By the Dawn's Early Light

By 1st endeavor

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1:

Spoilers: "Sabotage" and "Convergence"

A/N: As always, I appreciate your reviews and alerts.

"Any form of corporal punishment is a violent attack upon another human being's integrity. The effect remains with the victim forever and becomes an unforgiving part of his or her personality-a massive frustration resulting in a hostility which will seek expression in later life in violent acts towards others. Ashley Montagu

Chapter 21:

Larry sighed audibly and closed his cell phone; slipping it back into his pants pocket as he wearily made his way to the kitchen in search of a much needed cup of tea. It was soooo like Charles to ignore his calls when he was working on a problem…..or perhaps, he thought excitedly, his friend had had another breakthrough on his Cognitive Emergence Theory. The last time Charlie had pulled an "all-nighter" at CalSci he had just moved into his new office and had written equations all over the unpacked boxes that had been stacked about the room. The tired professor paused and stared blankly at the counter…. now that was an exciting thought…. wouldn't it be marvelous if Charles had gotten another brainstorm? Smiling at the prospect he opened the cupboard door to grab a mug and a teabag. Absently, he filled the mug with water and popped it into the microwave for sixty seconds then plopped the teabag into the hot water. A plate filled with chocolate chip cookies caught his eye and he helped himself to one and munched on it while his teabag steeped for a few minutes longer.

Finally, cup in hand, along with a couple of more cookies he pushed through the swinging door of the kitchen and made his way toward the solarium. The rustle of his jeans seemed loud to his ears as he walked through the quiet house and a feeling of uneasiness washed over him. He couldn't put his finger on it but he had the strangest feeling that something was very wrong.

"Perhaps it's the case that's causing me to feel this way," he mused as he made his way up the stairs to the second floor. At the top of the stairway he turned to the left and approached the solarium. The professor switched on the overhead light and glanced around the room; with a plank floor and windows for walls, it gave one the impression that you were outdoors but with all of the comforts of being inside. Larry looked around and smiled; this room above all others welcomed him like an old friend.

After setting his cup and cookies on the small table next to the sofa he wandered over to the corner of the room where Alan had said the boxes should be and sat down cross-legged on the floor. His eyes drifted toward the windows and the physicist paused to look up at the stars; he clearly understood why Charlie liked to work out here. From his position on the floor he could look up and gaze at the heavens or glance down and view the beautifully landscaped back yard. Momentarily distracted by the view his thoughts drifted back to the time when he was orbiting the earth on the space station. It had been the experience of a lifetime and one that had left an indelible mark on him forever; a sense of awe that would stay with him for the rest of his life.

Larry shook himself out of his reverie and opened the first box. It held papers and letters from faculty and friends as well as a number of Charlie's dissertations; not wanting to intrude on his friend's privacy he quickly closed the lid and moved on to the next box. This one was more promising but just when he was beginning to think that he had another wrong box, the yearbooks turned up. He stacked the three books on the floor and quickly refilled the box with the ones that he had removed, then picking up the books he stiffly rose to his feet and shuffled over to the old couch.

The professor slipped off his shoes and sat down; tucking his feet beneath him. He spotted an old afghan that was lying across the back of the sofa and spread it out over his legs then sighing contentedly he picked up his teacup and took a sip of the warm liquid.

"Ah, just what I needed, "he thought as he relaxed and pulled Charlie's senior yearbook into his lap.

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Don's normally stoic attitude was beginning to crumble; he was not a man to panic easily but any hope of saving his brother's life was quickly spiraling out of his reach. Over the years of working with the FBI he had successfully helped rescue many people from an assortment of hostage situations and it galled him to think that he might fail in the one case where the victim meant so much to him. The fact that he was a prisoner too was just an excuse; one that he was not willing to accept….there had to be a way out…a way out for both of them. He felt helpless; all of the skills and experience that he had gained during his career suddenly seemed useless; if they couldn't help him save his brother then what had it all been for?

The theme song from "Taxi" echoed around the room followed by the voices of some of its stars, Judd Hirsch, Marilu Henner and Christopher Lloyd. The old sitcom happened to be a favorite of his but tonight it held no joy for him; he had ears only for the discussion taking place by the blackboard in front of him. The painful throbbing in his legs had finally given way to a dull ache clearing his mind enough to follow the current conversation between his brother and the crazy man holding them captive.

Charlie was once again standing next to one of the whiteboards; there were dark circles beneath his eyes and lines of pain were etched into his pale face. He held his body rigid in an effort to keep the worst of the agonizing spasms at bay but he wasn't always successful. Intermittent tremors would shake his body and he would squeeze his eyes shut; clamping his jaw tightly until the pain had passed.

In a strained voice he rattled off another answer in response to a question from his former professor. If Schiller noticed his discomfort he was ignoring it; the man appeared to be in his own world, slipping in and out of teacher mode as he demanded theories, algorithms, and solutions to complex problems from his brother. Charlie had to do the calculations in his head and if he was too slow Ludwig would list his answers, even though correct, in the failures column. This usually triggered a debate between the two men and although Schiller would listen to the younger man's arguments he would never change the mark that he had put on the board.

