Unstable Elements

by C.T.II

Simon and Jeanette's relationship becomes rocky and they discover an ancient part of their people's past.

3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The guard studied the monitor with an intensity generally reserved for violent criminals and the like. He tolerated computers well enough, but when they didn't do what he wanted them to do, like work, for example, then he entertained thoughts of caving in the monitor with a ball-peen hammer and melting the rest with a flamethrower.

Like tonight.

He decided not to risk a dismissal over a fit of pique and settled in his chair to continue reading his romance novel. He liked the solitude and the quiet of his post, night after night. The place was always clean and nothing untoward ever happened to him or anyone there. 'Guards everywhere should have posts like this,' he thought as he wrapped his mind around the latest plot complication of the heroine.

Because of the size of the campus and the regulated activities of everyone there, security was rather light, so he was the only one in the security station with only one other patrolling the halls of the Science Building.

The security station faced the lobby and the wide front windows that commanded views of the Quad and other buildings in the campus. The lighting outside was sufficient for him to see anyone moving outside the main doors, so he simply took an occasional glance up at his leisure.

He put down the book and looked at the monitor with its still frozen screen of now useless data. He couldn't believe that something as small as an hourglass icon could get him into such a simmering, murderous funk. Yet he continued to stare at a program that still hadn't finished running and continued to forget the flowery intrigue of his book with every angry sigh of frustration.

If he was still reading, he might have missed seeing someone crossing the Quad and approach his building. As it was, he soon saw movement outside that made him look past the monitor.

Jeanette marched the paths along the Quad, deep in thought. She wished it was the shower she took earlier, after she arrived at her dorm or simply insomnia that made it almost impossible for her to fall asleep.

Her discovery in the office was still fresh in her mind. That and another image that persisted. A reason for the object being there.

'Revenge or retribution,' she thought, wincing to the fact that she was starting to sound like Professor Maywood a bit. But the possibility of such an act was becoming too likely. Almost perfect. That scared her because, if it were true, than she would have been the cause of what was likely to happen next, if it hadn't happened already.

But that was later. Or could be later. The more pressing fact that she found what she found, could not, for all the world, be ignored. So she decided that she would research the matter of her suspect. Know as much about them as possible so as to ascertain a reason for their actions.

Which was why she found herself sneaking across campus in the middle of the night, thankful not to have run into any patrols. She couldn't, in good conscience, let Arthur, other MunkTechs or any corporate officers know what she was doing. They were busy with enough concerns without more to cogitate upon.

Jeanette rehearsed her con right up until she reached the main door intercom. She pressed the call button and took a deep breath.

"Yes,"answered the guard, his naturally high voice made buzzy from the speaker. Jeanette gulped as she detected an irritation to the voice that preceded it by a mile.

'Don't blow this'"Uh, I, uh, was sent to do some last minute...debugging of the computers in the labs?"

"Who are you and who sent you?"the guard asked in a huff.

"Who am I?"she repeated, though it sounded more like a genuine question. She was drawing a blank and was about to panic until she remembered again what she wore.

On her tunic was an identification plaque with the I.T.O. logo embossed. Beside the logo was an I.D code that belonged to her for the duration of her being a temporary MunkTech. The access she needed to get into the labs in secret was on her all along. Inwardly, she thanked Arthur.

"I'm MunkTech MT-0001,"she announced with some confidence. There was no response on the other end and nervousness tickled her stomach. She was wondering what to do next when she heard the main doors unlock.

"You can wait in the lobby until the computer confirms you, ma'am,"the voice tiredly squeaked from the 'com. Jeanette sighed relievedly and obeyed him.

She sat down on one of the scaled-down couches and watched him fiercely stare at the monitor, tap keys in frustration and look under the desk to pull and check line connections he couldn't hope to understand. She'd seen body language like that before, performed by Miss Miller and her sisters. She called it The Luddite's Limbo.

She also saw a way to help out that might help smooth things along, as well.

"Uh, sir,"she said,"I could help you with that. After all, I was sent here to do repairs."

"Yeah?"he asked, after he gave up trying."I tried to get off this screen and it just froze on me. If you can fix this, I'll really appreciated it."

She didn't need further coaxing to know that this was her cue. With a patient, sympathetic smile, she stood up."I'll see what I can do."

The guard gave Jeanette the floor while he stepped to the side and allowed her to work. 'This is easy, 'she thought, 'A reboot ought to do it.' She reached around and turned off the computer and then turned it on again.

As the operating system came back to life, she distracted the guard with chit-chat."Yours isn't the only one having problems like this. Administration almost lost all of their files."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. I told them they shouldn't tie all of the computers into one network without having sufficient back-ups installed. But would they listen? No!"

"Bureaucrats!"the guard interjected."They think they know it all. I tell ya, if I.T.O. wasn't paying so good, I'd be over at DuPont in a shot."

"I hear you,"she agreed. Then something happened on the screen suddenly. One moment there was a menu and now there were windows popping up all over. 'I must have clicked a file by mistake. I better clear it.'

She moved the cursor to the on-screen option to "clear" when she scanned the foremost window inadvertently. On the screen, the words: Security Override Code:Denton-Ipswitch/7811,was displayed. For some reason she wanted to remember that. She always believed in wasting nothing and any information was important, especially now.

She cleared the screen and the homepage appeared again."Here you go. All done."

The guard looked impressed."Already? Boy! That was quick."

"It was nothing. It just needed to reboot, that's all."she said as she let the guard return to his terminal and she stood to the side, anxiously waiting.

The guard entered her code and waited. A tone came from its speakers. Then another, higher in register.

It was the second sound that shook her. Thoughts of "Access Denied",written in unmistakable finality across her digitized picture, flashed in her head.

"Okay, Jeanette,"he said officiously,"It says that you are a MunkTech...on temporary status, but you're a MunkTech."

"See?"

"The problem is that there's no confirmation of a work order stating that repairs are to be done here."

Jeanette fought back the panic of a failed plan and struggled to keep the con going. If it works for Alvin and Brittany..."Well, that's true, but only because..."'Think, girl! Think!'"Because...I told you, the computers were all tied into one network without enough back-ups. Even the phones were affected. There were no calls at all coming in or going out of Administration. They probably didn't get a chance to upload the work order to your station, that's all,"she answered breathlessly. 'I hope he buys it.'

The Guard suddenly looked pained, like a mouse who ran amaze all his life and then suddenly ran into a new one. He was lost and looked it."Err, y'think so?"

Jeanette felt like a predator seeing weak prey."Oh, yes, sir,"she said in mock sincerity,"As long as we MunkTechs are on duty, we have to be alert to breakdowns. That's why Arthur Duval sent me personally to-"

"Mr. Duval? The boss's son? He sent you?"he sputtered.

"Yeah...I mean...Yes! It's a good thing your terminal's working now. I heard that he was doing a surprise inspection tomorrow. You might have been going to DuPont sooner than you thought,"she scolded conspiratorially.

