Colony 1: Coastline, Chapter I, by DarkBeta
(I have no rights to the Sentinel or its characters. Nevertheless i'm taking them out to play . . . a long, long way from home. Also, the Kambai Tree People here are unrelated ethnically, culturally or linguistically to any other people of similar name. [I made them up. How was I to know Blair wasn't doing the same?] This first chapter is a boring list of names and relations. If you can slog thru it, i think the next one will be better. [kowtows abjectly])
[Cascade WA, New Year's Day 1999]
Holidays were no holiday for the police. Three years as an observer had taught Blair Sandburg that much. The whole of Major Crimes was on duty for New Year's Eve.
Even Rhonda had come in, and the department secretary had a better chance than the detectives of getting out of overtime.
Captain Banks was trying to schedule substitute personnel. His son Darryl had fallen asleep on the office couch while waiting for a ride home, so Simon's usual roar was muted.
Taggert, Brown, Rafe and Connor had been drafted to answer phones. Jim was supposed to be doing the same. Instead he and the head of Forensics stood in a corner arguing whether the dried blood on a victim's shoes was the result of his stabbing (Serena's version) or his work in a slaughterhouse (Jim's version). Jim couldn't explain that he smelled the difference between bovine and human blood, so he was reduced to conviction by volume.
Blair had tried to calm them down. When Dan Wolf tracked his boss upstairs, Blair let him take a turn at intervention. A four-year-old with a Mulan bookbag lurked behind the coroner, sucking the thumb of one hand while the other clutched Dan's (blessedly unstained) white coat. Blair crouched down to her level.
"Hi, honey. You look ready for a nap."
She stared at him from almond eyes.
"Let me check with your mother, okay? Hey, Serena; is it okay if your kid lies down by Jim's desk for a bit?"
"Oh, Kimi precious, I'm sorry. Your father is going to be so mad at me. We'll go home in just a minute . . . right after this idiot admits he's theorizing in advance of his data."
"Come on, honey. Rafe will loan us his duster to make a tent. You can pretend you're camping, while your mom scolds Detective Idiot."
Jim glared. Rafe, tied to the phone, made a belated snatch as Blair whisked his duster away. Kimi looked at her mother, and then transferred her little grip to Blair's hand.
She stayed on her feet just long enough for him to make up his jacket and a spare blanket into a bed. Hung from the corner of the desk, Rafe's duster closed out some of the glare and noise. Blair sat in Jim's chair, close enough to hear if the child woke up confused.
He was taking notes on the department's interactions under stress, including the reactions of his actual subject . . . .
"I feel nostalgic. Listening to Jim yell really brings back old times."
Blair looked up from his scribbling as a blonde leaned against the desk.
"Hey, Caroline! Great to see you again! What are you doing here? How long are you staying? How's San Francisco? Need any tips on what to see? Naomi and I stayed with some guys on the Haight for a while. Have you had time to check out Golden Gate Park yet? Great museums, and . . . ."
"Slow down, kid. I just wanted to go over some business with Jim. He wasn't at the loft, and his cell was out of service, but I thought he'd probably be here. He always worked holidays before we were married"
"Uh, well, he kind of pulled double shifts. His cell phone landed in the harbor when he did yesterday, only it didn't survive the dunking."
Jim didn't show any signs of hypothermia when he climbed out of the freezing water, but some pollutant had sent him into a sensory spike. He couldn't dial down again until Blair dragged him to the showers and got him into a spare pair of sweats.
Blair meant to send a couple vials of harbor water off for chemical analysis. A trace toxin might not affect the general population as noticeably, but that didn't mean it had no effects at all.
Caroline smiled.
"The front desk told me about Jim's bust on the docks. Sounds like he could make Policeman of the Year again."
Jim's hunch (according to the official report, which Blair had just finished writing) had led to some two hundred illegal immigrants packed in a couple of cargo ship containers. Most of them were young women brought over for prostitution. Major Crimes had netted three of the smugglers, including the very unhappy man Jim pulled out of the harbor, and had a line on the rest of the ring.
The girls would survive the low night temperatures better in Cascade's holding cells, than they would have locked in an unheated container on the dock.
"So why are you still here?" Caroline asked. "As an observer, you don't need to stick around with everyone else."
Blair wasn't going to let Jim out of his sight until he was sure the effects of the harbor water were gone. Jim's ex-wife didn't need to know that.
"Don't jinx me, man! If I start the New Year lying around sleeping, the whole rest of the year will be a total bore," he obfuscated. "The first day of the year is ceremonial. It has psychic resonance!"
"Then you should be out partying with friends . . . a girlfriend."
Blair suspected Caroline was a little uneasy about the relationship between her ex-husband and a long-haired grad student with an earring. She didn't want to find out Jim had decided to appreciate the other side of the street.
"Been there, done that, got shot down big time. All indications are, this isn't going to be my year for romance."
