Summerlee's Lamentations

by challengerspet

A guilt-ridden Summerlee is Challenger's only hope of survival...can Roxton bring Summerlee back to his senses in time to save Challenger?

SUMMERLEE'S LAMENTATIONS

SUMMERLEE'S LAMENTATIONS

The long, hot day was nearly over. He seated himself at the table and read the medical book by the flickering light of the candle. Tomorrow would be an even longer day. By tomorrow he would have to know everything this book contained, something he wasn't certain he could do. As he turned the pages the events of the past several days replayed in his mind. He felt that there had to have been something he could have done differently; something he missed doing or something he did wrong. If he lived to be a hundred years old he felt he would never figure it out. He sadly shook his head and went back to his reading.

CRANIAL HEMATOMA. The two most common kinds of cranial hematomas are epidural and subdural. The word dural refers to the dura matter. Epidural hematoma occurs above the dura mater, between it and the skull. A heavy blow to the head that damages the upper surface of the dura matter most often causes it. Blood seeps into the surrounding tissue, forming a tumor-like mass or hematoma. Since the skull is rigid, the hematoma presses inward against the brain. If the pressure continues, the brain can be affected. An epidural hematoma is the result of rupture of a relatively large meningeal artery, so that there is a rapid leakage of blood, causing increased intracranial pressure that can be fatal in a short period of time.

"My God, what have I done?" Arthur Summerlee sighed and hung his head.

Arthur Summerlee and Professor George Challenger were in Challenger's lab working on his newest experiment. Summerlee had convinced Challenger to try mixing potassium chlorate and sucrose with Phosphorus to form a new compound to coat their meat before storing it in the stream to keep it fresh longer. Challenger, as usual, found it necessary to point out the flaw in Summerlee's plan.

"Arthur, you of all people know the compound should be insoluble in water, but the Phosphorus catches fire spontaneously in air."

"George, need I remind you that as long as we do not ignite the compound the chemical reaction between the ingredients will not cause an explosion."

"Arthur."Challenger began.

"George, please, I really resent your attitude. Always having to be right. Always voicing your opinion, no matter what anyone else thinks." Summerlee nearly shouted.

"Arthur, I was merely reminding you of your elementary chemistry."

"Fine then, George. Let's just get this finished, Veronica and Roxton should be back from hunting soon and I promised to cook whatever they bring back."

"That's fine with me, I am getting rather hungry."

The men went back to their chemical mixing when they heard music coming from the main room. Summerlee stopped his measuring to listen for a moment. He appeared to be somewhere else. Challenger grunted, irritated with his friend. Summerlee appeared to not hear a word.

His mind was occupied reliving his first waltz with Anna. He had been so young and awkward Anna was shy and retiring. Somehow, he'd gotten the courage to ask her mother for permission to dance with her, not realizing a waltz was next on the program. Her mother had smiled gently, and given her permission. They had glided around the room, he was sure that his feet had not touched the ground throughout the evening, he was lost looking into her beautiful eyes and sweet face.

"Arthur! You're going to burn down the treehouse if you leave that out in the air any longer!" Challenger lunged for the container that Summerlee had been adding chemicals into to dump it in a bucket of water.

Summerlee had turned away and was heading up the stairs to the main room. Challenger leaned over the table to grab the container when the mixture began to emit a blue-yellow smoke. Challenger stared wide-eyed at the smoke for a few seconds before he reacted.

"Arthur!" He shouted, "Run, leave the lab quickly!"

Challenger turned and grabbed something off the counter behind him. As he scooped up notes and shoved them in his bag, the powder on the table ignited. Sparks flew into the air and landed on some of Challenger's other experiments. A beaker broke from the intense heat, spraying its contents around the room, causing Challenger to flinch. Then more beakers and test tubes began popping and shattering. Falling embers ignited the contents of the table into an instant inferno. Challenger was still stuffing notes into his bag and had not noticed the flames reaching the hydrogen tanks in the corner.

As he began to turn to leave the lab Challenger saw the flames. He turned the other direction and began to run. The flames tore through the tanks like they were made of newspapers. Before he could think or even blink, the first tank exploded in a fireball of color, sparks, flames and embers. Challenger tried to duck as he watched in horror, seeing the entire outer wall of the lab blown out. Darkness surrounded him when the bookcase behind him toppled, spilling its contents on the scientist.

A large iridium ore rock that had been placed on one of the shelves fell, hitting him squarely on the back of the head, knocking him senseless. The flames rose higher, threatening to move into the rest of the treehouse. Upstairs, there was a flurry of activity as the explorers heard the explosions and rushed to see what caused it. Roxton and Veronica grabbed buckets of water and ran down the stairs. Summerlee just stood at the top of the stairs, looking down. Marguerite pushed past him as Roxton shoved his empty bucket into Summerlee's hands.

"Snap out of it Arthur. Fill these buckets as we pass them up," Roxton shouted.

Summerlee hobbled as quickly as he could and filled the buckets as fast as they handed them to him. Within a matter of minutes they had the fire out. Roxton was the first one to enter the lab. He stood staring at the gaping hole in the side of the treehouse. Summerlee limped down the stairs.

"George? Where is George?" He began sifting through the rubble.

"Challenger was in here?" Roxton asked.

"Yes, I left him here," Summerlee nearly whispered.

"Oh no, John, what if he was standing there?" Marguerite asked, pointing at the opening, "What if he."

"No, Marguerite, I refuse to believe that George was blown out of here." Roxton replied as he leaned out the hole, looking for their friend.

"Well, I don't see him on the ground, Marguerite, so I don't think he was blown out."

"Then where is he?"

"Let's start cleaning this mess up and we just might find him." Summerlee was already moving things around.

Everyone stopped what they were doing when they heard him gasp. Summerlee had just picked up a large book and under it, sticking up out of the rubble was a hand. Challenger's hand. The explorers frantically lifted the bookcase off of him and threw the books aside. Summerlee quickly checked him for injuries and when he found no broken bones they quickly moved him to the bed in his room.

"He has a very nasty bump on the back of his head," Summerlee announced.

"What can we do for him?" Marguerite asked.

"There really isn't much we can do. I need to read your father's medical books,

Veronica. I'm sure I can find something in them." Summerlee answered.

"Summerlee, that look on your face says you are not telling us everything."

"John, I don't want to make a diagnosis without knowing everything."

"What do you think it is?" Roxton questioned.

"By the looks of it I am thinking it could be a hematoma."

"What the bloody hell is that?"

"What that is, John, is trouble," Summerlee left to get the medical book he would need. The explorers hurried to accomplish the tasks Summerlee had given them.

Marguerite was boiling water to sterilize cloths and the medical instruments, just in case. Veronica and Roxton were busy cleaning up the lab and containing Challenger's many experiments. Summerlee was intently tending to Challenger, sitting by his side with a worried look that he attempted to hide any time anyone passed by to check on Challenger. When Roxton and Veronica finished, they both gravitated toward Challenger, hovering around the doorway to his room, wanting to help, but knowing that Summerlee was the best to check his pulse, respirations, and temperature. Marguerite joined them as they hovered and worried, her face a mirror of Veronica and Roxton's chagrin and worry.

Their fears were compounded the following morning by the fact that Challenger still had not wakened. Summerlee checked Challenger's pulse for the tenth time in as many minutes, then leaned back in his chair, his face pensive. He stared ahead at nothing, his mind wandering.

"Arthur," Roxton spoke softly jolting him back to reality.

"Yes, what is it?"

"If he only has a bump on the head, why isn't he awake yet? What is it that you do not want to tell us?" Roxton wanted to know.

"I'm afraid it is very bad news indeed, John. If I understand his symptoms correctly I am afraid George has an epidural hematoma. In simple terms there is bleeding between his brain and his skull. It is building up pressure and if that pressure is not alleviated soon he could die." The look on his face told Roxton more than the words he didn't understand.

"What worries me is having a sterile environment for what I have to do."

"What do you have to do?" Marguerite asked.

"I have to drill some very small holes in his skull to drain the blood."

"Ouch!" Marguerite shuddered.

"Well, if it's a sterile environment you need I'll see to it that you get one," Roxton replied as he rose and went to the main room.

Roxton and Marguerite spent most of the rest of the day super cleaning the main room, getting ready for the grisly surgery that lay ahead. Roxton took great care in cleaning the table that would serve as the operating table while Marguerite went over the instruments and the surrounding area with a fine toothcomb. Summerlee kept his head in his book all through the day and into the night. Stopping only to check on Challenger.

