Avatar is the property of people who aren't me. This work of fiction is not authorized by those people.

Parker's footfalls echoed off the walls of the RDA Compound's most clandestine floor. Excepting those who worked in this division, few employees of RDA ever wanted to come to this place. Whereas most of the floors which housed RDA's department leaders were ornately decorated, the hallway housing the Asset Management and Information Security division were barren, black marble, lit merely with lighting strips along the floor and ceiling. Opposite of the elevator bay sat a lone security guard at a stainless steel desk, and behind him a tinted glass door that concealed the offices at the heart of AMIS' worldwide operations.

Many corporate offices – and even government offices – used mid-budget security contractors, but the guard on post at this floor was a veteran of RDA's in-house security force, and he was not riding a desk because of incompetence. Parker guessed that just a few weeks ago, the security guard was engaged in close-quarters combat against terrorists under a Defense Department contract; and he would very likely be deployed in the same capacity a few weeks from now. Protocol mandated that security personnel spend one month on vacation and three months serving in a "low hazard" post for every year of field deployment in order to avoid burning them out. It was one of the draws for security forces on Pandora: Their interstellar travel counted with their on-world tour of duty as time served. Many of them expected when they came home to get a year of paid vacation and three years of cushy, high-paying desk work.

Four out of five of them were dead, now.

Parker knew that the guard was reading him for any sign of hostility just to have an excuse to use his weapon in between deployments. He was direct, and his voice was stern. "Your name, sir?"

"Parker Selfridge. I have an…"

"May I see your ID, sir?"

Parker barely had his badge out of his wallet when the guard snatched it out of his hand. The guard said as he turned the badge at a variety of angles to ensure each security feature was present. Satisfied, he returned the badge, but not without admonishing him. "You are supposed to wear your badge at all times, Mister Selfridge, not keep it in your pocket."

He clipped the badge to his belt. "Thank you…" Parker checked the guard's nametag "…Mister Talbott."

"Sergeant Talbott, sir."

"Sorry."

The sergeant scanned his display screen. "Name of your appointment, Mister Selfridge?"

"Abe Scheller, at seven-o-clock."

The door behind the desk opened, and Abe was standing there. "You're late," he said while holding the door open. Parker assumed Sergeant Talbott might have said the same thing. Abe looked at the guard, frowned, and said, "And so is your relief, Dick. What the hell are you still doing here?"

When Sergeant Talbott turned around, Parker half expected him to berate Abe for being so casual. Instead he just snorted and replied to him like he was an old friend. "Apparently the north-south tram broke down," he said. "Sarah called about five minutes ago, said they just got it moving again."

"Do you get overtime?" The sergeant just laughed, and Abe shook his head. He then turned his attention back to Parker. "Are you coming in?"

"Yeah," he said, and stepped through the door. Abe escorted him back to his office, passing row after row of empty cubicles. "I'm kind of surprised they don't all work as late as you do."

"I force them not to," Abe said. "If you spend too much time looking at the stuff we look at, and doing what we do, it will make you numb."

"And so, what, you're immune?"

Abe shot him a cross look. "I'm conditioned," he said, at the moment that they arrived at his office. "Have a seat."

Parker figured the office probably had a fantastic view of the city and surrounding landscape outside of floor-to-ceiling windows; but those windows had been covered up by layer after layer of dark materials designed to block out all imaginable types of electronic surveillance. The office was also sparsely furnished beyond the executive desk – a few chairs, a coffee table, and twin-seat sofa. Several video panels were mounted on the walls, most of them split-screened to display two news stations apiece. The others were likely in use, but whatever information they displayed Abe had not wanted him to see, as they were hidden under privacy screens.

Abe closed the door once Parker took a seat in front of his desk. However, rather than sit behind his desk, Abe pulled up a chair and sat opposite of him. "I'm sure you know that I presented my Pandora proposal to the Board and division chiefs this morning."

"I was kind of hoping to be invited," Parker said sorely, "since Pandora was kind of my job for a few years."