"Well, then...I guess I owe ya then. Thanks,"he said with solemnity."Look, if you need to go to the labs, I'll let you in. I'll tell the other guard on patrol that you'll be upstairs."

Jeanette smiled at the guard, both in relief and ingratitude."Thank you, sir."

The office door opened slowly. A figure slipped in and silently scanned the interior, looking for any changes within. No one was present and everything was as last checked. Eyes zeroed in on the eyeglasses case on the desk intently, studiously, for several minutes.

The figure then quickly heeled around and went to the door, satisfied. A fast glance down either end of the hall showed no one to watch the figure slipping away.

Despite their infamy, or perhaps because of it, Jeanette didn't have to wait long for a search engine to find it. Some one hundred articles scrolled down the screen, all pertaining to the anti-Chipmunk hate group, Humanity's Hand.

It disgusted her just to look at them, but she needed the research. She was positive that they were the ones that left what they left in the office.

Jeanette chose the first pertinent article. It was from an archive of police arrests from a nationwide crime database.

Those convicted, all Humans of varying ethnicities, an irony not lost to her, had been recorded saying such platitudes as,"A good rodent's a dead one","Business as usual","Interspecies relationships are doomed to failure","Go back to the woods" and "Why not?"

They were stopped by joint police and Interpol efforts in secret worldwide stings that halted, in one particular arrest, the wholesale kidnapping, killing, skinning and Black Market selling of Chipmunk pelts.

Jeanette felt ill immediately and returned to the list of articles. People say only Humans can be, by definition, inhumane. What these people, who dedicated their lives to this madness, did, defied definition. She thought that those who did that sort of thing didn't deserve living.

Then she caught herself at that moment, shocked. It was a dark opinion brought on by watching a dark Human deed and it turned her soul to stone momentarily. She shook her head to free herself of thoughts of indignation that came to life almost before she could control them.

She chose another. An autobiography of a Hand member listing secret atrocities committed by her and others in visceral detail. Shock made Jeanette hollow.

She robotically chose another and another, her head and heart fighting a pitched battle. The former, championing Morbid Curiosity. The latter, Morality and Righteous Indignation.

Another one, showing a statistic of Urbanized Chipmunk deaths rising higher than Rural ones, with Humanity's Hand as a factor in the increase. Every article she speed-read was more painful than the last and each time she stomached another report, she began to feel an angry numbness, a black desire for an unanswered justice long overdue.

She clicked the mouse again, expecting another dire tale of uncalled-for persecution and unnatural death. What she got was HumanityHand.com.

"They have their own website,"she muttered despondently.

The terminal was equipped with a soundcard and a pair of speakers so Jeanette was treated to an audio presentation of friendly indoctrination.

"Greetings, fellow Human Beings. You have arrived at a most unique place,"said the happy voiceover,"Unique because this place is the doorway to a safe haven that we Humans have built for Humans.

Say, wouldn't you and your loved ones like to live in a world where you didn't have to worry about rodents stealing the bread from you and your family's mouths...Where you didn't have to live near some disease carrying animal that happened to be smart enough to own a home or rent an apartment...Where your children didn't have to play or go to school or even date what is essentially vermin...Where you didn't have to share our rare, limited natural resources with pests..."

Jeanette felt a rage smoldering in her breast and had a look that could splinter steel.

"Then you need to join the hand of unity. The hand of strength. The hand of understanding...Humanity's Hand. Click below to enter, fellow Human!"

"Never!"She clicked back to the list and typed I.T.O. next to Humanity's Hand in the search bar. New articles detailing any and all dealings between the corporation and the hate group appeared.

As she read them, she thought to herself, 'Why are Humans doing this? We've done nothing to them. What are they afraid of? The cowards! I read population statistics. Urbanized and Rural Chipmunks are only twenty percent of America's population. We're not crowding anybody out. We're not a threat! We don't deserve this!'

That last thought was spoken aloud and it surprised her. She never felt such anger. In her mind, she hardened her heart to any Human. Like emotional bullets, she used her hatred to cut them down in a flash. She wanted to do more than just to punish Humanity's Hand and any misguided enough to follow their banner, but she wanted to see them punished. Hear it happen. Demand that it happen.

She was reading a news article where an I.T.O. factory's entire staff survived a bomb threat when she jumped to another article further down about a kidnapping attempt gone wrong. Humanity's Hand abducted a shareholder, a major coup for them, and left his pocket watch behind as a message to the company.

Fortunately, the shareholder was rescued and it was learned by both Interpol and Federal Agents afterwards that leaving a message of retaliation in the form of a victim's personal effect was and still is the method of choice for Hand members.

"That's it!"Jeanette quickly made a print-out of the article and logged off the terminal. She went to the door, holding in her hand what she hoped would be proof that Humanity's Hand was somehow responsible for what she found in Arthur's office.

By what she saw and read about them on the Net, they were already responsible for taking her innocence away.

Grateful that she had a better memory than most, Jeanette disembarked form the elevator car after she entered the same button sequence Arthur used earlier. Watching him do it paid off. She was making a beeline for the office while her mind ran from one thought to the next. The need to tell Arthur about her dire news. The object in her pocket.

She rounded the vacant hall and reached the office. Knocking on the door made it sway open.

Unlocked. Jeanette stepped in again and looked around. Like last time, it was empty, but similarities ended there. She felt the odd notion that he was here before, earlier, and was soon given her first confirmation of that fact when she saw his leather chair out and away from the desk.

She sat down on it to rest and felt the residual warmth. 'He was here, all right,' she thought as she saw that the stationary on the desk was used and no longer in order.

Jeanette also spied two things that weren't on the desk when she first visited the place. A paperback novel was left open and lying spine-up to keep the current page. She nodded, impressed by the choice of book and yet felt a little dismayed by it, too. It was Machiellvelli's,"The Prince".

The second thing was a day planner opened to that day, now quickly ending since according to a wall clock in the office, it was 11:32PM.

What was written on it didn't take up a lot of space or make a lot of sense to her:"Visitation-12:30AM.P-cells Green."

"P-cells Green? What's that?"she asked herself. 'Maybe there's a medical lab on-site here and Arthur went there.' she thought.

Looking around the desk for more clues, she saw that the eyeglasses case remained where she left it. She reached out to the day planner to turn another page for more information, but then suddenly froze in mid-motion at an unexpected sound from an unwelcome source.

The doorknob twitched and clicked and the door swung open for the guard on that particular patrol.

He was younger than the one in the Science Building and he looked straight in to the middle of the room.

He missed Jeanette by bare seconds. She huddled in the accommodating leg space under the wide desk, reminding herself that she would have a difficult time explaining to the sentinel why she was behind someone's desk in the middle of the night.

Despite the soft carpeting, being so low to the floor allowed Jeanette to hear every approaching, no-nonsense step as the guard circled the only place in the room that could conceivably hide someone. The desk.