"John, what is going on with Arthur?" Marguerite wanted to know.

"I'm not sure but I think he's blaming himself for what happened to Challenger."

"Why? It was an accident."

"True enough, but Arthur thinks it was his fault. If he hadn't left the lab to come up here and listen to that music." Roxton stopped when he realized what he had said.

"It's all right, John, I know I am to blame. If I hadn't been trying to get out of my work none of this would have happened."

"Marguerite, I didn't say that."

"You don't need to, John, I've been telling myself that same thing ever since the accident."

"You are not to blame and neither is Summerlee. What happened happened. We just have to pick up the pieces and go on. The sooner Summerlee come to realize this the better off he will be."

"I don't want to be the one to try and explain it to him."

"I think I'll give it a go after dinner," Roxton said as he went in search of their friend.

Challenger lay in his bed, tossing and turning. Hearing voices, but not quite able to make his eyes open. The images were flooding his mind in rapid succession. His head felt like it was in a press that was being tightened until he thought his head would explode. They were all around him trying to smother him with their kindness. He did not want that.

"Must.get away. Must." Challenger muttered.

"Summerlee!" Marguerite called. "You better get in here, Challenger's waking up."

Marguerite replaced the damp cloth on his forehead with a new, cool one. Summerlee hurried to Challenger's room and moved around Marguerite. He checked Challenger's temperature and was alarmed at how high it had risen. He instructed Marguerite to get more cold water to bring the fever down and to check on the lavender tea he had asked Veronica to make. Summerlee knew they were running out of time and if the hematoma didn't go away on its own soon he would have to operate.

"Come on, George, I don't know if I can do this operation. And I damn sure don't want to try. Not under these circumstances, and most assuredly not on you." Challenger did not respond, causing Summerlee to withdraw further into himself.

The memories flashed by until his head was spinning. They were supposed to be his friends. They were supposed to be his family. What had happened to make them chase him? Why were they trying to hurt him? Challenger's eyes tore open. The first thing his eyes landed on was the worried look on Marguerite's face. Her voice was swimming around in his head and nothing would come into focus. He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs and that only seemed to make things worse. These were the people from his nightmares, the people who were trying to harm him. Challenger pushed away Summerlee's hands, his eyes wide with fear.

"George? Are you all right?" the old one asked him.

"Who are you? I don't know you," Challenger replied.

"George," Marguerite spoke softly, "surely you know us. We're your friends."

"No! You are NOT my friends, you are the ones trying to hurt me!" Summerlee leaned forward and gently placed his hands on Challenger's shoulders, trying to calm him down.

"George, calm down. YOU are with your family now."

"No! No! I have no family here! Leave me alone!" Challenger screamed as he shoved the older gentleman aside.

Summerlee landed on the floor and Marguerite rushed to help him up. Challenger saw his opportunity and took it. He pushed Marguerite on top of the old man and ran from the room. He looked around him and spotted the elevator. Challenger jumped in and lowered the elevator before Roxton and a very stunned Veronica could react. There was nothing they could do but wait for the scientist to leave the elevator before they could use it to follow him. Once outside Challenger ran blindly, knowing only that he had to put as much distance between him and those people in the treehouse.

"We've got to find him and soon," Summerlee was saying. "If we don't the results will be disastrous."

"How long have we got?" Roxton asked as he gathered up what he would need.

"I'm not certain, John, but I would guess that we have until tomorrow morning to find him."

"Well then, let's get going, shall we?" The explorers quickly left the treehouse and began following Challenger's trail.

"What is wrong with Challenger?" Marguerite wanted to know.

"Sometimes with a head injury like this," Summerlee explained, "the mind plays tricks you the person. They see, or think they see, things that are not really there."

"You mean he's hallucinating?"

"No, not really. His mind is telling him that we are not his friends, but rather that we are enemies. It's a form of paranoia."

"Paranoia?" Veronica asked, "Is there anything we can do for him?"

"We can find him in time to save him from himself," was the quiet reply.

"Look." Veronica stated as she pointed to the trail ahead. "He's all over the place.

"Veronica, any idea where he might be headed?"

"There are some caves not far from here. Challenger and I were collecting some ore in them. He might be headed for one of them."

"Show us the way." Veronica took the lead going around the bend in the trail.

Challenger piled the rocks high in the mouth of the cave. That should keep them out, he thought to himself. They can't get me now. I have enough food to last me for a few days. By then they should be tired of looking for me. He busied himself with making a place to sleep for the night.

Veronica came to a stop, nearly bringing down her friends. She stared intently at the cave. Then shook her head and went passed. When Marguerite asked why she didn't stop Veronica explained that the cave was too small to hide anyone. They pressed on. Night would soon be on them. Roxton was glad that Summerlee had agreed to stay behind, the pace they were maintaining was hard, even for them.

When will the headaches stop? He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes trying to force the pain away. It's them, it's those people out there, and they are the cause of my headaches. I'll not let them hurt mea again, oh no, I shall not. He pulled himself as close to the back of the cave as he could, curled up and fell asleep. The dreaded nightmares returned. The exploding colors, flashing lights, and muddled voices tore at him. He tried to run away from them but they kept pace with him, taunting him. He ran one direction they followed. He ran the other direction they were there as well. They held out their arms trying to grab him. He twisted and turned and tried to get away. He jerked upright, his face a mask of fear. Challenger went over to the rock wall and began tearing it down.

"Veronica, We're almost out of daylight and we've not found any clue as to where Challenger went or if he even went in this direction. Our time is running out." Roxton stated.

"I know that, Roxton, but the tracks back at the treehouse say he went in this direction." Veronica climbed the small hill and looked around.

"There," she said as she pointed to a cave. "That is the last cave on this ridge. He has to be in there."

"Veronica, there are rocks in the opening. How could he be hiding in there?" Marguerite demanded.

"Marguerite, he has to be in there. The next cave isn't for miles. I don't see him going that far."

"Well, I guess it can't hurt to look." Marguerite replied. T

he explorers slowly approached the cave when suddenly the rock wall fell in their direction. They scattered as the rocks cascaded down upon them like a waterfall. When the dust settled, Challenger emerged form the cave and stood there staring at them. With an insane scream he leapt down from the cave and rushed them. Roxton swiftly dodged his charge, causing Challenger to fall to the ground. He lay there with his arms wrapped around his body, shaking and shivering. Marguerite put the blanket on him that she had brought and Roxton and Veronica got the stretcher and laid it by the scientist. As they loaded him onto it, his frightened eyes stared up at them.

"Who are you people? I don't know you." He repeated over and over.

"It's ok, we know you, we're here to help you." Roxton said soothingly as he opened the stretcher.

"John," Marguerite said warily.

"What is it, Marguerite?"

"He's barely breathing and his skin is slimy. I don't think this is a good thing."

"We'd better hurry. Veronica you and I can carry the stretcher, Marguerite you go on ahead and alert Summerlee. Tell him to be ready for us when we get there." Marguerite took off toward the treehouse.

"Roxton, we better hurry. It's almost dark, I don't want to be out here after dark."

"Neither do I." Roxton replied as he picked up his end of the stretcher.

Summerlee was leaning on the balcony railing, lost in thought. How could I have allowed this to happen? Am I getting so senile that memories of my dead wife mean more to me than paying attention in a deadly situation? If George dies, how can the others forgive me? How can I forgive myself? Even if he lives how can I forgive myself? How can George ever forgive me? As he stared, unseeing, out into the jungle a single tear found its way down his cheek and splashed onto his shirt.

He failed to notice Marguerite running toward the treehouse and he didn't even notice when she erupted from the elevator, breathless, looking for him. Marguerite ran to Challenger's room, tripping over furniture in her haste. When she didn't find Summerlee there she returned to the main room. She called his name and the look on her face changed from one of urgency to one of shock and fear.

"Summerlee, where are you?" Marguerite finally spotted him on the balcony. "There you are," she said as she approached the balcony, "why didn't you answer me?" Marguerite grew puzzled when Summerlee failed to reply.

"Arthur," she spoke softly as she laid a hand on his shoulder, "are you ok?"

"What? Yes, dear I'm fine. I was just a little preoccupied. Have you found George then?" Summerlee moved away from the balcony.

"Yes, Roxton and Veronica are bringing him back. Arthur, he's not in real good shape. He was yelling and saying that he didn't know us. And he was yelling something about us trying to hurt him. Summerlee, what's going on?"