Don could tell that Charlie's injuries were slowing him down; there were times when he would bring his bound hands up to his mouth, fists clenched tightly, and tap his lips nervously as he desperately sought for the answers. It was a losing battle though because despite his brother's best efforts, the list of failures was growing at an alarming rate and Ludwig was giving them higher ratings than Charlie's achievements. Clearly, Schiller had already decided on the outcome of this charade despite his brother's impressive body of work.

Don was amazed by the number of articles, published papers and awards that his younger brother had amassed in his short years, twice the amount that he had seen at the crime scenes of the other victims but even they weren't enough to satisfy Schiller.

Sadly, he realized that he knew very little of his brother's accomplishments and now he regretted it deeply. His eyes flitted over the whiteboard looking for anything familiar and came to rest on an award called "The Milton Prize" but he remembered the name because Amita had won it a few years ago, not because his brother had won it when he was just fourteen. "I should have known about it," he berated himself bitterly, "I should have known that my little brother had won such a prestigious award." But Don had been too busywith his own life and trying to put as much distance as he could between himself and his "genius" younger brother to take notice of anything that Charlie was doing.

Don continued to scan the board and paused at another entry. A paper that Charlie had published while he was at MIT called " H Infinity Control of Non-Linear Systems" but , as before, he only remembered it because someone that he had been working with on a case recognized his brother and mentioned the paper.

"Wait," he thought anxiously, whipping his head around, "what did Schiller just say?"

"You lose points for the "Eppes Convergence" in 2005." Schiller said marking in another failure on the whiteboard and adding ten more points to the failure column. He walked over to the blackboard and pushed the failures up higher on the graph then turned back around to face the younger man. "Another mathematician….ah," he paused as he read over his notes, "a Marshall Penfield discovered a flaw in the infinite dimensional simplex. Hmm…it does appear that he had a valid point in the end point process on the one dimensional lattice."

"Yes…but….but I resolved that issue a few days later," Charlie anxiously countered, his voice raising an octave in panic. "The variation I came up with negated the need for the flawed section so the Eppes Convergence still holds as a solid mathematical theory. I named it the Penfield Variation," he swallowed hard and then hastily added, "and...and that should easily offset the ten points that you added to the failure column."

"Hmm….perhaps. I shall consider your evaluation." Ludwig responded thoughtfully then began to pace back and forth in front of the windows while he pondered the matter.

Don gaped in surprise at his brother while his thoughts whirled back to the year 2005. Penfield had found a flaw in Charlie's big breakthrough and yet he had never heard a word about it. Why hadn't Charlie told him? Not that he could have helped in any way, most of Charlie's work was way over his head but he would have listened and offered support. They had been working together on a home invasion case so he certainly had plenty of opportunity to bring it up and yet he had never said a word about it. Don glanced aside; Charlie must have been really freaked out by it but had continued to work on the case anyway….and what had Don done? His face suddenly reddened as he remembered how hard that he had pushed his brother during the case and all the while Charlie had been dealing someone who was ripping apart his life's work. "Oh, buddy, I'm so sorry. I should have been there for you." He thought guiltily. Suddenly the agent caught a quick motion out of the corner of his eye and he looked up as Schiller almost tripped over something lying on the floor.

Swearing irritably Ludwig kicked Don's jacket out of his way. Two pairs of dark eyes anxiously followed its course as it slid across the wooden floor and landed in a crumpled heap within inches of Charlie's feet.

Barely daring to breathe, the young professor looked away to prevent Schiller from noticing his interest in the jacket. It was so close….if only he could just reach down and pick it up. He knew the key to Don's handcuffs would be in the lower right hand pocket; his brother was predictable that way. The agent was organized almost to the point of obsession and knew exactly where he put everything. The key was no exception; Don always kept in the right hand pocket of whatever he happened to be wearing.

Charlie glanced furtively at his brother and their eyes locked; along with the pain reflected in their brown eyes there was now a glimmer of light, a vestige of hope for the first time since their nightmare had begun.

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A soft smile crossed Larry's face as he ran his hand fondly over the front of the book; his fingers stopping to trace the black and orange shield that was embossed in the middle of the cover. He opened the book and slowly turned the pages as his old memories began to surface. Photographs of the campus adorned the first few pages and Jadwin Hall, the main physics building caught his eye. He scratched his beard as he thought of the many science experiments that he had performed at the Elementary Particles Laboratory and Palmer Halls facilities located there. The majority of them had been successful but there had also been failures. Larry taught his students that the failed experiments were just as important as the successful ones; discoveries were made through trial and error, he always told them, for you could not have one without the other.

