Part 9
"Who was that?"
Daniel and I exchange a look over his head. "He was a bad man," Daniel says simply.
"Yes," Danny nods. "I thought so. What was he talking about when he said there were aliens? And he said I'm a clone and I should remember stuff?"
That one is a bit tougher to answer. "It's like this," I begin. "You're not like other kids. You're very unusual."
"Because I'm from the past?"
"Something like that," Daniel hedges. "You see, it's *like* you're from the past, because that's what you remember, but really, what happened was some aliens took a piece of me and made you from it. You're a brand new person."
"Daniel?"
He looks at me steadily. "I won't lie to him."
"And I'm sure that's admirable, but is it a good idea to be so... specific?"
"Wait," Danny says. "You can't do that? You can't make copies of people?"
"Nope," I tell him. "And we wouldn't if we could." People would riot.
The kid wrinkles up his nose. "But you've got all that neat stuff. That really cool truck with the screen that was a moving map, like a map on TV except it knew where you were..."
"The On-Star system," Daniel supplies.
"Yeah, that. You can do that and Sam has that phone that's so small and she said it could take pictures too—how can a phone be a camera?—but you can't make people like the aliens did?"
"No," Daniel says patiently. "But Simmons wants to learn how the aliens did it."
"He thinks I know how? I don't know how. I don't remember any aliens."
"He thinks that maybe you remember something," Daniel tells him.
"Oh." The kid nods for a moment. "Like maybe I think I don't know it, but I really do? Because I was there and they made me, so maybe I know it?"
Daniel smiles proudly and nods. "That's about right. He also thinks you might know some other things."
"You don't miss much, do you?" I ask weakly. The kid is seven years old and he's already making me feel like I'm playing catch up.
Danny ignores me, a frown creasing his face as he taps a finger against his lips. "But I thought you came back in time for me. I'm... what? Clones are copies, like... like the shops in the marketplace that sell artifacts to tourists except they're not really artifacts. They're copies. Does that mean I'm not real?"
"No, no, you're real," Daniel assures him. "You were just born differently."
"From a piece of you."
Daniel nods. "Yes."
"How?"
Daniel looks to me for help, and I shrug. "We don't know," I tell the kid. "Remember, that's why Simmons wants to talk to you. He thinks you know."
"Oh." Danny ponders this for a minute, his head tilted to one side and that familiar line still persisting between his eyebrows. "I'm real, then? Even if I'm a clone, I'm still real?"
"Definitely," Daniel answers.
The kid considers this, and then seems to accept it, nodding thoughtfully. "I think I get it," he says, "but what about the other aliens? The bad aliens? He said they hurt you before and he wanted my help to fight them. Shouldn't I help?"
"What he wants won't help," Daniel says firmly. "Even if you could remember something, and we could make some kind of weapon out of it, which is what he wants, there's no guarantee that we'd know how to use it, or that it would be used on the right people. Those aliens chose not to share what they knew with us for a reason, so Simmons wants to steal what they wouldn't give freely."
The boy nods slowly, pondering this. "He *is* a bad man, isn't he?"
"Youbetcha," I tell him. "And if you ever see him and we're not around, don't believe anything he tells you, and absolutely don't go anywhere with him."
I expect the kid to have more questions about this—I mean, what seven year old understands kidnapping and the need to be guarded against it? But he simply accepts this as natural. Simmons is bad, therefore Simmons cannot be trusted and isn't safe.
"He's not going to go away, is he?" Daniel asks grimly. "He's like a wart that you just can't get rid of."
I can't help laughing at that, and the kid laughs too, looking relieved. I guess I looked a bit forbidding for a while there. "I thought we were toast when he showed up at the door and we were still in PJs," I say, grinning at the boy for good measure. "Nice save, Daniel."
"I was in college for a long time," he says airily. "I got very good at coming up with rational sounding explanations on my feet."
"I knew college had to be good for something."
He rolls his eyes. "Yes, Jack, and since we both know you have a Masters degree, don't bother giving me the 'me Colonel, me dumb' routine."
I borrow from Daniel's technique of smiling blandly and changing the subject. "So. I thought we'd go to the zoo today. How about it?"
"And the museum," Daniel adds. I shoot him a dirty look. He smiles and ignores it.