"It's the pressure building in his brain. We are going to have to operate after all. Better get ready. Marguerite, will you help me prepare?" Marguerite followed Summerlee as he readied the main room to become his operating room.

Summerlee had Marguerite making some of his lavender tea to help take Challenger's fever down and help him sleep while he made some anesthetic to keep Challenger asleep during the operation. They had finished their tasks and Marguerite had dinner cooked and ready to serve when they heard the elevator coming up. Summerlee tensed, not know what shape his friend would be in. Roxton and Veronica stepped off the elevator and Marguerite led them to the couch. They carefully transferred Challenger to the couch and Summerlee check his temperature and his pulse.

He didn't like what he saw but he knew the lavender tea would be a great help. Summerlee instructed Marguerite to feed Challenger the tea while he held his friend's head slightly elevated so he could drink. Veronica asked when they could do the surgery and Summerlee sadly informed her it could not be done until morning at the earliest. He told her that the fever had to come down or they could not operate. While Summerlee stayed with Challenger, the others went to the stream to get as much cold water as they could.

"Oh, George, I'm so terribly sorry. I know what's happened to you is my fault. I wish I could take your place. I shall never forgive myself for this. In the morning I have to open holes into your skull and drain off the blood, but I don't know if I can do it, I just don't."

"Arthur, you are George's only hope. Without you he will die," Roxton spoke quietly as he pulled up a chair beside him.

"And with me he most likely will." Summerlee hung his head low.

"Arthur," Roxton spoke sternly, "I will not allow you to speak this way. We all know you are doing the best you can to save Challenger. He would tell you that himself if he could."

"That is the point, my boy. He cannot tell us anything. And the reason for it is my fault."

"No, Arthur, it isn't," Marguerite spoke as she took the empty chair next to him.

"It's just as much my fault as it is yours. If I hadn't been trying to get out of work by turning that damned gramophone on none of this would have happened. So don't you see that it isn't your fault? If anything we are both to blame, and if there was anyway I could go back and undo what I've done I would."

"You don't understand. I allowed my mind to wander away from my work at a crucial moment. As a botanist I know the dangers of doing exactly what I did, and I never should have done it. It should be me lying there not George." Roxton nodded to Marguerite and she moved off leaving the men alone.

"Arthur, you can't let your feelings of guilt tear you down."

"Roxton, it's not just that. George and I have never really gotten along and there were many times I wished him ill. But to have this happen, I never would have wanted this."

"Precisely why you needn't hold yourself responsible. Everything happens for a reason. You may not know what that reason is at the time. Eventually you will see the reason. Everything will make sense one day," Roxton put his arm around his friend's sunken shoulders.

"Boys," Marguerite and Veronica called from the couch, "Challenger is awake and refusing to drink the tea."

"Oh brother," Roxton said as he rolled his eyes, "Coming." Roxton and Summerlee rose and joined the girls.

"Now then, George, what's this I hear about you not wanting to drink your tea?" Summerlee admonished him.

"Take that vile liquid away from me. It tastes disgusting."

"Yes, George, it does. But you know it works. Now please drink the tea." Summerlee gently held his friends head and helped him to sip some tea.

Challenger stared at Summerlee while he choked down a mouthful of the awful tea. Something was not right. His friend seemed troubled, worried, and sad even. Challenger decided he would talk to him about it later. For now he just drank the horrid tea and tried to listen to the conversation going on around him. The pain was returning, ever increasing in its intensity. The voices became muddled, like everyone was talking under water. Challenger put his hands to his head putting the heels of his hands in his eyes trying to push the pain away. He moaned, all conversation stopped as the explorers looked at their friend.

"George, what it is?" Summerlee asked, warily.

"My head feels like someone it using it as a log in a fire."

"That means the pressure is still building. But the fact that you can put together a coherent sentence is a good sign. Get some rest, George, first thing in the morning I will have to attempt the procedure." Summerlee said, his face sullen.

"Arthur, when this is all over I think we need to have a talk," Challenger told his old friend. "Right now I just want to get rid of this horrendous headache," Challenger closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

"He will be all right, won't he, Summerlee?" Marguerite asked.

"I hope so my dear, I certainly hope so." Came the shaky reply.

CHAPTER TWO

The following morning dawned bight and clear. Roxton fixed them a quick breakfast while Summerlee checked on his patient and readied himself for the operation. Roxton kept his eye on the older gentleman as he performed his chores, worried about him. The look on Summerlee's face told Roxton he as still wrestling with his conscience. He would talk to him as soon as breakfast was finished.

Summerlee went out onto the balcony while Roxton, Marguerite and Veronica transferred Challenger to the table. They laid him on his stomach so Summerlee could do what he needed to. It pained Veronica when she thought of what Summerlee was about to do. Roxton slowly and quietly approached the balcony.

"Arthur, we're ready."

"I am not, Roxton. I cannot go through with it. I just can't."

"Arthur, don't do this. George is lying on that table waiting for you to go in there and do what needs to be done. You are the only one here who can do this."

"What if I make a mistake? One slip and George could either be killed or he will live out his days mentally incapacitated. I could not live with either outcome."

"Or the operation will go without a hitch and George will recover nicely. Arthur you put these negative thoughts out of your head and get back in there and do what needs to be done." Roxton spoke firmly; Summerlee stared at him for a long silent moment.

"Come on, Arthur, you owe George at least that much. If you want, I'll go drill the bloody holes. But I can't guarantee that I'll do it in the right places."

"No, Lord Roxton, you're right. I do owe George that much and more. I'll do it."

Summerlee brought the medical book to the table and propped it open near Challenger's head. He carefully shaved three small spots on Challenger's skull, and then he studied the pages intently before picking up the drill. He turned the drill on and Marguerite flinched. The sound of the drill boring its way into Challenger's skull grated on Marguerite's nerves, sending shivers up and down her spine, like fingernails on a blackboard. Bone fragments were scattering all over; even Roxton, the great hunter, had to look away, the sight too grisly even for him.

The treehouse was filled with a most horrid, foul odor, like the smell of a decaying dinosaur carcass in the heat of the day. When the smoke cleared, Summerlee carefully brushed the area and tipped Challenger's head to one side. With an almost agonizing slowness, the old, dark blood began to ooze, draining through the holes. Summerlee carefully watched the blood draining, looking and hoping for the new blood to appear.

"Arthur, I don't think his brains are going to spill out." Roxton said.

"Nor do I, Lord Roxton. I am merely looking for signs that the old blood has drained and the new blood is taking its place."

"What do you plan on plugging the holes with, or were you planning on installing some eyes in the back of his head?" Veronica snickered, Marguerite and Roxton grinned foolishly at each other, and Summerlee regarded them all with a look of wonder.

"Lord Roxton, really. One would think that a man of your caliber would be able to restrain himself in a situation such as this." Then Summerlee grinned at them.

"Help me wrap his head, Marguerite. Veronica disposed of the container with the blood in it and then they all took Challenger into his room and gently placed him on his bed.

"Now what happens?" Marguerite asked.

"Now we wait." Summerlee replied.

"Wait, for what?" She wanted to know.

"To see if he wakes up."

"You mean we wait to see how long it takes him to wake up. You did a great job, Arthur, George will wake up and be his same old boorishly egotistical self again soon enough." Roxton remarked.

"Of course he will. You did excellent, Arthur." Marguerite added.

Waiting for Challenger to wake up made the next three days the hardest they had ever endured. Challenger seemed to sleep somewhat peacefully, but Summerlee was concerned by the lack of movement. He voiced his concerns to Roxton on the second evening.

"Summerlee, you still seem troubled. I thought that with the operation out of the way you might return to your usual sunny self."

"I must tell you I am worried, Lord Roxton, very worried."

"About what? Challenger made it through the surgery, everything will be fine."

"He has been sleeping much to long. And I don't like the lack of body movement."

"Isn't that normal?"

"No, it's not. He should have woken up within hours of the surgery. The anesthetic I made was not that powerful. As for the lack of movement, I fear that may be my doing as well."

"Come on, Arthur, you can't blame yourself for that."

"Yes, Roxton, I can. If I drilled too far into his skull I could have ruptured part of his brain. If I have I shall never be able to forgive myself."

"Arthur, Challenger has been through a hell of an ordeal. Seeing his lab blown up, the paranoia and the surgery. His body must be nearly worn out. Maybe he's just trying to sleep more to get his strength back."

"I only wish I could be so sure, Roxton."