Abe nodded. "Like you said, it was your job. Just because the public seems to be buying the industrial accident story doesn't mean that the leadership here thinks you're still golden." Parker was a breath away from laying out his own opinions of RDA's management, but Abe continued. "I've been thinking about what you said to me when you got back."

Parker paused. "What did I say?"

"That you were just doing your job," Abe replied casually. "Pandora was humanity's first extra-solar colony, and it also happened to be the first where there was a sapient species. Despite all the laws and treaties and protocols that were issued in the run-up to our settlement, we had no idea what would happen. There is no precedent for a war away from the solar system. We literally threw you into the jungle and expected you to find your way through it." Abe paused. "I don't blame you for being a little upset at becoming a scapegoat."

Although he was taken aback by the admission, he was not at a loss for words. "Thank you," he said. He snorted and said it again, "Thank you. I've been waiting for someone to say that since I got home."

Abe continued without acknowledging his comment. "Chairman Savage wants me to lead the team going back to Pandora. More to the point, he didn't want you to go back there."

Parker furrowed his brow. "Why would you tell me that?"

"Because I think he's wrong." Abe leaned back in his chair. "The chairman thinks things went wrong because you burned out, but I think you were screwed from the get-go. He's sending me because he doesn't want to make the same mistake twice, but by sending someone without any experience back up there, he is."

Parker saw where he was going and raised his hands defensively. "Look, I'm sorry you're stuck with going back to that Hellhole, but you're not passing it to me."

"I'm not asking you to lead the return trip," Abe replied without flinching the least bit at the fact that Parker had caught on. "I'm just asking you to come back."

He laughed. "Not a chance. Besides, the law says you can't force someone to take multiple deep space trips without two years of recuperation."

"There's nothing in the law to prohibit volunteering, though."

Parker crossed his arms, incredulous at the suggestion. "Why would I do that?"

"I need somebody up there who can walk me through your mistakes." He extended an open palm and said, "You're the most likely and best candidate to do that."

"You just said it wasn't my fault."

"No, I said you got the short end of the stick. You still allowed Quaritch to run rampant, and look at how that ended up. I need to know what led you to let him off his leash so I can make sure it doesn't happen again."

Parker shook his head. "I debriefed you," he said with an elevated tone. "I told you that those savages threw everything we offered them back in our faces, and they kept hunting us down. I tried to be diplomatic, and it didn't work. So I did what I had to do to keep the unobtanium coming."

Abe appeared unfazed. "But you agree that Quaritch's solution was out of line, right?"

"We were about to be annihilated."

He nodded slowly. "Yes, and then you were."

Parker sighed and shook his head again. "Look, Pandora's your problem, and you said Savage doesn't want me to go back there. So I'm not going."

Abe tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, then reached over and took a worktablet off of his desk. Most of these tablets were translucent – the contents readable, albeit in reverse, from an observer – however, the back of Abe's was red-tinted. His fingers moved quickly over the tablet, scanning through information, the contents of which Parker could only guess. "The gap in the refinery explosion story," he said after a few moments of scanning, "is that Pandorium is a fairly stable element to refine. That's why it makes such a good energy source – it's stable under manageable temperatures and pressures. It's not something that will just blow up."

"It was your brainchild of a cover-up," Parker replied. "That's your fault, not mine."

"I thought you gave a good answer to the reporter who asked about sabotage. You're just lucky he didn't ask about gross negligence."

Parker tried furiously to guess what Abe was looking at. "Okay, I guess I was. Why?"

"Pandorium may not spontaneously combust, but there are enough moving parts in a refinery that require constant maintenance, or they will go up." Abe looked up from his tablet. "Can you say for certain that you never denied a critical maintenance request because your fabrication labs were too busy manufacturing weapons?"

The silence was palpable. "You don't have proof of that," Parker finally said.

"Who knows what I'll find on the logs back at Hell's Gate? I'm sure Doctor Augustine's survivors will have taken great pains to maintain the evidence of your screw ups."