He yawned.
"Oops. Sorry. Been a long day."
"Which is why you should be home in bed, honey. Rest is so important to keeping the chi in balance."
A redheaded woman held the corridor door open for a man in a wheelchair. The woman looked far too cheerful for the late hour. Blair gaped.
"Naomi? How did you get here? Where did you meet Professor Kelso?"
"I hitched a ride up from Santa Cruz with a botanicals supplier who dropped me off at Rainier. Jack was working late. He gave me a ride over to meet you."
"At two in the morning?"
"We were talking. Jack has an old soul. I'm sure we've met before."
Blair glared at Jack. The distinguished professor . . . smirked. Naomi smiled at Caroline.
"You have a remarkably metallic aura, almost a well-shielded as Blair's housemate. My name's Naomi, Naomi Sandburg if you go by patronymic."
"Caroline Plummer," Caroline said flatly.
"Good to see you again, Naomi."
Jim appeared at Blair's side. His look down and up made it clear his courtesy was literal. Naomi smiled. Jack snorted. Caroline became even frostier. Blair moved his elbow sharply.
"So what brings you back to Cascade?" Jim continued, unobtrusively rubbing his bruised arm.
"I was at a ley line retreat in Sedona -- you should try it, Jim; very cleansing for those bearing a heavy karmic burden -- and you'll never guess who was scheduled for the hot sand baths with me! Remember Charlie Spring? The psychic?"
She moved forward smoothly and took Jim's arm before he could step back.
"He had a hit on Blair, and you too. On your whole department. You all made quite an impression on him. We didn't understand the symbolic substance (and I'm usually good at that) so we decided I should let you know . . . ."
Jim mouthed a plea for aid. Blair grinned evilly, and then turned the expression on Kelso.
"Optimism and enthusiasm seem to be family traits," Jack said.
"Naomi doesn't let people bring her down very often. 'Detach with love', you know. Just in case, do you prefer mummification or urn burial?"
Behind Kelso the door opened again. Blair looked up.
"Whoops! Careful there!"
As the door swung closed, two over-filled grocery bags lost their equilibrium. Blair grabbed one as it tipped past 45 degrees. A short dark woman managed to retrieve the other and lower it to the floor. She looked up, biting her lip.
"Aline, what a great surprise!" Blair told her. "Look, Joel's still on the phone. I'll get someone to help you with that second bag. Ji--!"
He ran into Jim's chest as he swung around. Without hesitation Blair handed over the first bag.
"I'll take care of this stuff, Aline. You go wish someone special a happy New Year."
The woman nodded and shuffled into the room, keeping her head down. Blair stooped
for the second bag.
"Who is she?" Jim muttered. "She looks familiar . . . but I was checking mug sheets this afternoon."
"Shhh! She'll hear you. I can't believe you don't recognize her, Jim. You work with these guys!"
Across the room, Joel Taggert hung up the phone.
"Lin! I thought I wouldn't see you until I got home."
"You had to leave the potluck so early, and we had a lot of food left over . . . ."
"Jim, I brought some documents you need to look over for the property settlement . . . ."
". . . light moving among the stars is a planet, a wandering star, which had to be Blair since he's always been a traveler, eager to move on to the next experience," Naomi told Kelso, Brown, and Rafe. "We're not sure about the bright flare. Though Blair has always been a spiritually radiant person . . . ."
Brown frowned.
"Yeah, or it could be a bomb. Maybe we should get Taggert in on this."
"Blair, Aline says you have to try the lentil fritters," Joel called. "She used your recipe."
Jim handed the pen back to Caroline.
"Lawyers," he snorted. "We've been sending documents back and forth longer than we were married in the first place."
She dropped the property bill into her briefcase and batted her eyelashes at him.
"Was it good for you too?"
He laughed.
"I miss you, Caro. Come on, and I'll treat you to New Year's dinner . . . the best the snack machine can offer."
"Oh, the romance of it all. How did I ever let you get away?"
The office door slammed open again. Most of the cops turned to look. Jim's casual shuffle put him in front of Caroline. Brown put a hand on his weapon. (Since the Sunshine Patriots, some officers kept their guns close even inside the department.) A line of Asian girls filed in, shepherded by two stern-faced female uniforms.
"Officers Hill and Jiminez," the black woman said. "Family Services can't find anyone to take all the juvies until the office opens, day after tomorrow. Petrelli downstairs says, you guys found 'em, so you're stuck with them."
Her jaw dropped as a girl wiggled from the center of the covey and leaped into Blair's arms. He fell backward. The girl wailed strange fluting words. The door to the captain's office slammed open.
"What's going on out here?" Banks roared.
"Hi, Simon. Uh, business as usual?" Blair suggested from the floor.
"Yet another female making a bee-line for the kid," Brown complained. "What's he got, and why hasn't he bottled it for his friends?"
Officer Jiminez glared at Blair.