"Well, I am sure, Arthur. You did everything you could to save Challenger. No one could ask any more of you. You are being too hard on yourself. Stop blaming yourself for something that happened, what's happened, happened. Are you sorry for what happened?"

"Of course I am!"

"Well then, that's all that counts. Has it made you more aware of things?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Then you have learned from your mistake and it is time to move on."

"I suppose you're right. I just feel like there is something I could have done or should have done differently. I have scoured over Veronica's medical books and my notes. I have not found anything to suggest why Challenger is still in his coma."

"Maybe there is no logical explanation for it. Some times things happen just because they happen."

"Lord Roxton, are you sure you didn't study under Sigmund Freud?" Summerlee responded with a smile, the first Roxton recalled seeing on his face in a long time.

"No, Arthur, it's all self taught. You and George keep me on my toes."

Marguerite felt Challenger's cheeks and his forehead. His fever seemed to have broken. She stared at their unofficial leader with sorrow in her light green eyes. She wanted to shake him, wake him up and tell him one of his experiments was going to boil over. Marguerite would even settle for one of his insanely boring lectures on the exact way to pick Maraja berries. She could even hear him telling her exactly how to pick them from the spiny trunks of the trees they grow on, and to make sure she only picks the purple ones!

Challenger's head rolled from side to side but there seemed to be little other body movement. Marguerite was no doctor but she knew something was not right. She lifted his left arm and let it go, it dropped to the bed like a rock. She tired his other arm and let it go, it stayed in the air for a moment before dropping to the bed. She rose; her face filled with alarm, she ran to find Summerlee, knocking her chair over in her haste.

"Summerlee!" She shouted as she ran. "Come quick!"

"What is it?" Summerlee asked as he and Roxton came around the corner.

"It's Challenger. Something's wrong with him."

"What do you mean?" Summerlee asked as he righted the chair and sat down.

"I noticed Challenger's head was moving but there didn't seem to be much movement in the rest of his body. I saw a test done once and I tried it."

"Which test?" "The one where you life their arm then let it go."

"And what was George's reaction?" Summerlee asked, not sure he wanted to know what she had seen.

"Well, first I lifted his left arm and let it go. It dropped like a rock. I tried his right arm and it stayed in the air for a minute or two then it dropped. I got the same response with his legs."

"Damn," was the only response Summerlee gave, the look in his eyes told it all.

"I was right, Lord Roxton. I have drilled too far into George's skull. I must have punctured the brain itself. What have I done?"

"You don't know that for sure, Arthur. Couldn't this just be a side effect of the surgery or something?" Roxton asked.

"It could be, I have no way of knowing for certain until he wakes up."

"Any idea when that might happen?" Marguerite asked.

"I would say right about now." All eyes turned to the figure on the bed.

"George! You're awake!" They chimed. Challenger held his head and winced.

"Apparently so. Oh, my head. That must have been some party."

"You might say that, George." Roxton smiled.

"George," Summerlee spoke softly, "what do you remember about what happened to you?"

"What happened to me? Well, I was in the lab working on that new compound to soak our meat in. You were there, Arthur, helping me. Then I seem to remember one of the containers smoking. then nothing." Challenger looked puzzled.

"Well, his memory seems intact." Roxton said reassuringly.

"Wait! My lab.the wall." Challenger tried to rise and check on his precious laboratory.

His entire left side gave out and he plopped back down to the bed, a look of shock on his face. He tried to move again with no better results. He looked up at Summerlee, whose face was a mirror of his own. Challenger reached over with his good right arm and performed the same tests Marguerite and Summerlee had. Roxton saw that he came to the same conclusions they did.

"George, I'm so sorry. I must have done something wrong." Summerlee began.

"Arthur, you know as well as I that this is most likely only temporary." Challenger slurred. His soft, gentle voice was somewhat garbled due to the paralysis.

"No, George, I don't know that for certain. I am afraid only time will tell us."

"I remember everything now. My lab, I remember the explosion and the hole."

"Relax, George. Marguerite, Veronica and I are almost done fixing your lab. We've even made a little surprise for you that I think you'll like." Roxton said.

"Surprise? For me, when can I see it?" Challenger tried again to rise.

"Hold on there, George. We're not finished yet and I don't think Summerlee is very willing to let you out of that bed yet. Are you forgetting the surgery on your head?"

"Surgery?" Challenger looked quizzical as he felt the bandages.

"Yes, George. We…that is to say I…discovered a nasty hematoma and I had to drain it."

"That explains the awful headache." Challenger laughed and shook his head only to wince at the pain. "But I really would like to see what you've done so far."

"I don't think so, George." Summerlee stated adamantly.

"But, Arthur, they went to all that time and trouble."

"Not that much time actually, Challenger. You have been asleep for three days so we've had a lot of time." Roxton said cheerfully.

"Three days? I've been asleep for three days? Why didn't someone wake me?"

"We tried, George, but when you have it in your mind to sleep you really sleep." Marguerite replied with a smile.

"Well then I should be completely rested. I'll just go check on my lab."

"I told you, Lord Roxton. It looks like we will indeed have to get out the rope and tie him to the bed." Summerlee made a motion to pull Challenger's arm to the bed frame.

"All right, all right. I know when I'm licked. I'll stay here if you promise to lose the rope." Challenger stared audaciously at Summerlee and Roxton.

"What do you think, Arthur? Should be believe him?" Roxton asked slyly.

"Well, he is still paralyzed so I don't see him going off without help and the girls certainly wouldn't help him, would you?" Summerlee looked at them sternly.

"Oh no, not us, never." They replied in unison, giggling.

"I think George has had enough visitors for today. We need to let him get as much rest as possible." Summerlee shooed them out of the room as he checked Challenger's dressings then took the chair by the bed to watch his friend.

He could tell Challenger was becoming frustrated with his lack of movement and wasn't quite sure what to tell him. Challenger was trying to adjust his shirt and failing miserably. Summerlee reached over and helped him.

"Thanks, Arthur, I only wish you didn't have to do that for me."

"It's no trouble, George, really. I owe you so much, this is the least I can do."

"You owe me for what?"

"George, you may have forgotten what really happened in that lab but I have not. It was my inattentiveness that caused the explosion and I will never forget that."

"Arthur, it wasn't your fault. I can't expect everyone to share my concentration, my zest for learning. I should never have demanded that of you, and I apologize."

"Stop it! You have every right to blame me. I most assuredly do not deserve your apology! George, Damnit why can't you just admit it was my fault and let me take them blame and hatred I have coming?" Summerlee stormed out of Challenger's room, as Marguerite was moving down the hall.

She looked at the botanist quizzically and entered Challenger's room quietly. Challenger was lying propped up on pillows staring at the doorway as if it were made of molten lava. Marguerite sat beside him for several long moments before speaking.

"Challenger, are you all right?"

"What? Yes, I'm fine. What is wrong with Arthur?" Marguerite failed to answer.

"Marguerite, what is wrong with Arthur? Why does he think this is his fault? Is it because he was caught up in the moment of the music? He has done nothing wrong."

"No, Challenger, he hasn't. If anyone is to blame it is me. I was the one who turned the music on in the first place."

"Why is everyone so intent on taking the blame for this? It was no one's fault. I can share the blame as well. I knew how explosive those chemicals were, I should have kept my eye on them but I didn't."

"George, how can you blame yourself? Look what happened to you."

"Yes, and if Arthur had stayed in the lab with me he would have been injured as well and where do you think that would have left me?"

"You are so right, George. I just wish we could get Summerlee to see it."

"Well, we will just have to do something to see that he does." Marguerite helped Challenger to settle down into his pillows.

He promised to stay there as long as Marguerite promised to try and think of a way to help Summerlee. She watched her friend until he fell asleep. She put a light blanket on him, puzzled by the sudden drop in temperature and went to join the others. She found Veronica, Summerlee and Roxton on the balcony. She looked up to see what they were looking at and gasped. Clouds dark as night hung over the plateau making it appear to be a moonless night.

"We need to close up the treehouse and put everything away that can be blown around." Veronica said.

"Why, it's just a rain storm." Marguerite said.

"No, Marguerite it's not. I have seen a storm like this a few times before. It's not going to be pretty."

The explorers moved quickly around the treehouse pulling down the rolled shades. Just as they put the last of the knick-knacks away the rains started. Pouring sheets of rain, like a waterfall pounded the treehouse. Veronica was putting buckets under the drips when they heard Challenger call.

"Uh oh, we forgot about Challenger's room." Roxton said as he headed there.

"What is going on?" Challenger demanded to know.