She closed her eyes, riding on an adrenaline rush, as he stopped behind the desk. He leaned over and read the day planner aloud, chuckling to himself."What a show, down below,"he rhymed."Ah, well..."

Jeanette watched his knees bend, stooping to check below. Her heart fluttered fearfully. There was no way out.

She could see the head dip towards the leg space.

Then it stopped midway, the eyes still too high to see into the space. The squawk of his radio halted him just in time as Jeanette went stock-still.

"Yes, sir,"he said, standing."I was checking the offices when you called, sir...Another assignment? Yes, sir. I'm on my way."

He clicked off his radio, turned off the light and left the room quickly, muttering his best curses for bosses who couldn't make up their minds.

In the dark, Jeanette started to breathe again as she wondered what the guard meant by a "...show, down below".

She waited for ten minutes to make sure no patrols were still outside and then she left.

Various MunkTechs crawled, hung over or buried themselves inside The Predictor, making last minute checks to everything relevant. When Jeanette walked into the lab, it was a noisy, chaotic hive. No one stood still for more than two minutes at a time, making it hard for her to single out anyone for questions.

She watched the activity in frustration until two MunkTechs slowed down enough to notice her.

"Hey, we missed you, Jeanette!"called out the female MunkTech Jeanette met earlier.

"Yeah,"piped in her male companion,"How ya feelin'?"

"I'm better now, thanks,"she said as she approached them."I'm glad I ran into you."

"What's up?"he asked while quickly installing a motherboard.

"Well, I need to find someplace. I'm looking for Arthur-I mean, Mr. Duval. I have to talk to him right away."

"I don't think any of us seen had him since he brought you here,"said the female technician,"He's the boss here and he pretty much comes and goes. Your guess is as good as mine."

"Well, have any of you heard of P-cells? Do you know anything about them?"

"Three levels down,"said the brunette MunkTech Supervisor who overheard in the doorway."Take the west elevator. Okay, people, we have to get this job done tout de suite."

She moved into the lab and disappeared into the busy crowds.

"Okay, Jeanette-"the female MunkTech started to say when she turned to face her again, but Jeanette was already through the doorway.

"Wonder why she wanted to go there?"she asked.

"Hope she's not in any trouble,"her companion fretted.

"Well, we better get back to work."

"Right."

She couldn't understand why she felt anxious outside a need to talk to Arthur about her suspicions. She hoped to find him soon, sleep was catching up with her.

Power walking past workers and guards in the hall, she arrived at the elevator. And gritted her teeth went she saw the "Out of Order" sign displayed on the doors.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she went to search for stairwells and after asking around, found the right one.

On the wall closest to the door when she entered, Jeanette saw a sign that read: 'Attention: due to last Tuesday's rainstorm, Maintenance has temporarily suspended power to a few services on the lower levels while repairs are in effect. We apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you.'

Peering down the staircase, she noticed that it was almost dark on the floor she wanted. She descended the stairs as the levels grew dimmer and cooler.

Finally, she reached her floor and opened the door that led her to a dark hall cluttered with scaffolds, tools, cable, florescent light tubes and schematics of the level while Maintenance warning tape festooned the corridor like a crime scene.

The view was the same on the other side of the hall. On the wall across from her, Jeanette saw the words, 'P-cells Red and Yellow' and a directional glyph pointing to the left side and below that, 'P-cells Green' and its corresponding glyph pointing to the right.

Jeanette, relieved, headed right, carefully maneuvering through the work area. 'What could he possibly want to see down here?' Jeanette thought as she neared a small guard's station consisting of a steel desk, a darkened security monitor, a lamp and a locked steel box bolted to the wall behind the desk.

Only the guard was missing. A few feet away from the station was a single green door which she tentatively opened. Below her was a metal winding staircase that spiraled slowly down into the dark. She began to hesitate, to think about why she was here again, she wasn't too sure now.

"I'm just tired, that's all,"she whispered,"That's all."

Then she heard a faint echoing under her feet, like a voice, in the depths. Curiosity over rid her want to wait for Arthur in the relative safety of the defunct floor.

She stepped down as quietly as she could and her eyes, now accustomed to the very low illumination, could make out a small hall in the murk walled with single doors. The staircase ended almost on the other side of the hall, with the back of the hall dead-ending just behind the stairs, almost in complete shadow by it.

A figure could be seen in the distance, facing one of the doors at the extreme end of the corridor. A voice floated from that same location. Jeanette crept to the bottom stair and then circled around to the shadows behind it.

'Where's Arthur?' she anxiously thought as he tuned her sensitive ears to the speaker ahead.

Despite the flowing black of the all-concealing robe and the distance from her, the height and the timbre of the voice was unmistakable.

Arthur.

She prepared to go to him with her news and warnings. To protect him. Then she vaguely picked up what hew as saying. What she heard made her breath catch.

"I'm going to miss breaking your will with my own hands. I hate you and you're going to die soon. You see, I won. I have everything of yours. Your freedom, your life, your work. But that's irrelevant now. In good conscience, I must admit that you are a piece of work. Despite your interference in the organization's affairs, thanks to you and the incomparable Miss Miller, I.T.O. will wipe the Earth clean of the furless scum, the Humans, in a single death stroke. Their blackest hour will herald a Chipmunk Golden Age."

Jeanette didn't know who he was talking to, but it didn't matter. At that moment, she just wished that he whispered when he talked so she'd be mistaken about what she heard. Wished he were taller. Wished he was a woman. Wished he was Human. Wished he was anything but what he turned out to be.

Genocide wasn't something one boasted about committing unless one was a.)certifiable, b.)had the means to do it or c.)both.

"By the way, don't think that the vaunted Interpol will stop us. It took a couple of subliminally doctored videotapes to convince everyone close to you and her to have you both sent here. They certainly won't lose any sleep over the fact that they will never see you again."Arthur said breezily.

He turned to leave, but then stopped for a final say."You're smart enough, at least, not to think of escaping. You'd need the code and it changes everyday. And don't worry about Jeanette. She loves me. I'll see to that. My love and my technology will erase you from her heart just like my technology will erase you from the Earth. Death to Humanity!"

Jeanette felt more confused than outraged, but that would pass, she was sure. Fear and guilt would be along any time. Her head tried to make sense of it all, but her heart already knew everything now.

That what she found in Arthur's office had nothing to do with Humanity's Hand. That, in spite of their evil, Humanity's hand was essentially blameless in all of this. That because she was woefully naive and on the rebound, this techno-Hitler used her and anyone else to help bring Humanity into its twilight. That she couldn't love him. Would not love him. Ever.

'Death to Humans? Kill Humans? Miss Miller? Dave? And I'm helping to bring it about! Wh-Why is he...Why is he...'

Jeanette had to lean into the shadowed wall for support, burying herself in the darkness. Fainting would only give her away. As Arthur approached the staircase, he though the saw movement ahead and so he slowed down.