Parker exploded. "The accident was a cover up, you idiot!" he shouted. "There isn't any evidence like that, because it didn't happen!"

"So when I return from Pandora and present the evidence in support of our story, you're going to go public with the real story?" He paused before continuing. "They may believe you, and RDA will look bad for engaging in a cover up. I may even go to jail for it. Savage will probably go to jail for it. You, on the other hand, will be crucified."

He was still angry, but for entirely different reasons, now. "You know, most people don't usually tell the people they're going to set up that they're going to set them up."

"And most people don't need me to spell out for them why they ought to listen to me in the first place," Abe replied. He set the tablet back on his desk, exchanging it for a folder. He withdrew a form and handed it to Parker. "It will look better if you volunteer."

Parker took his time to look over the form. It was a release to waive RDA of its obligations to keep him grounded for two years. He thought about his options, then he asked, "Do you have a pen?"

Abe pulled into his driveway and took a fair amount of time before leaving the car. He had been working late on the proposal every night for the last week, so he did not expect Krysta to raise a fuss over him coming home at this hour – relative to the other nights, he was coming home early. However, he hadn't yet told her how his presentation before the chairman went.

He felt his heart beat faster as he approached the front door. How would she take the news? He had seen her work under pressure time and time again without getting worked up, but would that hold true tonight?

She opened the door before he could get his keys out and greeted him with a warm smile. "Hey there, Stranger."

He offered a smile back. "Hi," he said, then placed a hand on her cheek and leaned in to kiss her. She took him by his jacket lapels and pulled him into the house and closed the door behind them.

Although he was tired, he was more than willing to let this continue on and avoid breaking the news to her, but Krysta disengaged. "You have something to hide, don't you?"

"What makes you say that?"

She playfully poked him in the stomach. "You were anxious." He raised an eyebrow, eliciting a short laugh from her. "Kissing is like sex. I know when your heart – or any other part of you – isn't in it."

"Ah," he said with a slight nod.

"So, I assume it has something to do with your presentation today. Did the Savage slap it down?"

"No, he liked it," he replied as he slipped out of her grip and walked towards the kitchen. "He loved it, actually."

"Great. You've undoubtedly saved Mankind. What are you worried about?"

He pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. "Well, he had some changes."

"Of course," she replied as she joined him in the kitchen. "That's how he makes himself think it was all his idea."

Abe paused. "Is Natalie home?"

"No, she had a sleepover tonight." Her tone became more concerned. "Abe, what's wrong? What did he do?"

He downed a few sips of beer before he responded. "He liked my plan so much that he wants me to head it up." He paused for her reaction, but drove the point home when he was met with silence. "On Pandora. Chairman Savage wants me to go to Pandora."

Krysta let out a short laugh, then shook her head. "No. No, that's bullshit. You blew him off, right?"

"I brought up my disqualifying factors…"

"Abe!" she interrupted. "You looked in his fat face and told him to fuck off, right?"

He couldn't bring himself to respond. She went slackjawed.

"Uh-uh," she managed after a long silence. "No. No, Abe, you are not going to do this."

"Krysta…"

"No!" She walked out of the kitchen, but kept shouting. "You are not going to that God-forsaken planet!"

He followed after her. "You don't think I tried to get out of it? You really think I could have just said, 'Thanks, but no thanks,' and kept my job?"

"Don't make this about the money, Abe!" she snapped back. She turned to face him. "Your job is to fix things on this planet, not fly off and clean up somebody else's shit on some distant moon. In case you haven't forgotten, you have a family here!"

The anger he felt over the day's events finally boiled over. "I know that!" he yelled. "Do you think I'm happy about this? Do you think I ever conceived of going to Pandora? That I want to go?"

"It would be convenient for you though, wouldn't it?" she replied. "You spend all your time at the Compound anyway, I bet it will be real easy for you to just forget about me and Natalie after you fly off."

He slapped her.

She slapped him.