"It's nothing, Challenger, just a little thunderstorm."

"Thunderstorm, with lightning and rain?"

"Yes, that usually accompanies a thunderstorm."

"I've got to get to the balcony." Challenger tried to rise.

"No you don't. I'll not have Summerlee screaming at me on your account."

"You don't understand, Roxton. Last month I attached a device to the trees across from the treehouse that will measure just such a storm. I need to take some readings."

"George, just tell me how to take the readings and I'll do it for you."

"Lord Roxton," they turned to look at Summerlee as he entered the room. "I don't think George will settle for anything less than doing the work himself."

"What are you suggesting?" Roxton asked.

"I am suggesting that we move George out to the balcony where he can direct us to complete his tests for him." Summerlee said, regarding Challenger with a stern gaze. Challenger knew better than to argue.

"I promise not to be a bother, it's just that this experiment is so important." Challenger said, looking hopeful.

"Roxton you are much stronger than I, you take his left side and I'll take his right."

"Arthur, my right side works just fine." Together, slowly, Roxton and Challenger made their way to the balcony where Summerlee had set up a chair. Roxton helped settle Challenger into it and grabbed the notebook and pencil to begin taking notes.

"Just tell me what to do, George." Roxton said. "First look at the silver plates on the two large trees to the left."

"I don't see any silver plates on the trees just gold ones."

"Ahh they are reflecting the yellow light just as I thought. Write that down." He handed Roxton his pocket watch. "Keep your eyes on the plates and write down the next time they change color and what color they change to. Also write down the time between color changes."

The group settled down around Challenger to watch the storm. He was chomping at the bit to be conducting the experiments himself but he didn't try to get out of his chair. Summerlee alternated between watching the storm and Challenger. He didn't like the looks of that storm and he was equally displeased with the ashen pallor on Challenger's face. Summerlee rested his hand on Challenger's wrist and gently patted it. He slipped his fingers around his wrist and took a quick reading of his pulse, not wanting to alert Challenger. His pulse was fast and shallow.

Summerlee returned his attention to the storm. He wasn't sure what kind of experiments Challenger was running, he only hoped they were completed soon. He voiced his opinion, making Marguerite jump.

"How much longer will these experiments go on?" Summerlee asked.

"They are almost done, Arthur. Just a few more tests then we will be done."

"How are you feeling, George?" Summerlee asked.

"Fine, just a few more minutes, that's all I need." Challenger pinched the bridge of his nose and peered out into the downpour.

"I will not promise you will get those few more minutes, George. You look like you are about to pass out." Summerlee felt his forehead. "Damn, your fever is returning. You need to get back to your bed."

"Please, Arthur, just a few more minutes. The storm will be here full force then.

"I just need to see my theory tested. When lightning strikes those plates and it produces the effect that I believe it will, I just may have found a way to make galvanized steel. Think of what we could do with steel, Arthur."

"Think of all the things we could make. I may be able to reproduce the lightning but I need to know if it will even work."

"Come on, Summerlee," Roxton defended the red haired scientist, "Let him have his few minutes. He's not made a fuss the entire time he's been out here."

"Against my better judgment, I will allow him to stay but the minute the lightning strikes those plates he goes back to his bed."

"Right you are, Arthur." Challenger agreed, Roxton did a double take.

"You sure you're all right, Challenger?" He asked.

"Yes, Roxton, just a little tired," Challenger sighed.

"Challenger, Marguerite and I can help you to the couch. Roxton can finish your experiment. The main storm has changed direction and now it won't reach here for some time yet," Veronica said pleadingly.

"Do you think you and Marguerite will be able to help get me to the couch?"

"I can help as well, George," Summerlee added. "No, I want you to stay here with Roxton, he may need help during the final stages of the experiment."

"We can do it, George. Veronica, you stand behind him and I will get in front of him." Together Veronica and Marguerite half led, half carried Challenger over to the couch and helped settle him on it. Veronica covered him with a thin blanket and eyed him with a worried look. She left and brought back some lavender tea. She put the cup to his lips and helped him sip the hot beverage.

"Thank you, you brought my favorite vile liquid," Challenger chuckled.

"And I intend to see to it that you drink it all." Veronica smiled trying to look at him sternly.

Challenger finished the cup of tea and lay back on the couch listening to the rain. As the minutes passed, the storm drew closer. Roxton continued to take notes with Summerlee's help while Marguerite fixed them all something to eat. As Marguerite was setting the table a loud clap of thunder shook the treehouse.

"Here comes your storm, Challenger." Roxton said excitedly, Challenger shifted his position.

"Veronica, Marguerite, turn me toward the balcony, please. I would like to see this," Challenger looked, pleadingly.

"Why don't we just help you back to the balcony? You could have a closer look then," Veronica offered.

"No, I just want to stay here. Just turn me around, if it's all right with you."

"Maybe we should take you back to your room," Veronica said. Summerlee overheard the conversation and left the balcony to join the conversation.

"I think it would be best to leave George right where he is for now," Summerlee said as he helped Veronica and Marguerite turn the couch.

"You mean leave him here in the main room?" Marguerite asked.

"For the time being I think that would be best. Just in case there are any complications I would like to have him here where we will all be able to hear his call."

Another loud clap of thunder sent their attention to the balcony. Challenger's storm was finally here. He strained to sit up and gratefully accepted the help Summerlee offered. Both men had their eyes glued to the awesome display Mother Nature was showering them with. The rain was coming down in sheets, the thunder rolled over the plateau like a locomotive. The moment Challenger had been waiting for had finally arrived. The lightning came, bolt after bolt, streak after streak.

One bolt smashed into a nearby tree splitting it as if it were a toothpick. Roxton and Summerlee were feverishly taking notes. Even Marguerite and Veronica went to the balcony to watch the display. In a sudden shower of sparks, lightning struck the silver plate high up on the tree. Immediately after, another bolt hit the plate, then another. Sparks were flying everywhere and the explorers pulled back, afraid wayward sparks might land on them. Roxton inched out onto the balcony and raised the telescope.

"Arthur, you've got to see this. Look at that plate," Roxton called to Summerlee.

"What the..." Summerlee said as he approached the balcony.

The silver plate had taken on a strange texture and hue. The smooth, shiny satin sheen was gone; it had been replaced by a bumpy dull, lifeless tinge. Roxton handed the telescope to Summerlee who looked through it and smiled.

"You did it, George! Your experiment worked!" Summerlee shouted.

When Challenger didn't answer they turned to look at him. He lay sprawled on the couch, his left arm dangling over the edge, sound asleep. Summerlee went over to him and pulled the blanket up around his chin.

"Sleep tight, George, we'll take care of your experiment for you," Summerlee whispered softly.

The next day the rain was still coming down but the thunder and lightning had moved on during the night. Challenger had not woken since he fell asleep during the experiment. His fever had broken several hours ago and Summerlee had returned to his room for a nap. Marguerite and Veronica were in another part of the treehouse keeping themselves occupied. Roxton sat in a chair next to Challenger reading a book.

"What are you reading, Roxton?" Challenger asked, startling him.

"Charles Dickens. How are you feeling?"

"Like death warmed up. Oh no, I fell asleep. My experiment!"

"Relax, George, Summerlee and I finished your experiment yesterday."

"Yesterday? How long have I been asleep?"

"Just about twenty four hours. You must have needed that lavender tea Veronica gave you."

"Yes, well I must admit I haven't been feeling up to much these last few days." Roxton pulled his chair closer to Challenger.

"George, what is it? What's wrong with you? Do you want me to wake Summerlee?"

"No, Arthur must be nearly exhausted himself. Let him sleep. He can do nothing for me anyway." Challenger sighed.

"Then tell me, George. Maybe there's something I can do to help."

"Thank you, Roxton, but I don't think there's much anyone can do."

"Talk to me, Damnit. Don't keep things bottled up inside you; it'll only lead to your destruction. Isn't that what you always tell me?" Roxton regarded him sternly.

"I just have a general feeling of frustration. Nothing like when one of my experiments goes wrong. This is different."

"How is it different?"

"I have no control here, Roxton. When I get frustrated with an experiment, I just dump it out and start over. But with this there is nothing to dump out. I don't like this feeling." Challenger said, irritated.

"It's the paralysis then. Not to worry, George, Summerlee said that would go away, it just might take a while. But we can deal with that. That's what friends are for."

"I will not stand by and watch my friends tending to my needs because I cannot. I have always done for myself and I shall continue to do so!" Challenger shouted and he slammed his good fist on the couch.