The blackness stared back at him silent, immutable and unforgiving. He saw nothing and slowly ascended the steps, his robes trailing behind him like a dark sea.

Jeanette grimly stepped out of the shadows and watched the top of the stairs for his return that, thankfully, never came. She headed off towards the door Arthur left. 'P-cells,' she thought, 'Prison cells.' As she neared, Jeanette wondered what Arthur meant about Interpol. An agent perhaps.

"Siseman? Kuomo?"she called out quietly in the hall. She figured if any agent would be assigned a case involving Chipmunks, it might have been the two agents that were sent to capture her, her sisters and their boyfriends on The Furstein Case years ago."Did Inspector Jamal sent you?"

"Jeanette?!"

"Simon?!"

She leapt at the steel door, looking and feeling for the lock.

"It's electronic,"Simon said weakly. The only features she could access were the light switch that lit the cell's interior, a food panel below and an open, barred port at eye-level for face-to-face communication and ventilation.

"Simon?"Jeanette pulled and pushed at and reached through the bars to touch his face, to know he was really here.

She could see into the cell, although the dim illumination only reached from the door to the center of the cell and Simon wasn't seen.

She heard a shuffle of movement in a dark corner and then Simon walked out to her. Her heart cracked when she saw him.

His tuft was dry and disheveled, the natural oils that held his hairs together in a dreadlock-like arrangement were absorbed by dirt and dust. Blood caked in patches in the fur of his face and head next to the accompanying bruises and cuts.

He wasn't wearing his glasses, making the black eye all the more noticeable. His clothes, like him, were dirty, bloody and torn.

"What happened,"she almost screamed in the dark.

"The great and powerful Duval,"he said sarcastically."That's what happened."

Jeanette was grateful that he couldn't read her mind. The guilt and self-loathing would have made him catatonic.

She hated herself more than she hated Arthur. She couldn't believe how trusting and gullible she was, falling in love with someone who thought the way he thought and did the things he did, for a goal that was as malevolent as Humanity's Hand's. A goal she unwittingly jumped into with both feet. A goal she indirectly endorsed by her earlier feelings about Humans in general after seeing that reprehensible web site.

"I was no better..."she whispered with a bitter sob.

"What did you say, Jeanette?"

"Uh, nothing. Nothing. What did he do?"

He felt like a youngster of eight or nine again, telling Dave about a bad dream. He blew out a nervous breath."They wanted information on components I developed. Like my Capacitor Conveyor, my Temporal Micro-pulse Disruption Generator and my Visual Continuum Stabilization Circuit. They needed to know how to make them, but they never told me why. They just kept me in the dark, no pun intended. I refused to talk when I suspected that their intentions were less than noble, so they interrogated me."

"Did they hurt you,"Jeanette asked tensely.

"Not at first. First they simply questioned me. When that didn't work, they injected me with Truthex, but my will eventually beat it,"he said tiredly.

Jeanette knew what came next."So they...tortured you?"

"Duval did. He beat-"Simon's confession choked him. He couldn't understand why telling this to Jeanette would hurt him so. She could certainly come to that self same conclusion herself just by looking at him, but the image, even a mental one, of his strength being stripped away with every unanswered blow, was galling to him."I...I broke."

It felt like a mound of ash in his mouth confessing that. Jeanette could see the turmoil in his steel-gray eyes and mercifully changed the subject."Well, how did you get here? We're on an island."

"Well, when I was following you and Duval to that party-"

"Following?"Jeanette asked with noting irritation. 'No trust,' she assessed."You were following me?"

"So? You were the one who didn't want to see me again."

"You know, I can take care of myself!"

For a moment, he just stared at her uniform, which, he had to admit, tugged in interesting places, and then formed his own opinion on the subject."Judging by your attire, I'd say Duval is the one taking good care of you."

She felt like she was in a slow nightmare. Shocked, tired, homesick, heartbroken, guilty and betrayed. And now this again. She had enough."You know, Simon? You give jealous stalkers a bad name."

"Jealous? About what, Jeanette?"he asked incredulously,"Gallivanting all over town with Mr. Perfect?"

"Is that what you call it? Boy! You just can't stand for anyone to have a good time, can you?"Jeanette was getting louder with each new sentence, not caring if anyone on the island could hear her."Why don't you just admit it, Simon? Somehow, you're unhappy inside and you have to have everyone else hating Life, too. It's not Alvin or Brittany that you can't understand-"

"What?"he sputtered as he leaned against the door to rest."What are you talki-"

"But their love of Life!"she charged him with a vigor that was waning fast. She needed sleep badly."And as for me? Ha! I'm as disruptive to your little world as I could possibly get. I'm smart and a little free-spirited!"

"That's not...I-I didn't-"

"I must be poison to you,"she said with quiet pain. Putting her hands to her face to self-consciously hide the tears and rub the tension away that settled there, Jeanette listened painfully for his rebuttal. The silence was powerful. He said nothing.

After two minutes of peace, she wearily spoke up to the door."I didn't know what he was like, Simon. I-I'm trying to figure all of this out."

Simon was on the floor, sitting by the door. The recent beating, the conditions there, took a costly toll from him. Fighting with Jeanette again, however, drained him and hurt him far more than he was ready for.

He rested and listened to her soft, lilting voice, taking strength from its familiarity and its connections of home. He felt like a thief, stealing something he neither earned or deserved.

"I'm sorry they did this to you and I'll...I'll try to get us out of here. I promise, okay?"she affirmed through the door. He still said nothing, his mind, a emotional muddle.

"When I found these in Duval's office, I thought you were kidnapped by someone else to get to him or me. Here,"she slipped something through the food panel and it sat beside him on the floor. Simon was speechless.

"I think you need these a lot more than Duval does."

He picked up her gift. Yes, he would call it a gift. He thought he'd never see them again and the moment he slowly, reverently, put his glasses back on his face, he could see clearly again.

But not the way he used to. No. He saw the frames still wet from her tears, felt the warmth of her body on them, smelled her scent, the same scent that he remembered back at the dinner, the scent of a young female blossoming into a strong, beautiful adult, felt the inner power of someone he thought he knew a long time ago.

She was still trying to do right, even after her betrayal by Arthur. Still caring for him, even after their fight. Still caring.

He called out to her and heard nothing. He called again.

"She's gone,"came a feminine voice from the next cell.

"She's gone,"he repeated in a whispered dread.

The finality of those hurt worse than the torture. He ached to have her back by the door again, just to hear her.

Not since the moment of his birth had he felt so blind and alone.

"I missed you last night."

"I guess we kind of missed each other...I guess,"she said.

"Busy last night?"

"Yes."

"I know I was. I'm sorry I didn't call you or anything."

"That's okay."

"Are you all right, Jeanette? You barely touched you breakfast."

"Not hungry, I guess."