"Really?" the kid asks. "We can do that?"
"Yep," I tell him, reaching over to ruffle his hair. I have a hard time resisting doing that to adult Daniel. There's no way I'm going to manage to avoid it with the kid.
"Do they have camels at the zoo?"
Daniel smiles. "Yeah, I think they do."
"That's good," the boy muses. "I miss camels."
I shake my head at Daniel. Camels. How did I even end up with someone so strange? But then he grins at me, hugging the kid to his chest and just... shining. Right. That's how.
~~~
"He'll be fine."
Daniel frowns, folding his arms and digging in his heels. "Why can't he stay in my office? He likes it there. I'll be there."
"You won't be there all day," I argue. "You've got a department to run, you'll be called to the control room more than once to consult with teams off-world, you've got three briefings to give..."
"I'm amazed by your sudden grasp of my job, since you've always maintained that I do nothing but look at scribbles on old rocks," Daniel growls. "And it's not like he needs to be watched every second. He's a resourceful, independent kid."
"With the NID taking a none too healthy interest in him."
"All the more reason he should stay with me."
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Daniel, we just established that you wouldn't be with him! The mountain's childcare center is fully staffed with qualified professionals. It's extremely secure. They're accustomed to kids with high-profile parents, kids who may be at risk."
"I don't think he's ready to be handed over to complete strangers," Daniel says.
"Is that it? Or is it that you're not ready?"
Daniel scowls at me and turns away, glaring out the window. I'm glad the kid is still upstairs, showering and getting dressed. He tends to get upset whenever Daniel does. We've enjoyed a peaceful long weekend of downtime, but it looks like the vacation is over. I think it was peaceful mostly because I didn't push Daniel about telling me some of the nastier parts of his past. He's promised that he'll tell me when he's ready, and for now, I'm letting it go. For now.
"It's April," Daniel says abruptly. "Kids his age will be in school. The childcare center will be full of toddlers and he'll be out of place."
I move up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, keeping the pressure light. I'm not sure if he'll shrug it off or not. He does tense up for a moment, but then he sighs and turns into me, letting himself lean against my chest. I sling an arm around him in a sideways hug and kiss his temple, and he sighs again.
"He'll only be in the center until we can get him enrolled in school," I say.
"That's another thing. I remember school, especially right after I entered foster care. It was... not good. Maybe I could home-school him."
I rub my hand slowly up and down his arm for a few seconds, thinking. "You could do that, actually. I'm sure that academically, what you could teach him is way above what the public school system could teach."
Daniel brightens a bit, twisting to face me and nodding rapidly. "Yeah! And Sam could help with the science and math bits... I was never so hot at math. We've got Janet to teach him all kinds of medical stuff and of course, you've got so much experience. Leadership and logistics and piloting and astronomy..."
I cut him off with a quick kiss, smiling against his mouth. "Pleased as I am to hear that you think so much of my knowledge, all of us together could never teach him something important. Something that he can only learn at school."
"Yeah? What?"
"Social skills. Fun. How to be a kid, not a miniature adult."
"School is not fun," Daniel says firmly.
"Not for you."
"He *is* me!"
I shake my head, gripping Daniel's shoulders. "No. He stopped being you the second he woke up in the infirmary. He is no longer a lost child bouncing around the foster system and generally trying to survive on his own. He's a kid with a large extended family that would do anything for him. He is his own person, not a chance for you to fix your past."
"I know that," Daniel mumbles. "I know. I'm not trying to... I want things to be better for him than they were for me."
"That's what every parent wants," I tell him gently. "So we learn from your experiences, but we don't base his life around yours."
Daniel nods slowly, a little frown lingering around his mouth. "Then we should ask him what he wants. I always hated that, people making decisions for me without even asking my opinion. Let him have a say in things."
"Kayel?"
Daniel turns with a smile, opening his arms to the boy as he always does. So they do their hugging thing and Daniel deliberately leans closer to me, the kid between us, including me in what they're doing. Danny sighs happily and beams up at us, leaning his head back and butting it against my chest. It's nice, but I can't help noticing that while the kid calls me Jack, he never calls Daniel by name. It's always Kayel, which is probably a bad thing.
"Hiya, kid," I say. "You ready to go?"