"George, you have always taken care of any one of us who has gotten themselves hurt on many occasions. Now it's our turn to repay the favor don't take that away from us."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe we need to help you just as much as you want to not need our help? You do more for this treehouse than anybody, it's time we returned the favor."

"Roxton, don't you see? None of this would be happening to any of you if it weren't for my damned stubborn curiosity. I finally discover the meaning of true friendship and the meaning of family, and it has to be here on this godforsaken plateau."

"George, we all came to this plateau for our own reasons. You never forced anybody to come. I know you have taken it on yourself to see to it that we get back to London, but that is not your task to undertake," Roxton replied.

"Then whose task is it?"

"That job now belongs to all of us. We all decided long ago that you were not to blame, George, and the sooner you realize that the better off you'll be. Right now all we want is for you to get well. We want you back to your inventions and experiments as quickly as possible."

"In my heart I know you're right, but a part of me still refuses to believe it."

"Then let us reassure you, George." Marguerite said as she and Veronica entered the room.

"Marguerite, how many times must you be told that it is impolite to eavesdrop on other peoples conversations?" Challenger admonished.

"It's not like we had a choice, George. Your voice was carrying half way across the plateau." Veronica remarked.

"Well then, you two may as well get in your two shillings worth." He snorted.

"Fine then, we will. First off, George, you are not the only one in this group who feels things around here are his fault. We all have and one time or another, and it is usually you who talks us out of those feelings," Marguerite began.

"And second," Veronica continued, "what gives you the right to deny your family their right to care for one of their own when he is sick? You need us for a change and we want to be here for you even though you are being a raptor's behind."

"I don't quite know what to say," Challenger found himself at a loss for words.

"How about thank you and I'll let you help me, George?" Roxton smiled.

"Right you are, Roxton. All right I am willing to try this if you all think you can put up with me," Challenger sighed.

"George, we learned to put up with your tantrums long ago. This will not be hard at all," Marguerite laughed, Challenger threw a couch pillow at her, smiling.

"What's all the racket about out here?" Summerlee demanded to know as he came into the main room.

"George, you should be sleeping. Why are the rest of you bothering him?"

"They are not bothering me, Arthur, indeed they have been helping me figure out something I should have seen a long time ago."

"That's all well and good but you need your rest. I'll not have you…" Summerlee began when Challenger cut him off.

"I know, Arthur, I know. Just lying here doing nothing but sleeping is driving me crazy."

"That is why I put you here in the main room, so you would feel more a part of the goings on. I thought that would make you want to rest and relax more, but apparently I was wrong."

"OK, OK I get the hint. Give me a book to read and I will shut up." Roxton handed him the book he had been reading, Challenger glanced at the binding.

"A Tale Of Two Cities. Good book, Roxton, thank you." Challenger ended the conversation by clumsily opening the book and settling down to read.

The others went about whatever tasks they could find. The rain showed no signs of letting up anytime soon so they decided to do some spring-cleaning. Challenger fumbled with his book until his frustrations got the better of him and he threw the book across the room. Marguerite picked up the book, looked at Challenger lying helpless on the couch, and an idea came to her. She pulled up a chair next to him, opened the book and began to read.

"IT WAS the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."

"You have a very lovely voice, Marguerite. And thank you for reading to me. I'm sorry I threw the book. I couldn't read it, I couldn't turn the pages."

"It's all right, Challenger, I don't mind. I've been meaning to read this book anyway." Marguerite lied, smiling sweetly. She hated this book but if it kept him calm she would read it a dozen times.

Marguerite went back to reading the book, her soft, lilting voice drifting quietly through the treehouse. All was very quite, just the sounds of falling rain to fill the void. Marguerite read for over an hour before Challenger finally drifted off to sleep. When Marguerite carefully and quietly put the book down she looked around to find Summerlee and Roxton asleep in their chairs. She smiled and left with Veronica to empty the buckets under the drips.

"Don't you ever wish you could leave the plateau? Maybe go to London or Paris?" Marguerite asked Veronica as they worked.

"When you all first came here I did wonder what the outside world was like. But no, I really don't think I'd like to leave here. It's my home, the only home I've ever known. I don't think I could leave."

"Don't breath a word of this to Roxton or anyone, but I'm not sure I want to go home either."

"Marguerite! I never would have thought you would say such a thing."

"Well, here everything is different. There's no one chasing me claiming I stole something from them," Marguerite took in Veronica's look, "ok there was that one time."

"I know how you feel, Marguerite, this place grows on you."

"Yes, I guess it does. But I know how important it is to Challenger that we get back to London. If we ever do make it back I think I will come back here."

"You are welcome anytime, Marguerite."

"Thank you Veronica."

"If old home week is over, could I trouble someone for a glass of water?" Challenger asked.

"Yes, well, uhm, let me get it for you George." Marguerite replied as she brought him a glass and helped him drink it.

"I'm sorry to have eavesdropped."

"Don't give it another thought, George. Besides, if you breathe a word of it to anyone I'll slit your throat," she smirked.

"Oh, your secret is safe with me. I will need your help in my laboratory again soon." Challenger smiled. "

Are you hungry, George? Veronica and I were about to fix something to eat."

"No, not right now. The mere thought of food disgusts me. I would like some more of that lavender tea, if there is any left."

"Right away, George," Marguerite said as she rose. "Veronica, why don't you come and help me?"

"Uh, sure." They went into the kitchen.

"I don't want to wake Summerlee, lord knows he hasn't gotten much sleep lately, but Challenger is starting to worry me. He doesn't want to eat or drink, he doesn't even ask about his experiments. He just wants to drink that vile concoction of Summerlee's."

"What's this about George not eating?" Summerlee asked.

"Oh sorry, Arthur, I hope we didn't wake you."

"No, you didn't wake me. But what was this you were saying about George?"

"It may be nothing, it's just that every time we offer him food he turns it down. He only seems to want the tea."

"I had noticed that as well. I believe he is suffering from more than just mere frustration. I believe he is giving up. Giving up on everything and every one. And that is my fault as well." Summerlee turned and left the kitchen, going into his room and closing the door.

"What's with Summerlee?" Veronica wondered. "He feels this whole thing is his fault when we all know it's my fault." Marguerite answered.

"Your fault?"

"Yes, my fault. I was trying to get out of doing some work when I turned on that damned gramophone. If I had just left it alone this would never have happened."

"You don't know that, Marguerite. Summerlee's attention could have been drawn away from his work some other way. The way I see it no one is at fault here. And you all just need to get over it and get back to your lives."

"You know, Veronica, you just might have made someone a great sister."

Sometime later, Roxton woke. He stretched, yawned and stood up. When is this damned rain going to stop? He wondered. He went into the kitchen and got something to eat. He brought it back to the table and began to eat when he noticed Challenger quietly staring out into the rain. He put his meal back on the plate and went to join his friend. Maybe I can get George to tell me what's bothering him before it eats him alive.

"Mind if I join you?" Roxton asked as he sat down.

"It's a free treehouse." Came the sullen reply.

"George, I can see that you are still upset and it bothers me. I thought we had things all ironed out."

"We did, Roxton. There's nothing wrong with me, really. I was just thinking."

"What does the great George Challenger think about when he has nothing better to do than lie about all day?"

"Right now I'm just thinking about the experiments that will have to be done over. All that hard work that has gone down the drain. And Arthur, I am thinking about Arthur. There has to be something I can do to convince him I am not mad at him nor do I blame him for anything."

"And just whose problem is he?"

"Summerlee will be my problem. I think I know how to deal with him."

"Oh you think you know how to deal with me, Lord Roxton?" Summerlee said from behind Roxton.

"Arthur," Roxton said, "I was just explaining to George that the only thing he need concern himself with right now is resting and getting better." Roxton replied nervously.

"I see. I'll discuss your other comment with you later. You are right George does need to rest. But AFTER he eats his dinner," Summerlee said, glaring at Challenger.

"I'm not hungry right now."

"Challenger, the look on Summerlee's face tells me that was the wrong thing to say," Roxton chuckled.

"It most certainly was. George, you need to eat even if you don't want to. We will start you out on some nice hot broth and see how you do with that. Then in the morning you will eat solid food."

"Why do I feel like a child again?" Challenger wondered.

"Probably because you are acting like one, George," Roxton teased.

Summerlee busied himself making broth for Challenger while Roxton donned his slicker to go out and get some meat from the shed. Summerlee pulled his chair up to Challenger's side and began to spoon the broth into his mouth.