She was starving in the midst of plenty as the cafeteria went through its typical morning rush of activity. She barely noticed the hungry campers or her food. Just the truth, Or parts of it. Last night seemed surreal to her and something in her wanted to distance herself from all of it. To ignore it and press on with the lie.

Taking a glance at Arthur, sitting across from her, disintegrated that notion with a vengeance. Her stomach twisted with a buried, smoldering hate for him. His kind, which she admitted she didn't even know existed, would be an embarrassment beyond measure to their people.

And worse, if Humans ever realized what Chipmunks like him were capable of, then the somewhat stable relationship between Chipmunks and Humans would crumble and the Earth's first major interspecies war might become a hellish reality.

That she might be an integral part of such a history frightened her more than what she knew what she had to do to prevent it. But Jeanette made up her mind in bed after seeing Simon last night to do something. Anything.

That only left Simon. However she may have felt about him, she couldn't leave him to die in an anonymous jail in the middle of the ocean, but how to get him and herself free didn't even process in her mind.

Trying to learn more about I.T.O. ,the real one, and what she was working on, was first priority, but with her emotions about Simon and Arthur interfering with even the most basic strategy, that was becoming too difficult.

"You really ought to eat something."

"I'm fine,"she said robotically.

"Well,"he smiled, changing the subject,"You'll not have to worry about today, or any other day, actually. The MunkTechs told me last night that, thanks to you, The Predictor will be ready. You can take it easy for the rest of the vacation, lucky you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I have to be there when it's done, to check the software. Make sure the operating system is running smoothly."

"I understand."Then a spark, a flash of inspiration hit the dark corners of her besieged mind. An opening in the trap. With a slowly growing grin, she said,"You know, I think I will take your advice and take it easy today. Maybe visit the Observatory or the Science Museum. Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine, Jeanette. You have a good time, though. I want to know that you're having fun here."He looked at her with such sincerity that she had to glance away nonchalantly. He was in love with her, she had no doubt, but her heart died in that dark hall last night.

A beeping was faintly coming from his sweater pocket. He pulled out an intricate device the size of a poker chip.

"Latest design. The TeleChip,"he explained. He looked at the tiny screen for a moment, then stood up."They want me at the testing facilities. They just finished a few new products and they need my approval. I'll see you later, then?"

"Later, then,"she grinned with silent disgust as he gave her a peck on the cheek and left.

After wiping her cheek with a napkin and depositing her trash, she left the cafeteria and headed for the one place on campus she felt remotely secure.

"MunkTech Maintenance Access Code accepted, Miller, Jeanette. Have a productive day,"intoned the synthesized voice over her secured headset.

There were others in the VR Lab, but no one could see what anyone else was doing in the virtual environments unless they were tandem for group gaming. Fortunately, the lab assistant, the only one who could monitor everyone in every game running, was engaged in lively conversation with a young, female Chipmunk teen.

Through her filtered visor, Jeanette's virtual "hands" manipulated glowing service icons and telecommunication links that floated in the dark, utilitarian 3-D of a low security maintenance sector of the island's computer network.

She wistfully wished she had this system when she was working on The Predictor's software, it made things a lot easier. She brushed aside a floating folder of repair logs and spoke a command in her headset, conjuring up a list of general files and folders, one of which read:' Classical Music Library'.

She snatched it with glowing "hands"and opened it, selecting one of her favorite pieces. In the falsely chamber-like environment, the strong passionate beginnings of Greig's Piano Concerto in G minor resonated all around.

Calling up a search function, she entered Arthur's name. Immediately, Grieg ended and was replaced by a booming, disorienting vocal track."Attention, Miller, Jeanette, you are not cleared by I.T.O. Security to access Duval, Arthur. Please desist. Thank you."The music then continued.

"So much for that,"she muttered.

The Predictor Lab was beginning to look like a fully-functioning facility again, instead of looking like the aftermath of a terrorist bombing. Panels were closed, terminals were humming with purpose and The Predictor itself was closed up and immaculate.

MunkTechs still tuned and prepped and checked status systems, but there were fewer of them, now that the final preparations could safely be made.

Jeanette, soon after, accessed the I.T.O. intranet site from her location.

It was surprisingly easy to do and a little strange from her perspective to see the web site's homepage looming over, around and under her in a fish eyed, three-hundred and sixty degree panorama.

Pointing at the large link leading to Corporate History, she was caught in the illusion of velocity, as a VR compatible environment, the simulacrum of a stately gallery formed around her. Large portraits in lifelike detail lined the ornate wooden walls. Male and female, all, were reasonably elderly or getting there.

A cultured Chipmunk voice floated in her ears.

"International Technological Operations, or I.T.O., was started in 1902 as a growing steel spring company by Roget Duval, the adopted son of Webster Duval, a French industrialist, whose public adoption of a Chipmunk was, at the time, controversial and was unfavorably looked upon by his shareholders and the Business world, in general.

Taking over his foster father's company after the severe walkout of Webster's entire staff and executives and his subsequent death under unexplained circumstances, Roget then staffed the entire company with his people, bringing prosperity to both Rural and Urbanized Chipmunks who flocked to him and causing an uproar in the Business Community with the world's first Chipmunk-owned and staffed company, which received record sales during the height of World War I and II."

"Attention: Interface Error detected in Number Eight Processor. Replace immediately,"The Predictor intoned to the workers during its testing run.

Chaos resumed and The Predictor's distress spread to the other terminals serving it. And to others that currently weren't...

The walls began to shimmer and Jeanette's perspective wavered abruptly. The voiceover stuttered, slurred and unraveled into garbled static.

In the VR Lab, she tensed at the change, mentally preparing herself for anything.

A window sprang into existence ahead of her. A single icon of a brown book with a black silhouette of tree in its center was displayed in the window's center. The voiceover returned."Welcome honored guest! You have been granted access to I.T.O. Deep File: History. Please click the icon to learn about us."

Quickly, she tapped the icon and the world changed again.

"System nominal. Resuming Test Mode,"said Predictor as it and all the other terminals returned to cybernetic sanity.

All the MunkTechs present breathed a sigh of unfathomable relief, oblivious to the error that escaped and did its damage before it was eliminated by Predictor's and the terminals' safeguards.

She walked leisurely through a shaded glade. Here and there, Jeanette could see interspersed with the young, strong trees, homes either built within the living heartwood or spreading up and out through the canopies.

No surprise registered with her on seeing this. She and her sisters owned such a home, which resided in the city's largest park back home. Although they live with Miss Miller now, occasionally they would still use the home whenever privacy was needed. In fact, she had seen other Chipmunk homes in either configuration before. She always marveled at their synthesis of architecture and horticulture.

She looked down at a flashing object in the grass. It was a gauntlet next to a broken arrow. She followed the trail of their position on the ground and soon exited onto a wide clearing, bright with sun.