He turned the pages slowly, reliving his years at Princeton through the photographs of the faculty, students and the campus. Larry chuckled softly, despite the fact that he had always insisted that he didn't have many friends while he was at Princeton, Charlie had somehow managed to get an impressive amount of people to autograph his yearbook. There were signatures from his fellow students and the faculty at Princeton on almost every page but then, he reflected thoughtfully, who would miss the opportunity to sign the yearbook of someone that everyone predicted would be the next Einstein? He turned the page and found the perfect example of his assessment; Marshall Penfield and Charlie had been bitter rivals and his signature was the last one that Larry would have expected to find in his yearbook.

To Eppesy:

I 'm sure that we will meet again and I will keep my button "Don't believe the hype!" on hand for future use."

Marshall Penfield

It was amazing how a few years passage could turn things around; both men had come to terms with their feelings and had not only worked together on two of Don's cases but now held a mutual respect for one another's work. With a slight shake of his head at the turn of events Larry flipped over another page and then laughed out loud at the message he found written there.

To Charlie,

As you have been sliding down the banister of your life, I hope I've been a splinter in your career. Ha! Ha! Seriously, it's been a pleasure knowing you and I hope our friendship will continue to grow in the coming years. Keep in touch.

Your friend,

Tommy Hill

(P.S. I can't believe that a kid five years younger than me is graduating a year ahead of me…oh, the shame!)

Larry picked up a cookie and nibbled at it thoughtfully; during their years at Princeton, Tom and Charlie had become inseparable. It was as if Tom had taken on the role of a big brother and had stayed connected even when their chosen fields put them in different classes. They had kept in touch after graduation and their friendship had only grown stronger.

A yawn escaped his lips and he rubbed at eyes clouded with fatigue before turning the remaining pages and closing the book. The professor picked up the next yearbook, Charlie's junior year, and began to flip through the pages. Almost immediately another signature caught his eye; Henri Yang, one of the murder victims.

Immediately his thoughts turned back to the case; if one victim had signed his friend's book it was reasonable to assume that Charles had shared classes with the other victims as well. Larry sat up straighter and in a more subdued mood focused his search on the names of the murder victims. He found them all, of course, but they were in different classes; a few had joined the same clubs but never more than two of them. He closed that book and picked up the remaining yearbook. Charlie had skipped his sophomore year by taking the necessary classes he needed while he was still a freshman so the professor would have to research that year on-line.

Larry's eyelids were getting heavy but he tried to fight the fatigue as he flipped open the cover of the last book. He shifted his position in an effort to get more comfortable; propping his elbow on the arm of the couch he leaned his head against his hand. After a short while his head became heavier but he stubbornly continued to press on; bleary-eyed he forged ahead and slowly turned the pages of the book. Just as he turned to the page containing the photograph of Charlie and the other victims his hand suddenly went limp, covering the very photograph that would provide the answers to the case. Larry's head dropped back against the sofa and his other arm drifted to his side as his body sagged back against the cushions.

A soft snore echoed around the small solarium as the professor drifted off to sleep; his hand still nestled between the pages of the book.

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Charlie viewed it as a two-part problem. One, he needed a way to get the key from his brother's jacket without arousing any suspicion and two; he had to get the key to his brother. He resisted an over-whelming desire to drop to his knees and get the key by keeping a wary eye on Schiller as he paced back and forth. The man appeared to be arguing with someone, presumably his other self, on whether or not he should give Charlie any more points for "The Eppes Convergence."

His thoughts drifted back to the problem at hand; getting the key. Charlie glanced down briefly, noting the position of the jacket as an idea began to form in his mind. Saying it wouldn't be easy was a huge understatement but his plan just might be a way to resolve the first problem; the second one wouldn't matter if his attempt was unsuccessful.

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It was a two-part problem as Don saw it. One, Charlie had to find a way to get the key without Schiller realizing what he was doing and two: his brother had to figure out a way to put the key in his hands.

Don glanced sideways at Schiller as he paced back and forth then lowered his head, considering their options. All Charlie had to do was take a couple of steps backward and he would be standing on the jacket but the hard part was bending down to get the key without being noticed. There just might be a way, he mused as an idea came to him, it would be risky but it would be worth it if Charlie was successful; he would worry about the second part of the problem later. His head jerked up suddenly; his eyes narrowing suspiciously when Ludwig came to a standstill in front of the windows.

Decision made, Schiller suddenly turned and strode back to the whiteboard. He was in a highly agitated state and both brother's watched him warily as he stopped in front of Charlie.

"I have decided to award you five points for your variation." He announced imperiously, then turned and rapidly wriote the points on the board.

Charlie opened his mouth to reply but gave the man a quick nod instead; there was no point in trying to reason with the man, he had lost his sanity long before his arrival at CalSci. Charlie licked his lips and ducked his head, still working on a way to get his hands on the key but jumped suddenly when Schiller abruptly bolted toward his desk.

Schiller picked up Charlie's book "The Attraction Equation: Being Popular is as Easy as Pi," and turned to face the young mathematician. He waved the book over his head triumphantly, as if it was the verification that he needed to prove his point.

"It is time to discuss this monstrosity!" Ludwig said scornfully, his eyes narrowing menacingly as he gazed at the young man.

TBC