"Arthur," Challenger said between mouthfuls, "we need to talk."

"Later, George, you need to eat now."

"No, I need to say this now."

"All right, what is so important?"

"Arthur, I know you don't want to hear this but if you don't listen to me I will refuse to eat another bite of food until you do."

"All right, George, speak your piece so we can get on with your meal."

"I don't know how to impress upon you the fact that I do not blame you for what happened to me. I am glad you were not in the lab when it blew up. If you had been, there is no doubt in my mind that I would not be here right now,"

"Since we came to the plateau we have become like a family, and as such it is the job of everyone to do their part to help each other. You need to quit blaming yourself and start doing your part."

"Start doing my part? What do you call operating on you?"

"A start. A good start at that. But you have more work ahead of you. You are the one skilled in medical training. If anyone is going to be able to help me get the use of my body back that will be you,"

"I will get better but only with your help. You need to stop blaming yourself and figure out a way to help me." Summerlee stared at Challenger for a long moment.

"I will help you, George, but I still think your thinking is tainted by your injury. But if you want me to help you I will not be an easy task master."

"Oh, I can believe that. I will do my best to do whatever it is you ask of me."

"All right then, let's start right now. Finish this broth."

"A deal is a deal, but I think I can drink this myself. You go get some sleep." Summerlee eyed him suspiciously. "Come on, Arthur, I'll call you if I need you."

"Very well, I'll go get some sleep if you finish your broth and then do the same."

"I'll see to it that he does." Roxton said.

"Oh great, with all these mother hens about I'll never have a moments peace."

"Afraid not, George," Marguerite chimed in, "if it takes a conspiracy to get you well then a conspiracy you'll get," she gently hugged him.

The next day dawned the same as the day before; rain, rain and more rain. Veronica informed them this usually accompanied the type of storm they had experienced a few days ago. Roxton, getting cabin fever, asked how long they could expect the rain to continue. He was not very pleased when Veronica told them she has seen the rains continue for as long as two weeks.

"Two weeks? What the bloody hell do you do cooped up for two weeks?" Roxton groaned loudly.

"Really, John, I didn't think anyone would have to give you ideas." Marguerite replied sarcastically, Roxton rolled his eyes and smiled.

"Well, Roxton, if you are looking for something to keep you busy you could always make ammunition. When the rains stop we will need to do a little hunting as our larder is getting a little low on meat." Summerlee said from the kitchen.

"For now you all come and eat breakfast."

"You cooked that marvelous smelling breakfast, Summerlee?"

"I have been known to cook a meal or two in my time," he replied with a smile.

"It smells divine, Arthur. I can't wait to taste it," Marguerite said.

After everyone finished breakfast and the dishes were done, they all congregated in the main room to decide what their tasks for the day would be. Summerlee would be busy with Challenger most of the day. Marguerite had her sewing to occupy her time while Veronica had decided to sharpen her knives. Roxton, undecided as to what to do decided to spend part of his day floating between his friends.

"Arthur, that hurts," Challenger was complaining.

"I told you I would not be an easy task master, George."

"Yes, but you don't have to try and tear my leg off either."

Summerlee was lifting Challenger's leg, bending it then putting it back down on the couch. Challenger was squirming and trying to pull away. Summerlee only grinned, grabbed his leg and began again. Sweat was running freely down Challenger's face, Roxton grabbed a cloth and dabbed it away.

"Summerlee, is this good for George? It seems to be putting quite a strain on him," Roxton questioned.

"This is the only way to keep the muscles from becoming too stiff to use. Yes, it is very painful but that is a good sign."

"Torturing me is a good sign, Arthur?" Challenger gasped.

"The pain means your muscles haven't atrophied yet, the torture is just a fringe benefit."

"Well, I'm glad that someone is enjoying my discomfort," Challenger griped.

"Who would ever enjoy seeing you in pain, George?" Roxton smirked.

"When I get the use of my limbs back, Roxton, I will show you enjoyment," Challenger snorted.

The following days droned on just like the many before it. The rains were still coming down steadily after two weeks; all the explorers were beginning to feel the effects of their cabin fever. Marguerite and Veronica were at each other's throats as were Roxton and Marguerite. Summerlee and Challenger wouldn't even look at each other while Summerlee continued with Challenger's therapy.

"Really, John, I don't see where it is any of your business," Marguerite was yelling as she helped him pour gunpowder into the cartridges.

"Marguerite, I was only saying that I thought you should not come with me when I leave to hunt after the rain stops."

"If I want to get out of this hell hole when the rain stops and go hunting who the bloody hell do you think you are to stop me?"

"Marguerite, I…" Roxton began his reply only to be cut off.

"Just drop it, John. We can pick this argument again when the rain stops if it ever does." Marguerite picked up her sewing and stalked off. Summerlee and Challenger were fairing no better.

"Damnit, Arthur, it's been two weeks and I don't see much change. Must you continue tormenting me? It's not doing any good."

"You agreed to do whatever I said for as long as I said and I'm holding you to it. You knew this would not be an easy road, George. You have gotten some use of your leg and I intend to see this through." Summerlee glared angrily.

"At what expense, my life?"

"If need be, George, if need be." A shout from below stopped all arguments.

Roxton and Veronica went to the balcony and peered over. A young Zanga warrior stood in the downpour looking up at them. Marguerite lowered the elevator and the group waited impatiently for it to arrive. The Zanga warrior fell into the treehouse, dripping wet. They get him to a chair and gave him a towel to dry himself off with.

"What would make you come out in this weather?" Roxton asked.

"Our Chief heard about the trouble you had here. The shaman sends this," he held out a medium-sized pouch, "he says you need this right away. I bring."

Summerlee took the pouch and examined the contents. The powder was a thick, pasty yellow substance with a vile odor. He wet the tip of his finger and stuck it into the powder. When he put it to his tongue he made a face like he had just stuck an entire lemon in his mouth, turned his head to the side and spit the powder out.

"What the devil is this stuff?" He asked.

"The shaman only say mix one spoonful with your lavender tea and make the professor drink it each day. It will help make him stronger."

"But surely this could have waited until the rains stopped," Summerlee said.

"Our shaman said you need this now. I bring now. He say this very important and he say professor very important. Shaman also say rains last many days."

"They have lasted for two weeks already how much longer does the shaman think they will last?" Marguerite asked.

"Shaman say rains will last many days longer. Plateau needs much rain."

"Oh great," Marguerite groaned.

"Well you stay here and get warm. I'll give some of this to Challenger while you guys catch up on the Zanga news," Summerlee said as he went into the kitchen.

"How is Assai?" Veronica asked as she handed the warrior something hot to drink.

The group chatted happily with their friend, their earlier arguments with each other quickly forgotten. Summerlee made some tea and carefully mixed the Zanga powder into it. He took it to Challenger who merely glared at him.

"George, you need this. The Zanga shaman sent it for you. Do you want his warrior to go back and tell him you refused his gift?"

"No, I suppose not," Challenger took the offered tea and sipped it. "What the bloody hell did he give you? That makes the lavender tea seem like Champaign."

"Some powder that he says will help you get better."

"Get better or kill me, this is very foul tasting."

"Drink up, George, if this works by the time the rains stop you might be good as new."

"Any thing that will get me off this damned couch and back into my lab," Challenger drank the tea.

Summerlee watched him and tried not to slip back into his guilt. Challenger had been coming along, slowly but surely. He was getting some strength back in his leg but his arm was still giving him trouble. Summerlee tried to keep him in good spirits but they had been arguing more and more lately. He knew Roxton and Challenger were right; that what had happened wasn't entirely his fault but he knew that he was to blame at least partially. Roxton had left the women to the Zanga warrior and he joined the men by the couch.

"How does it taste, George?" Roxton asked, seeing the look on his face.

"Worse than Marguerite's cooking, if you can believe it."

"But you drank it all and have kept it down that is a good sign," Summerlee said.

"That is indeed surprising given the vile taste. Why did that warrior bring this here in this awful rain?" Challenger wanted to know.

"The shaman said it was important you have the powder as soon as possible so he brought it," Roxton replied.

"Foolhardy if you ask me," Challenger said.

"Well then, it's a good thing no one asked you," Roxton sneered.

Suddenly the Zanga warrior remembered something and he jumped up. Searching in his pouch, he found the paper he was looking for and rushed to Summerlee and handed it to him. Summerlee took the paper and read it carefully, glancing at Challenger from time to time.

"What is it, Arthur? What does the paper say?" Challenger asked quizzically.