Dominating the vista was a gathering as regal as it was solemn. Chipmunks were dressed in a type of ceremonial or official garb that she never saw before and were separated by a respectable distance from another group of Chipmunks whose attire Jeanette was all too familiar with.

Black robed male and female adults and children stared defiantly at the Chipmunks at the head of the procession.

The voiceover floated once more in her ears.

"It started with a wisdom too clear to be discounted but too feared by those who were blinded by the novelty of a union with those that enslave us all."

The most ornately dressed Chipmunk pointed to the hills beyond the forest. When the black-robes didn't move as requested, the bulk of that Chipmunk's group, armed soldiers, slowly began to flank around every side of the black-robes except the side leading to the hills. Gradually, the dark group filed out of the opening made by the soldiers.

"We are the Iron Tree Organization. Born in exile when we lived under our first name. A name given to us by The Council of The First Fruit when our cause was known and thwarted. The Council of Traitors.

We were vilified and whispered about, a group of disenfranchised diplomats, scientists and advisors. But we knew what others ignored. That the newly-discovered Human Race was not eager for union, but was, in fact, eager for conquest.

To protect our people from their own folly, we have dedicated our skills and at times, our lives, to subjugate or annihilate the furless enemy. To this end, we have desperately sought and continue to seek The EverSpring Archive, our people's chronicle. Within its many pages lies the secrets of a weapon that, if wielded correctly, could strike down any non-Chipmunk life.

Centuries pass, fortunes are gained and lost and yet our banner still flies. We are the masters of technology, the kings of industry. And with your allegiance and support, brave Chipmunk, the Human threat will come to pass and we will enjoy a Golden Age unequalled."

The landscaped shifted and in its place was a gallery of mirrors. For once, Jeanette could see herself in the VR environment. She was chilled at the sight.

All around her were near-infinite reflections of herself wearing a flowing, black gown with a light purple sash and an elegant black headdress. Around the choker collar rested a silver necklace adorned with a matching tree silhouette pendant.

"Embrace your destiny,"the voiceover whispered in conclusion.

She left the lab three minutes later.

The Predictor Lab was as hushed as a grave. Only the hum of disc drives sounded freely in the chamber.

MunkTechs formed two lines leading from the doors to The Predictor.

The doors opened. Arthur strode in imperiously, flanked by two older males in tailored suits. He didn't stop until he faced the machine.

"Voice Command Interpret,"he told it.

"Acknowledged, Field Executive Duval."

He smiled.

With her glasses off to minimize being recognized by Arthur, Jeanette willed herself not to be seen while she stood in the section of the line closest to the computer and him.

Arthur seemed too enraptured about something to be observant, so she closed her eyes to lessen the eyestrain and listened to what he was up to.

"Given all global historical data, general recorded Chipmunk/Human interaction and all Fine Arts and Manuscript trade, both legal and illegal, beginning from the last known or recorded sighting of The EverSpring Archive,March3,1360,where would The Archive be found today?"he asked calmly yet expectantly.

Everyone held their breath.

"Stand-by,"it said."Checking all global databases."The hum of the satellite terminals rose in pitch."Activating Temporal-Spatial Perception Matrix. Timeline Probability Computation Mode, on-line. Stand-by."

From beneath the room was heard a slowly rising, roaring howl of machinery best explained by theoretical physicists than computer engineers. It steadied into a rhythmic humming that made the proceedings feel more supernatural than technological. Arthur was still grinning like an idiot, all the same.

"Matrix fields at 82% coherence and clearing,"it said and Jeanette opened her eyes to look up at The Predictor, a growing sense of recognition was hitting hard. It was like she was looking at a new version of an old toy or game or something complex yet familiar.

'What does Predictor's operations have to do with temporal-'Jeanette's eyes couldn't have opened wider with remembrance or shock. The pieces were falling into place so fast, she almost kicked herself for not seeing it before.

She had seen this computer, this machine...this time machine, before. In the cellar of Simon's home in its crude original form of jury-rigged and kit-bashed components and housing.

The computer matrix to a time machine he never completed. And still it worked when Alvin needed to know the future events of two then present choices he was forced to choose from that day.

It scanned all local Space-Time and then when that yielded nothing, it scanned alternate time, itself, using the local timeline's probability to guide in its search for the timeline that fit most favorably with the probability calculation given, which all depended greatly on the choices or course of action given to the computer.

'Genius,' she thought back. 'No wonder they call it The Predictor. It's the ultimate crystal ball. That's why they tortured Simon.' She felt shaken by the thought of his torment and fought to get rid of the image.

She glanced hard at his tormentor. 'The computer broke down when Simon used it the last time. Maybe I.T.O. found out where he hid the intact remains and put it together via reverse engineering partially. They needed him to rebuild those components that didn't survive the meltdown.'

"Event found,"Predictor intoned as the monitor above them showed real images of World History as it happened and as it related to the matter at hand. Much as the original showed images of The Chipmunks and The Chipettes both in a timeline where they grew up and enjoyed the fruits of their family lives and individual achievements and in another where they lived on the very edge of destitution. True uni-directional visual interface with alternate space-time.

It continued."Based on the totality of all recorded history and general recorded interaction between Chipmunks and Humans, pertaining to and/or affecting the previous location of The EverSpring Archive in this current timeline, the highest probable location of The Archive, barring any current modifications to said timeline, is the city of Venice, Italy. Approximate time of transplantation to Venice from last known or recorded sighting of The Archive: July 5,1612."

For a moment, Arthur just grinned. Then he lifted his head and howled."I knew it! I knew she could do it! I love you, girl!"Jeanette ignored the compliment, though she blushed fiercely in spite of it.

"Where in Venice, Predictor?"he asked.

"Further computations must be made before a determination can be made. Approximate time to determination:12 hours. Time is now 9:23AM.Timeline Probability Computational Mode, on-line."

Arthur turned to the MunkTechs."Ladies and Gentlemunks, you have surpassed yourselves. Surpassed yourselves. The Iron Tree Organization is truly in your collective debt and your next paychecks will most certainly reflect this. I thank you."

The applause swelled like a wave behind Jeanette as she slipped out of the lab.

'They found The Archive,' she thought, sitting in a commissary a floor below the lab. 'But instead of triumph, it'll be a disaster.'

She had satisfied her curiosity in discovering what she was working on and the truth of the world she was now in. Now, she was working on how to escape to prevent that world from superceding the present one.

'How do I get Simon and myself out of here? I can't fool Security again. Not to do this.'

Security.

'I need to think.' Jeanette watched two guards leaving their table, chatting. She paid them no mind.

Guards.

'Maybe I could hack my way into Security...No, I lucked out and barely squeaked by to get what I know about them now.'

Computers.

'Maybe...no.' One of the guards trotted back to their table and picked up the keys he left.

Keys.

Jeanette couldn't concentrate, so she walked out of the room. 'Too many distractions in there,' she thought.

Security. Guards. Computers. Keys.