They stared at each other in tense silence for what felt like minutes until Krysta finally fell to her knees, sobbing. He went to his knees and wrapped his arms around her. She cried into his shoulder. "You can't," she would say when she could catch her breath.

It was late in the night before they could manage to talk to each other without succumbing to baser emotions. He lay on a couch in the entertainment room, and she on his chest. "She'll be twenty-two when you come home," Krysta said. "She'll have lived more of her life without you than having you here."

"They're working on some kind of real-time communication," Abe offered weakly. "I know it would be years before I would talk to her, but it would be something."

"What if she's in the hospital?" she looked up at him. "She always asks for you when she's in the hospital, and you're always there. Now you won't be."

"You tell her that I'm asking the Na'vi for their help to find a cure. It wasn't bullshit about the pharmaceuticals – or at least not all of it."

Krysta let out a short laugh. "After what Quaritch did, they'll cure you of having a head on top of your neck."

He shook his head. "I don't know how to tell her," he said, his voice full of resignation. "I try to think about it, but I can't get the words right."

"You have to," she said, almost pleaded, in response. "I can't be your cover for this. It's one thing to say, 'Oh, well, Daddy has really important work at the office tonight,' but to say, 'Oh, well, Daddy has to leave for thirteen years,' I just can't do that."

"I know," he said with a sigh. "I'm not going to tell her right away, though. I'm not leaving for three months, maybe even four or five if things go wrong. She deserves to not be worried for all of that time."

"Just don't wait until the last minute," she cautioned. "She'll never get over that." She paused. "I'll never get over that."

He brushed her hair aside and kissed her on the forehead. "I promise I won't wait until the last minute." In total defiance of his nature to insist that everything work according to detailed plans, Abe found himself praying that his departure was delayed to the furthest possible future.

First there were shouts of alarm, and then Norm turned his head to see the Na'vi scattering away from the falling section of fence. "Shit," he muttered.

Max shook his head. "Third time that's happened with this crew. Now you know they're doing it on purpose."

"I don't think they'd be too upset if a pack of viperwolves stormed through the breach right now," Norm replied. He sighed then walked over to the warriors who were treating the collapse of the fence section with little urgency.

As he approached, the implicit leader of the group of Na'vi said, "Moel ngeyä txoa plängawm," with all the sincerity of a child professing innocence with her hand caught with a hand in the cookie jar. She may have been asking for his forgiveness, but she couldn't care less if she got it or not.

He wanted to snap back at her, but no matter how much time he spent around the Na'vi, Norm was never completely comfortable with the idea of inviting the anger of ten-foot tall warriors; especially not when out of his avatar, which had long ago rotted away in Pandora's jungle.

Norm responded to her in their tongue, "Just pay more attention to what you're doing."

"We know what we are doing," another of the Na'vi spoke up. "We are wasting time we could be using to train ourselves, to hunt for our people, to protect you aliens. Why could you not have left with the other Sky People?"

He bit his tongue and ducked the question. "If you keep making mistakes, then you will be here 'helping' us for a longer time. Help us finish this quickly, then you can go back to your home and not worry about us anymore."

"No," the female leader said with a hiss. "We will always worry about you. Jakesully says you will bring back more warriors with more terrible weapons. We always have to worry. How nice that he makes us build this fence for you so you do not have to worry."

"If we are all eaten because a palulukan breaks through our fence, then we won't be able to help you fight off the warriors," he replied.

At that moment, Norm heard the sound of a banshee land behind him, and turned to see Jake dismounting the large animal. "Are they giving you problems, Norm?" he asked as he approached.

"No," he replied. "We were just going over the plan one more time."

Jake was clearly unconvinced. He looked at his warriors and said sternly, "If I have to tell you again to take this seriously, you will not like the consequences."

"Is there another alien species you will have us mother?" one of the warriors asked and, by the way Norm saw his face drop, instantly regretted.

Jake snarled and approached the offending Na'vi, but before he could exact a punishment, Norm called out in English, "Forget it, Jake. It's not going to get this done any faster."