"Roxton," Summerlee spoke, ignoring Challenger, "get some rope, good strong rope. Veronica, bring some clean cloth torn into a large piece."

"Summerlee, what is it?" Challenger demanded.

"There isn't time to explain now, George. Lie down, quickly."

Summerlee quickly tied Challenger's hands and feet to the ends of the couch with the others looking on in horror. Challenger's eyes showed only fear. He was about to voice his concerns when his entire body seized. He felt the most excruciating pain he had ever felt before. It felt like someone had put him on a spit and was cooking him. The pain radiated from the inside out, searing every tissue, bone and hair on his body.

Challenger opened his mouth to scream and Summerlee shoved the cloth into it. Roxton looked on horrified. Marguerite and Veronica didn't know if they should try to help him or shoot him and put him out of his misery. The Zanga warrior pulled back into a corner, he had seen this many times and was still afraid.

"Summerlee, what the bloody hell is going on?" Roxton asked.

"It's the Zanga remedy. It's some kind of magical healing powder that burns the illness out of its victim. According to this letter, it will get much worse before it's over. But should he live through this he should be cured."

"How long will this continue?" Roxton asked the warrior.

"If he is to die, not long. But if he is to live you will know. He will start to…to…" the warrior stammered not sure of the word he was looking for.

"To what?" Roxton demanded, "will he be jerking, convulsing, what?"

"Yes I believe that is what I want say. He will be con…vulsing. Then he scream and his body jerks like it being torn apart. Then he be still."

"Then what?" Marguerite asked.

"Then he be living or he be not living."

"Oh great, this potion of the shaman's will either cure Challenger or kill him."

For the next two hours the explorers stayed gathered around the couch watching their friend. He had pulled his bonds so tight he had raised off the couch as if he were suspended in air. His face was strained with the effort and he was sweating buckets. Summerlee didn't know he had that much water in his body. They applied cool towels to his body trying to keep him from reaching critical temperature.

"If this goes on much longer, I'm afraid the strain will be too much for him to bear," Summerlee stated.

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Roxton asked.

"I have seen something done before," the warrior replied.

"What is it? Tell me, I'll do anything to stop this," Roxton said.

"It is not easy. One of you must join him and give of your strength. But very dangerous. The chosen one might die too."

"Then I volunteer." Roxton stated.

"The chosen one must be the one who needs to help most. It is not you."

"Who is it then?" Marguerite asked.

The Zanga warrior walked around the couch looking intently at each of the explorers. He paused in front of each one and moved his hands over their head and shoulders. When he had completed his circuit of the group he stopped in front of one of them.

"You. You are the chosen one."

"Him?" Roxton asked, confused.

"This one has the most to gain helping the professor. He must help, he has the darkest aura."

"But Summerlee is an old man," Veronica said, "what if he dies trying to help Challenger?"

They will both live if he does what is needed."

"What do I have to do, young man?" Summerlee asked as he stood straight and tall beside the couch.

The Zanga warrior asked Veronica to bring a cot, which he placed next to the couch and instructed Summerlee to lie down on it. Then the warrior untied one of Challenger's hands and put it in Summerlee's. He told the quiet botanist to grasp his friend's hand, and closing his eyes, to will his strength to flow into Challenger.

Soon Summerlee's body was shaking as hard as Challenger's. His face became a mask of concentration and will power. Both men's muscles were knotted with the effort and their knuckles were turning white. Soon, Challenger's breathing began to slow and his tormented features began to relax.

"That's it, Summerlee, keep it up old boy," Roxton prodded.

The two old friends continued with their journey. Summerlee sending his strength; Challenger gratefully accepting it. They seemed to be locked in a battle with Satan himself. But this battle they were winning. Slowly, ever so slowly, Challenger's body began to relax, and soon he was no longer pulling against the restraints. His breathing had almost returned to normal. The men appeared to be sleeping.

"It is safe to separate them now," the warrior said as he and Roxton unclenched Summerlee's hand from Challenger's.

"Arthur," Marguerite gently shook him, "Arthur."

"Did it work?" He asked tiredly.

"Yes, Arthur we think so."

"I need to talk to him. I need to talk to George," Summerlee sat up and turned to his friend. "George, I don't know if you can hear me or not, but thank you."

"It is I who should be thanking you, Arthur," Challenger whispered.

"No, George, I got a glimpse of your mind and now I finally understand what you and Roxton have been trying to tell me. I have been acting like a horses arse, and I am very sorry."

"Arthur we are all entitled to our moments."

"Hey, look, the rain stopped," Marguerite noticed.

The explorers went to the balcony and looked out. The rain had stopped. The birds were singing and they could hear a T-Rex roar in the distance. The Zanga warrior went to the balcony and, closing his eyes, listened to the sounds of the jungle.

"The plateau is once again at peace. Order has been restored."

"Order? Restored by what?" Marguerite asked.

"Two kindred spirits at odds with each other. Now are rejoined."

"You're talking about Challenger and Summerlee, aren't you?" Roxton asked.

"Yes. A great rift existed between the two. That rift has now been closed. The old one…he has faced his demons and beaten them. The professor…his as well. Your family is back as it once was," The Zanga warrior took his leave and returned to his village after promising Veronica he would tell Assai to come for a visit very soon.

The explorers returned to their treehouse, anxiously waiting for Challenger to wake up. They busied themselves with getting ready for the hunt they would be leaving on as soon as they were certain Challenger would be fine. Roxton readied the rifles and ammunition; Marguerite readied their food supplies while Veronica and Summerlee got the tarps cleaned and ready to carry whatever they caught. No one noticed the figure that appeared at the edge of the kitchen.

"Whatever you're cooking, Marguerite, it smells wonderful," Challenger remarked, leaning heavily on the wall.

"Challenger, you shouldn't be out of bed," Marguerite said as he led him over to the table.

"Nonsense. I've been in bed entirely too long," Challenger replied as he took a seat at the table.

"Roxton!" Marguerite called, "It seems we will be having a guest for dinner."

"What are you bellowing about, Marguerite?" Roxton asked as he entered the kitchen.

"Challenger, what are you doing out of bed?"

"I certainly wish everyone would quit asking me that."

"I thought I heard your voice, George. How are you feeling?" Summerlee asked as he came up to him and checked his pulse.

"I'm fine, Arthur. Just a little sore and very stiff," Challenger replied. "Now, what does a hungry man have to do to get some food around here?"

"Ask and ye shall receive, George." Marguerite put a plate of food in front of him.

"Be careful, George, you don't want to eat too much right away." Summerlee cautioned him.

"I won't, Father," Challenger snickered.

After they had all eaten they gathered in the main room to discuss the upcoming hunt. Challenger knew he wasn't up to the rigors of a hunt yet, but he was just as adamant about having anyone stay behind to care for him. Summerlee volunteered but Challenger insisted he didn't need anymore medical monitoring.

"Arthur, I am fine now, that Zanga remedy really seemed to do the trick. I can take care of my self," Challenger protested.

"George, I really don't think you should be left here by yourself. What if you have a relapse?" Summerlee countered.

"I'm not worried, this storm should have forced a lot of game down from the mountains. You shouldn't be gone for more than a day or two."

"He has got a point, Summerlee, he can get around by himself and if the rest of us go we stand a much better chance of fining some game sooner," Roxton said.

"I would feel better if he had something to occupy his time."

"I can fill my time with repairing my laboratory, which I'm sure has been sorely neglected."

"That reminds me, Challenger," Roxton said, "Marguerite, Veronica and I have a little surprise for you," They helped Challenger to his feet and Marguerite put her hand up to cover his eyes. They walked down the stairs to the laboratory.

"Ok, George you can open your eyes now," Marguerite said as she removed her hand.

Challenger opened his eye and the sight amazed him. Everything was as it always had been. His beakers and test tubes had all been replaced. His notes were once again on the table and the counter. Challenger stiffly walked around the lab, taking it all in. Then his eye fell on the spot where the outer wall of the treehouse had been blown out. There, was the window he had always wanted.

"I don't know what to say. Except thank you, than you very much."

"We thought it might make you happy, George. So do you think you will find something to occupy your time while we go off hunting?" Roxton said, his comments falling on deaf ears.

Challenger was already happily planning new experiments and barely noticed their laughter and he was totally ignorant of the fact that they had left until he looked out his new window and saw them walking up the trail. He watched them as they walked, smiling to himself. Family, they sure can surprise you, he thought as he busied himself with his experiments.