucking balls right off,” Keith growled.

“Save that for later,” Jack replied. “We can’t give him any injuries which should have proved fatal if he was unconscious for about a week or so.”

“But can we punch him in the nuts?” Bubba asked, rubbing the knuckles of one of her massive hands.

“Sure, but not too hard and try not to crush them,” Jack warned.

“Great,” Bubba grinned. “Ladies first, she announced and moved forward swinging her hand in a precise uppercut to Gull’s unguarded groin. She looked disappointed. “It’s not very satisfying if he doesn’t scream and beg for mercy.” She shook her head and took a second shot to Gull’s balls. “But, beggars can’t be choosers.”

When his turn came Brandon was more deliberate. He moved in and took Gull’s limp hand in his own and methodically broke every finger before giving Gull two quick jabs to the mouth.

“My turn,” Keith said, edging Brandon to one side. He took deliberate aim at Gull’s nose and punched it as hard as he could twice. Once would have been enough – with the first blow, Gull’s nose released a fountain of blood. The second blow smashed the cartilage leaving Gull’s nose looking slightly flattened and pushed to one side. Keith then took aim for Gull’s right eye and sent his fist against the eye. He stepped back with a guilty look on his face. “You’re right,” he said to Bubba. “It’s not as satisfying when he can’t feel it – but, it’s better than nothing.”

Brandon stepped back up and gave three well-aimed blows to the Enforcer’s mouth. Gull’s lips split open and a lone tooth fell from his mouth. “That was for Jordan, you bastard,” he whispered. “I hope I broke your jaw.”

Late that afternoon Dal popped into Gull’s room and gasped at the sight of his battered and bloody face. There was a long gash above the Enforcer’s left eye which had bled freely covering Gull’s face in a mask of blood. There were ugly but superficial wounds to Gull’s shoulder and side.

“My God,” he said in shock. “Is this what they did to him?”

“Not all of it,” Jack said wearily. “I added the cuts after they were gone. It was a bitch to get him propped up so the blood would flow down his face as if he had been standing. The gashes here and here,” Jack touched each of the wounds in turn, “are supposed to make it look like Gull put up a valiant effort fighting off his attackers.” Jack carefully replaced the padded headphones over Gull’s ears.

“I suppose those things are feeding him his subliminal instructions,” Dal stated.

“That’s the idea,” Jack said. “I just don’t know whether they’ll work. The existing literature that I’ve been able to find is at best anecdotal – very little of it is purely scientific. I’d feel a whole lot better if there was hard science behind this scheme of mine.”

“If it works, it’ll save lives,” Dal pointed out. “The lives of our friends, I might add. If it doesn’t work – well, at least this bastard will have suffered some pain at last. Maybe not as much as he deserves, but it’s a start.” He looked down at Gull’s face. “What will he remember when he wakes up?”

“He’s supposed to remember an ambush and a fight for his life,” Jack replied. “That’s if I did everything right. He’ll remember being mistaken for dead and having his robe ripped off of him as a trophy. He’s supposed to remember waking up naked and battered later that night and crawling away for cover. After that, it’ll be a blank that he’ll have to fill in as best as he can.” Jack sighed. “We’ll just have to wait and see if the plan works.”

*****

Three days later Jack supervised Gull’s relocation to the woods near the original ambush site. Ryan carried the unconscious and bloody Enforcer over his shoulder like a sack of fertilizer and dumped him roughly on the ground at the spot Jack indicated.

“How much longer will he be unconscious?” Ryan asked.

“I figure he should be out for a couple of more hours,” Jack replied.

“Maybe some hungry animal will come along and start chewing on his ass,” Ryan said bitterly as he followed Jack back to where the Land Rover was parked.

It was dark when Gull started to stir. Each movement sent waves of pain through his body. He struggled to a sitting position, stifling the screams of agony that tried to escape his throat. He reached up and gingerly explored his face with trembling fingers before even more gingerly feeling his aching balls. He tried to remember what had happened and drew a blank. The last thing he clearly remembered was reaching the rendezvous point and not finding the Werewolves waiting for his party.

Gull struggled to his feet, whimpering with pain each time his movements caused a fresh wave of agony to flash through his body. He staggered from his hiding place … THAT’S IT! He suddenly remembered seeking a hiding place. He made his way through the woods on shaky feet and soon found himself at the rendezvous point. He stood swaying as he examined the ground for signs of the ambush that had taken place.

Ambush – he was remembering now. The memories came back in flashes and disjointed fragments. They had reached the rendezvous point and there had been an ambush. The Tribes from The City had been waiting for them. He vaguely remembered fighting and being stabbed. Soon he and his party were overrun – they were outnumbered. He had a fuzzy memory of fighting until he went down. He recalled being rolled over and a voice calling out “He’s dead!” Hands were pawing at his body, clutching at his robes as the ambushers stripped him and left his naked body for the bugs and animals to find.

Gull grinned, even though it hurt his mouth to do so. He had fooled them – he hadn’t been dead and the animals hadn’t gotten him. He turned and began the slow, painful process of returning to The Brotherhood. If he was lucky, he’d run across a Brotherhood scouting party and get them to help him return. If not, Gull’s painful grim widened causing his to gasp, he’d make his way back to The Leader’s side and his legend would grow. Either way, he decided, he came out a winner.

To be continued…