He paused, a mere foot away from the upstart male, then after a few moments, stepped away. "Get back to work!" he shouted, and the Na'vi immediately set about repairing the broken section.

Norm walked with him down the now-overgrown tarmac towards Max, whose expression was of total amusement. "It's good to see you've settled into your leadership role, Jake."

"Yeah, well, sometimes it needs reinforcing," he said with a sigh. He looked over his shoulder at the warriors at work. "Again, sorry I couldn't send over a more dedicated crew. But I think you can understand why their enthusiasm is low."

"We're just glad for the help – any help," Norm offered. "We've made good progress, and we may even finish ahead of schedule, despite the 'setbacks.'"

Jake looked around the base. "So when are you planning to move the gun turrets in?"

Norm and Max crossed glances, then Norm replied, "We weren't. As long as the fence does its job, we're not going to slaughter any animal that challenges it."

"I'm not thinking about the animals," Jake said.

"I know," Norm said. "We still have a good five years. We can move of the turrets once we have the basics taken care of."

Jake shook his head. "You don't want to wait until the last minute and find yourself scrambling for anti-air power when their ships come in for a landing."

Norm pondered that, but decided not to respond. Instead he indicated the warriors, "Maybe they'll move a little more quickly when they're hauling guns instead of fence parts."

Jake let out a short laugh. "Maybe you're right."

Max interrupted, "Hey, Jake, it's good to see you, but I need to check on the fabrication lab. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure thing, Max," Jake said as the doctor walked inside.

"Maybe that's not a bad idea," Norm said to Jake once Max was out of earshot. "What if you took the turrets back to the clan?"

Now Jake let out a stronger laugh, one that turned the heads of the warriors for a brief moment. "Neytiri and Mo'at have gone to great lengths to sanctify our new home. If I brought in machinery, olo'eyktan or not, they'd murder me."

Norm paused. "How is Neytiri? Have you and she…"

Jake crossed his arms, "No." He sighed. "She's taking it better than I am. She says it's not unheard of for couples to have children long after they've mated, but that's not good enough for me."

Norm shrugged. "Maybe it is just a matter of time. I mean, my parents were old as dirt when they had me."

Jake raised an eyebrow. "How old were they?"

"Mom was thirty-four, Dad was thirty-five."

Jake laughed again. "All right, well, I'll be sure to tell Neytiri that, by the Spellman model, it may be another twelve years before we're successful."

"Well, keep in mind that your avatar body is only ten or eleven years old, so it may be even longer than that," Norm said with a smirk.

"Yeah, I think I'll leave that part out." They were quiet for a few moments. "I should get back. I just wanted to check up on you." He gave Norm a pat on the back that, while Jake might have perceived it as light, almost knocked him over. Seemingly unaware of that, Jake walked back to his banshee, and with the grace of a warrior who had been at it his whole life, formed the tsahaylu and mounted the beast. "My communicator still works, so let me know if I need to come back and get them in line."

"Sure thing." Jake nodded and, with a running start, the banshee took off and was out of sight over the jungle canopy in seconds.

Norm stood there for minutes on end as his mind began to recall more and more images of his parents. Memories from his childhood flooded over him. Norm had been homesick a few times after first arriving on Pandora, but he hadn't experienced it in years. Now, having broached the subject of family bonds with Jake, he felt unable to escape it.

Worse, he suddenly felt alone.

He was startled out of his thoughts, however, when his vision was obstructed by the female Na'vi who had so dispassionately asked for his forgiveness. "Have you gone deaf, Sky Person?"

"Huh?"

"That part of the fence is finished, by your instructions. Are we done for the day?"

Norm looked over his shoulder and, indeed, the broken fence was mended. He approached it for a closer inspection, but seeing no obvious signs of sabotage, he nodded his head. "It's too late to start on another section, so yes. You are done for the day."

The warriors walked back towards the old avatar quarters, muttering amongst themselves. Norm shook his head. They might not be friends, but at least they were at peace.

"It has to count for something," he said to the wind. "It damn well better."