"Ay! How does she know you?"
"I met Jilcu during my stay with the Kambai tree people, Aricela. I don't like this. How did she end up in that shipping container?"
"Aricela?" the other officer hissed, as Blair sang back to the girl. "Something happening on the romance front you didn't tell me?"
"We just talked," Aricela said, blushing.
"I never did like Family Services," Naomi told a wide-faced girl in a poison-green rayon dress that ended at mid-thigh. "Blair and I had trouble with them."
The girl said something bewildered in Chinese. Naomi smiled at her.
"Don't worry, dear. Blair's friends are a little too overtly rationalist masculine, if you know what I mean, but their hearts are in the right place. Everything works out the way it should."
Unexpectedly, the girl smiled back.
Blair managed to lurch up to his feet, even with Jilcu clamped onto him. She wailed a long descant.
"I won't let the bone ghosts take you, I promise. Er, ath sutuku pa. Gesh wan."
He pried one of his arms free, and touched his lips and his forehead. Jilcu let herself be placed on her feet, but kept both hands clamped to Blair's shirt.
Most of the girls wore a teeshirt and shorts, or a short dress, with bright cloth slippers. A few were barefoot. They had backed against the wall beside the door. Three or four of the smallest were sobbing.
"They're shocky." Jim told Simon. "Where are the emergency blankets?"
Rafe dug into a dusty box at the back of the supply closet. The girls flinched away from him, so Megan and the two officers passed out army surplus wool and shiny rustling survival blankets. In the break room Rhonda brewed up a pailful of hot milky tea with lots of sugar packets, and distributed paper coffee cups. Joel and Aline spread the left-overs she'd brought on his desk: chips, onion and spinach dips, lentil fritters with tahini, teriyaki meat balls, pigs-in-a-blanket . . . .
"Don't say it!" Jim warned, as Blair opened his mouth.
Blair scribbled a quick picture of a cow and a pig instead, standing them behind the meat balls and the sausages.
"The only food taboo all the Kambai have is lemur, and Jilcu is monkey sept so she's fine, but if the others are Muslim or Hindu or something we don't want to add to their stress. Jilcu, t'peri pe? Do you want some of this?"
The girl in a green dress spoke firmly. Eight of the girls followed her, to line up behind Jilcu. Watching to be sure the looming adults didn't protest, others straggled after her.
Everyone got a few bites on a paper plate, at least. They ate kneeling on the carpet, stabbing at the food with bright plastic party pics. One of the girls tried to use two pics together as chopsticks, and sobbed helplessly when they wouldn't work.
Rhonda squatted next to the crying girl and showed her a doll and a trio of yellow and red beanbags. Blair sat down too, and Jilcu curled up with a firm grip on his shirt. He made a grab for the beanbags.
"Rhonda, you've been holding out on the office."
"I'm going over to my sister's this afternoon, but her kids have enough toys."
Blair started to juggle, badly. Every time he dropped one of the bags somebody giggled.
When he reached for the third bag and dropped all of them, the girl who giggled was the one who'd been crying. He made a mock-indignant face, and tossed them to her. Two more of the smallest girls joined in, tossing the bean bags in a circle. Blair managed to edge back.
"Time for dessert," Brown decided. "Anybody got change for the candy machine? I'm taking up a collection."
"Hot chocolate, with extra sugar," Blair decided. "It always made me feel better."
"You were so cute bouncing off the ceiling!" Naomi agreed.
"I've got a tin of organic shade grown cocoa . . . ."
Serena came back into the room with an evidence bag full of snacks. Blair was grinning as he delved into his pack.
Maybe the superstition he'd made up for Caroline was valid. The year would continue the way it began, chaotic and argumentative, full of family and friends and fascinating strangers. He and Jim would go on making a difference in the world. He couldn't think of anything better.
Hundreds of childhood farewells should have taught him better. Light like an explosion blazed along the corridor outside. The door opened, or vanished. The silhouette there was impossible to see but too small, too narrow too out of proportion. Blair put his hands out.
"Stop. Go away. We do not consent."
The light stopped. Jim saw his guide silhouetted, holding strangeness back, as if mind and will could make it comprehensible.
Then it flooded in. He saw his nightmares, and he could not move, could not keep Sandburg from being pulled away, nor help any of those he heard screaming, as the light covered and froze and carried him also.
At the very back of a bottom drawer of Rhonda's file cabinet, a package left by the janitor ticked to itself. Forty-two minutes later, its explosion destroyed three floors of the police headquarters. No-one died on any of the other floors. The Sunshine Patriots claimed responsibility.
Always cramped for work space, Rainier cleaned out Blair's office two days after the tragedy. His Sentinel research ended up in the recycling bin. Men in black suits showed up a day after that, but they went away empty-handed.
Until the day he died, Charlie Spring wore a turquoise and royal-blue friendship bracelet with Naomi's name on it.