He nods and tugs self-consciously at the collar of his new shirt. "Where am I going?" he asks, his face tense and expectant.
Daniel and I exchange a look. "We have some choices about that," Daniel says. "For now, there is a childcare facility where Jack and I work that you can stay in during the day. We're going to try and enroll you in school soon, though, so you can be with kids your own age."
"Oh." The kid pulls back slightly, his arms going around himself in a very familiar posture. Daniel sees this and pulls him right back in, rubbing his shoulder.
"Where would you like to go?"
Danny blinks up at us. "What? I get to choose?"
"We can't promise to do exactly what you want," I say before Daniel can do just that, "but we will listen, and try to compromise."
The kid smiles again, considerably more relaxed, and Daniel grins at me. I grin back and find myself ruffling the boy's hair. It's so conveniently placed at the right height. Makes it hard to resist.
"I guess school would be okay," he says slowly. "I've never been in school."
I raise my eyebrows and shoot Daniel a questioning look. "You haven't? Who taught you to read and write and all that?"
"My parents, mostly. I learned some languages from the site workers and from Fatima."
I mouth "Fatima?" at Daniel and he mouths back "Nanny."
Of course. Kid's parents didn't even have time for him when they were alive. No wonder he insists on constant attention whenever he's in the room.
"Well, we'll probably keep teaching you stuff at home," I tell him. "I know Daniel, especially, will be filling your head with all kinds of... stuff. Reading squiggles and identifying rocks and so forth."
"Your high regard for my chosen profession is underwhelming, Jack," Daniel says dryly. "And in turn, I'm sure you can teach Danny a great deal about how to tell people what to do and complain about missing your memos."
The kid laughs again, both hands pressed against his mouth until I pull them away. I crouch down to meet his eyes and keep my hands loosely wrapped around his wrists. "Listen," I say seriously. "I need you to do me a favor, okay?"
Danny blinks and nods gravely, his eyes big. "Okay, Jack. What is it?"
"I need you to not cover your mouth when you laugh. Can you do that for me?"
"Why?"
"Yes, Jack," Daniel adds, smiling, a suspicious warmth in his eyes. "Why?"
I glance around and then lower my voice, leaning in to speak in a conspirator's murmur. "It's for my knees."
The kid goggles at me for a moment and then frowns, tilting his head to one side. "What?"
"The sound," I say earnestly. "You see, when a kid laughs, the sound waves are different than when an adult does it. The higher frequency gets right into those little places where bones hook together—you know, the joints, and they help reduce swelling and heal damage. See, I've got bad knees, but every time you laugh around me, they get a little better."
Daniel gets very red in the face, but so far, he manages to stay quiet. The kid leans back and fixes me with a steely look, one eyebrow raised. "Nuh-uh," he says. "You're making that up."
"Would I do that?"
He glances up at Daniel, who immediately sells me out and nods vigorously. "He would. He absolutely would make something like that up."
"Daniel—"
He cuts me off with an upraised hand. "Let me finish. He *would* make something like that up, but this time, he isn't. I have it on good medical authority, straight from Doctor Janet herself, that Jack is required to hear a kid laugh every single day. Before you came along, he had to drive all the way down to the local park and follow kids around, telling them jokes and making faces."
The boy's eyes get very big. "He did? Really?"
"Yep," I say. "And then their moms would get mad at me because here I was, some weird guy chasing their kids around and telling bad jokes. It was a real hassle. So do you think you could help me out?"
"Okay," Danny says solemnly. "I promise not to cover my mouth when I laugh anymore."
"Excellent," I say in my Mr. Burns voice, and Daniel rolls his eyes.
"If we're going to stop by the childcare center and still make the briefing, we better get going."
"Right," I say, following Daniel toward the door. The boy walks beside me, peering curiously at my knees and offering me a look of concern. My hand falls naturally to his head again, resting there lightly as we walk. The concern melts away into a smile, one of those Daniel smiles that shines out of him.
Sweet.
~~~
"Who was that?"
Daniel and I exchange a look over his head. "He was a bad man," Daniel says simply.
"Yes," Danny nods. "I thought so. What was he talking about when he said there were aliens? And he said I'm a clone and I should remember stuff?"
That one is a bit tougher to answer. "It's like this," I begin. "You're not like other kids. You're very unusual."