She almost screamed when it hit her.

"It appears that these vents are not for ventilation, after all,"Simon said, smelling the small grates on the floor.

The synthetically sweet, almond odor was not unknown to him. He worked around enough laboratories and chemistry sets to know what cyanide smelled like. Yet what he smelled was only the residue built up on the mesh not the gas itself, which meant that these cells were used before and often. And would be used again soon.

Arthur reclined deeply in his chair, drinking in the moment. His cunning and leadership were put to the test and now everything he worked for and wanted was soon to be his. The Archive, Simon's death and Jeanette's devotion. Prizes to be savored, indeed.

He clicked on his desk intercom."Security, sent someone to find Jeanette Miller, please. She should be somewhere on campus. When you find her, escort her here to my office. Thank you."

All that was left to do now was to dispatch Simon Seville. As a rival for Jeanette's feelings, having "Simple"Simon put to death gratified him to no end.

Simon looked at the once open port, now sealed with a pane of Plexiglas that came down a moment ago.

An airtight barrier that afforded a view could only be Arthur's idea, he figured. No doubt to see the last of him, privately and up-close.

Although he couldn't see down the hall, he suddenly saw shadow play on the doors across from his cell.

"Courage, Seville,"came the voice from next door. Obviously she saw something he hadn't yet and from the choice of words...

The silhouette of a figure could be seen moving in front of the door. Then a sound came from the floor and Simon couldn't help seeing his life fast forwarding in his mind.

Despite his pessimism at times, he focused on every bright moment he could recall. He never really thought about his own mortality, save when he ran into Klaus and Claudia Furstein. But he wouldn't give Arthur a show.

That would be his pay back to him. He would leave the Earth with defiance. And a regret.

The yellowish vapor crawled long the floor, gracefully deflected off walls and skipped and jumped higher and higher and a determined voice outside droned in the hissing noise, like a chant. Like someone goading something to happen...

The door swung open and Simon leapt out and closed it back before any more of the killing mist escaped. He looked at whoever saved him and couldn't speak when it was Jeanette. He couldn't believe her so determined to do what she did, to pull him from the brink...like an angel. Like an angel. He stared at her as though seeing her for the fist time. Then he remembered.

"Whoa! Get her out!"he yelled as he ran to the next cell. Jeanette followed him to the door and inputted a code in the cell door keypad."How did you do that?"he asked her.

"One of the perks of being a MunkTech,"she answered, somewhat coldly.

The door swung out and the two were knocked down by a fast moving body. They jumped up and slammed the door, then looked down the hall towards the winding stair that the figure would surely use to escape.

The two saw the body slip through a dark open door that seemed to appear in the shadows of the stairs. Once it closed, the wall behind the stairs looked the way it did when Jeanette went there the first time.

"A secret emergency door?"Jeanette observed, as she handed Simon a shirt, pair of shorts and a full backpack. She was similarly dressed and she walked to the wall.

While he quickly changed, she began to feel along the wall for seams, buttons or panels. Everywhere she ran her hands, she only felt more wall. Time was of the essence. They had to escape now, while The Powers that Be continued to think they were dispatching prisoners.

She heard Simon coming up behind her and so turned to face him. She was about to ask him if he was strong enough to try and sneak through the headquarters and reach the elevators when her foot stepped on a protuberance on the floor. The door almost hit her from behind. They soon disappeared in the safety of the dark.

Arthur answered the 'com."Yes?...Have you checked the Observatory and the Museum?...The VR Lab?...Well, keep looking for her. It's important that I see her."He pressed another button on the 'com's panel.

"Interrogation, please. I'll wait...Hello, Duval here. Please have the prisoners in Green Section prepped for termination. I'll be there shortly to view the proceedings...What do you mean it happened already? By whose authority?!..."

He left the room like a shot.

They saw no chance of following the figure, so great a lead she had on them, so they held hands and walked through the dark tunnel.

Something in Simon wanted to thank her a million times over for the rescue, but he sensed a frosty distance in her. Even though she saved them, it seemed like she did it for no other reason than they were simply someplace they shouldn't have been and she got them out. No fanfare. No explanations.

At least it seemed that way. He knew that he was the reason. He and Arthur hurt her in their own ways. He couldn't even remember why he was so pig-headed, but he was sure that Jeanette would remind him if he didn't remind himself.

"Come on, there's the exit,"she said. He hadn't noticed that he could see the walls now, illuminated with the blue tint of the outdoors and feel a cool wind on his face, until she spoke. He thought she wouldn't say anything to him again. That possibility still existed.

Although Simon didn't know where he was, Jeanette was surprised to find that they emerged from the side of an obelisk that decorated the rear of the Science Building. Glancing about, they found no trace of the first escapee and the area was deserted, but voices could be heard from the front.

The duo sneaked along the side of the building and looked out onto the Quad. A group of campers wearing the same gear as Simon and Jeanette were preparing to leave the campus for a nature hike along a western trail that skirted the unexplored territory further west.

They asked among the group when they reached them and were told as much. The trail boss gave the signal and soon the group plus two marched off-campus.

"You already have the information, Arthur. There's no need to be sadistic in killing a fellow Chipmunk,"said the first robed one in the meeting room."If he was guilty at all, it was for his loyalty to the Human, David Seville, not because he loved a Chipmunk that you now desire."

Arthur's eyes were lidded with a patience that the two robed figures were finding hard to figure out. Like he was privy to the punch line of a very dangerous joke and wasn't about share it that knowledge.

"Do you know that chipmunks, ordinary chipmunks, are not as cute as Humans like to believe? They are fiercely opportunistic, independent and territorial. When they want a thing, they reach for it. He was my rival and I had the right to defeat him."

"We are not so feral. We have risen above The Instinct. You are not what we once were. Remember this. And remember that we are The Roaming and answer to your father, not his surviving son,"the second said darkly.

"Attend to your tasks and recover The Archive. Time grows short,"said the first and with that the two rose from their chairs and walked out.

Arthur sat quietly in the dark while his heart raged like a demon.

Simon kept his silence while Jeanette engaged in lively banter with other hikers to pass the time from the walk.

He didn't want to say anything that might tip the tension meter to the red, so he absorbed the environment, his senses working overtime to make up for lost time in that dungeon.

Arthur entered his office in time to answer the intercom's buzz."Yes?"he said irritably."You found her?...Where is she?...Hiking? Wait, I'm getting another call."He pressed another button.

"Yes?...Green Section, that's right,"he said dejectedly."Dispose of the...What?! There has to be bodies down there! Those doors were electronically locked!!!"he screamed.

Everything felt like a trap sprung around him. Disappointment after disappointment. 'If those two worms took him away...' he fumed and dashed a pencil holder down on his desk. It ricocheted and knocked his eyeglasses case to the carpet.

He went around to find it and noticed it open and empty. Quickly, he looked under the desk and all over the floor for Simon's glasses that he was keeping as a trophy. The floor was bare and he began to think frantically.