"Because I'm from the past?"
"Something like that," Daniel hedges. "You see, it's *like* you're from the past, because that's what you remember, but really, what happened was some aliens took a piece of me and made you from it. You're a brand new person."
"Daniel?"
He looks at me steadily. "I won't lie to him."
"And I'm sure that's admirable, but is it a good idea to be so... specific?"
"Wait," Danny says. "You can't do that? You can't make copies of people?"
"Nope," I tell him. "And we wouldn't if we could." People would riot.
The kid wrinkles up his nose. "But you've got all that neat stuff. That really cool truck with the screen that was a moving map, like a map on TV except it knew where you were..."
"The On-Star system," Daniel supplies.
"Yeah, that. You can do that and Sam has that phone that's so small and she said it could take pictures too—how can a phone be a camera?—but you can't make people like the aliens did?"
"No," Daniel says patiently. "But Simmons wants to learn how the aliens did it."
"He thinks I know how? I don't know how. I don't remember any aliens."
"He thinks that maybe you remember something," Daniel tells him.
"Oh." The kid nods for a moment. "Like maybe I think I don't know it, but I really do? Because I was there and they made me, so maybe I know it?"
Daniel smiles proudly and nods. "That's about right. He also thinks you might know some other things."
"You don't miss much, do you?" I ask weakly. The kid is seven years old and he's already making me feel like I'm playing catch up.
Danny ignores me, a frown creasing his face as he taps a finger against his lips. "But I thought you came back in time for me. I'm... what? Clones are copies, like... like the shops in the marketplace that sell artifacts to tourists except they're not really artifacts. They're copies. Does that mean I'm not real?"
"No, no, you're real," Daniel assures him. "You were just born differently."
"From a piece of you."
Daniel nods. "Yes."
"How?"
Daniel looks to me for help, and I shrug. "We don't know," I tell the kid. "Remember, that's why Simmons wants to talk to you. He thinks you know."
"Oh." Danny ponders this for a minute, his head tilted to one side and that familiar line still persisting between his eyebrows. "I'm real, then? Even if I'm a clone, I'm still real?"
"Definitely," Daniel answers.
The kid considers this, and then seems to accept it, nodding thoughtfully. "I think I get it," he says, "but what about the other aliens? The bad aliens? He said they hurt you before and he wanted my help to fight them. Shouldn't I help?"
"What he wants won't help," Daniel says firmly. "Even if you could remember something, and we could make some kind of weapon out of it, which is what he wants, there's no guarantee that we'd know how to use it, or that it would be used on the right people. Those aliens chose not to share what they knew with us for a reason, so Simmons wants to steal what they wouldn't give freely."
The boy nods slowly, pondering this. "He *is* a bad man, isn't he?"
"Youbetcha," I tell him. "And if you ever see him and we're not around, don't believe anything he tells you, and absolutely don't go anywhere with him."
I expect the kid to have more questions about this—I mean, what seven year old understands kidnapping and the need to be guarded against it? But he simply accepts this as natural. Simmons is bad, therefore Simmons cannot be trusted and isn't safe.
"He's not going to go away, is he?" Daniel asks grimly. "He's like a wart that you just can't get rid of."
I can't help laughing at that, and the kid laughs too, looking relieved. I guess I looked a bit forbidding for a while there. "I thought we were toast when he showed up at the door and we were still in PJs," I say, grinning at the boy for good measure. "Nice save, Daniel."
"I was in college for a long time," he says airily. "I got very good at coming up with rational sounding explanations on my feet."
"I knew college had to be good for something."
He rolls his eyes. "Yes, Jack, and since we both know you have a Masters degree, don't bother giving me the 'me Colonel, me dumb' routine."
I borrow from Daniel's technique of smiling blandly and changing the subject. "So. I thought we'd go to the zoo today. How about it?"
"And the museum," Daniel adds. I shoot him a dirty look. He smiles and ignores it.
"Really?" the kid asks. "We can do that?"
"Yep," I tell him, reaching over to ruffle his hair. I have a hard time resisting doing that to adult Daniel. There's no way I'm going to manage to avoid it with the kid.
"Do they have camels at the zoo?"
Daniel smiles. "Yeah, I think they do."
"That's good," the boy muses. "I miss camels."