'Simon's gone, his glasses are missing and Jeanette not h...here.' He almost laughed, it seemed too absurd. But the clues screamed at his ego, turned it inside out. He walked back to the 'com, stunned.

"Is there any way to reach the trail boss?"

They slipped away from the group easy enough after the hour and a half long walk. Jeanette figured that they were far enough away from them to continue westward where no Chipmunk or Human presence was established yet on the island.

"Are you sure this where we're to go?"Simon hazarded a question.

"Yes, Simon,"she said with no real emotion."They haven't explored the western side of the island. We should be safe for awhile."Then she took a drink from her canteen.

"Very well,"he conceded coldly. Then he caught himself. Playing the Cold Shoulder game wasn't going to do anything but make an emotionally bad situation worse, but he was tiring of the psychological snipes she was giving him. If only...

His reverie was broken by Jeanette's scream from off to the side. A slightly heavy-set male in hiking gear, the trail boss, quickly stepped around the tree he was hiding around.

What the teenagers noticed the most about him was the disc shaped device on his shirt collar, which Jeanette recognized as one of Arthur's Telechips, and the inverted H-shaped weapon he was brandishing.

"No stragglers on my hike, you two,"he quipped as he approached the two."I got a call from Mr. Duval personally, to bring you two back. Imagine. A personal call from the boss's son. I guess if you live right, things just work out, huh?"

Simon's nerves were on edge immediately. If he returned to Arthur, there was no coming back .He'd lose his life and Jeanette in a single, fatal action. He'd rather die in the woods...or buy Jeanette time to escape!

He was closest to Simon when he made his decision and his move. With one hand, Simon deflected the gun arm away and while the trail boss raise his other hand to deliver a devastating haymaker, Simon delivered a sudden and surprising kick in the groin.

Winded and doubled over, he stumbled back to the tree. Jeanette instinctively ran to Simon, checking for injuries and not thinking about her attitude of him earlier. Concern over rid everything that happened to them all those weeks ago.

Instinct controlled the trail boss, as well. He couldn't return without them and so decided to make the capture easier by elimination.

He swiftly, but unsteadily drew the gun to Simon's direction. Jeanette's peripheral vision caught the movement.

"Look out!"she yelled as she leapt the rest of the way in front of him and in desperation, threw her canteen at the shooter to throw off his aim.

He squeezed the trigger and the bi-level barrel emitters, once a dull orange, turned a bright blue and a small lightning stroke fire hosed out, forks eagerly spread for conductive contact.

Some of the foremost forks touched Jeanette's side, which stunned her so badly, she didn't even cry out. The rest of the charge narrowly missed Simon's head although the passing of it made the fur on the side of his face stand.

The canteen hit the trail boss's chest and water gushed, covering his torso, arms and hands."This time, I won't miss. Goodbye, Seville."

He pulled the trigger of the now wet gun and didn't have time to regret it as the entire power pack discharged into his wet, conductive body. Only when the gun's innards began to flame, did Simon realize that both the gun and its wielder were finished. And he didn't care.

He knelt beside her, gently turning her over to keep the weight off the burn. He carefully lifted her shirt from the side. The fabric had a scorched slit and beneath it, a burned scar about three inches long furrowed. The creamy fur above it was vaporized, but the burn wasn't deep, thankfully.

Simon found an antiseptic ointment in his bag and gingerly applied it, grateful that it also was analgesic for the pain.

Jeanette started to stir as he finished bandaging a large gauze pad to the wound."What happened?"

"Patrols will be coming soon,"he said while bringing her to her feet."Can you walk?"

"I'll be fine,"she said weakly. Then she glanced at the body in the distance."Is he dead?"

"I'm afraid so. We better go."

"Wait! Get that."She pointed at the corpse.

"What?"

"The disc on his collar is a communicator. We'll need it."

"Okay."He went to the trail boss and not-so-eagerly removed the device. It almost felt like a desecration. Almost.

With the device and the trail boss's pack in hand and Jeanette leaning on him, Simon hastily vanished into the island woodlands.

Moving more on intuition and adrenaline, they covered a little over a mile deep inside the western interior, but Simon noticed that Jeanette was faltering with every step, making it hard for him to carry her and the extra gear that could give them that much more of an edge. The sudden smell of water brought back his resolve and he pressed on.

They came to a tree-lined bank that opened below a thin rushing cataract. With her last bit of strength, Jeanette shook off her pack and went limp in Simon's hold.

He dropped his cargo of packs and carried her to the edge of the bank. Laying her down, he checked her vitals. Her breathing was slow and shallow and her heartbeat lost some of its speedy, healthy rhythm.

"Jeanette. Jeanette!"He lightly slapped her face but nothing happened. The electrical attack did more damage than suspected.

Simon sprinkled cold water from the waterfall's pool on her face to revive her. The water ran down her cheeks like tears but nothing happened.

Panic festered in him. He knew all about First Aid, but he couldn't access the memory because of his frustration. His fear raced unchecked with the frightening possibility that he couldn't save her life. He looked at her again, watching, willing for Life to take her up again. She was so still, that if he wasn't watching her chest rise slightly for breathing, he'd have thought all was lost for her.

First the break-up, then the jealousy, the kidnapping and the torture. Now after rescuing him, she would die in this place as decreed by Fate. His heart couldn't bear it any more. Not having her in his life was an inner hell he could not withstand.

Fearful tears fell, his cool, intellectual demeanor evaporating in his sorrow.

"I'm sorry...Jeanette. I'm sorry. I was so wrong to be that way to you."He cradled her head in his arms and cried in her dark hair. He didn't care how he looked. He just needed to do that, to purge his soul of all of his pain and just tell her everything he needed to say...before the end.

"I can't believe I let my ego get the better of me like that. You were right...I was acting like Alvin. I was...am insecure,"he sobbed bitterly."All my life I tried to be as smart as I could. The more intelligent I became, the more infallible I thought people would see me. If the other kids in school teased me, I could have still have some sense of worth from the adults. Dave, Miss Miller, teachers. But what good is being smart...if I use it as a weapon. Against you. I'm...sorry, Jeanette."

He barely felt a hand brush his cheek. He opened his red eyes with a start and looked down at Jeanette smiling weakly up at him."I...heard everything, Simon."

"You..."

"When I found out about Arthur last night, I was so...heartbroken...that I didn't think I wanted to wake up."

"I..."

"Until... I heard you just now."She locked her emerald eyes into his steel-gray ones with an intensity that consumed him with their depth."Tell me you meant it, Simon,"she pleaded.

He opened his heart and said,"I do."Tears rolled off his cheeks to mix with hers.

"Come here."Jeanette whispered, secure in his firm arms.

Simon leaned his face towards hers and felt a hand gently pull his head closer, until his whole being joyously surrendered to the longest, sweetest kiss Jeanette's heart could make.