I shake my head at Daniel. Camels. How did I even end up with someone so strange? But then he grins at me, hugging the kid to his chest and just... shining. Right. That's how.
~~~
"He'll be fine."
Daniel frowns, folding his arms and digging in his heels. "Why can't he stay in my office? He likes it there. I'll be there."
"You won't be there all day," I argue. "You've got a department to run, you'll be called to the control room more than once to consult with teams off-world, you've got three briefings to give..."
"I'm amazed by your sudden grasp of my job, since you've always maintained that I do nothing but look at scribbles on old rocks," Daniel growls. "And it's not like he needs to be watched every second. He's a resourceful, independent kid."
"With the NID taking a none too healthy interest in him."
"All the more reason he should stay with me."
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Daniel, we just established that you wouldn't be with him! The mountain's childcare center is fully staffed with qualified professionals. It's extremely secure. They're accustomed to kids with high-profile parents, kids who may be at risk."
"I don't think he's ready to be handed over to complete strangers," Daniel says.
"Is that it? Or is it that you're not ready?"
Daniel scowls at me and turns away, glaring out the window. I'm glad the kid is still upstairs, showering and getting dressed. He tends to get upset whenever Daniel does. We've enjoyed a peaceful long weekend of downtime, but it looks like the vacation is over. I think it was peaceful mostly because I didn't push Daniel about telling me some of the nastier parts of his past. He's promised that he'll tell me when he's ready, and for now, I'm letting it go. For now.
"It's April," Daniel says abruptly. "Kids his age will be in school. The childcare center will be full of toddlers and he'll be out of place."
I move up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, keeping the pressure light. I'm not sure if he'll shrug it off or not. He does tense up for a moment, but then he sighs and turns into me, letting himself lean against my chest. I sling an arm around him in a sideways hug and kiss his temple, and he sighs again.
"He'll only be in the center until we can get him enrolled in school," I say.
"That's another thing. I remember school, especially right after I entered foster care. It was... not good. Maybe I could home-school him."
I rub my hand slowly up and down his arm for a few seconds, thinking. "You could do that, actually. I'm sure that academically, what you could teach him is way above what the public school system could teach."
Daniel brightens a bit, twisting to face me and nodding rapidly. "Yeah! And Sam could help with the science and math bits... I was never so hot at math. We've got Janet to teach him all kinds of medical stuff and of course, you've got so much experience. Leadership and logistics and piloting and astronomy..."
I cut him off with a quick kiss, smiling against his mouth. "Pleased as I am to hear that you think so much of my knowledge, all of us together could never teach him something important. Something that he can only learn at school."
"Yeah? What?"
"Social skills. Fun. How to be a kid, not a miniature adult."
"School is not fun," Daniel says firmly.
"Not for you."
"He *is* me!"
I shake my head, gripping Daniel's shoulders. "No. He stopped being you the second he woke up in the infirmary. He is no longer a lost child bouncing around the foster system and generally trying to survive on his own. He's a kid with a large extended family that would do anything for him. He is his own person, not a chance for you to fix your past."
"I know that," Daniel mumbles. "I know. I'm not trying to... I want things to be better for him than they were for me."
"That's what every parent wants," I tell him gently. "So we learn from your experiences, but we don't base his life around yours."
Daniel nods slowly, a little frown lingering around his mouth. "Then we should ask him what he wants. I always hated that, people making decisions for me without even asking my opinion. Let him have a say in things."
"Kayel?"
Daniel turns with a smile, opening his arms to the boy as he always does. So they do their hugging thing and Daniel deliberately leans closer to me, the kid between us, including me in what they're doing. Danny sighs happily and beams up at us, leaning his head back and butting it against my chest. It's nice, but I can't help noticing that while the kid calls me Jack, he never calls Daniel by name. It's always Kayel, which is probably a bad thing.
"Hiya, kid," I say. "You ready to go?"
He nods and tugs self-consciously at the collar of his new shirt. "Where am I going?" he asks, his face tense and expectant.
Daniel and I exchange a look. "We have some choices about that," Daniel says. "For now, there is a childcare facility where Jack and I work that you can stay in during the day. We're going to try and enroll you in school soon, though, so you can be with kids your own age."
"Oh." The kid pulls back slightly, his arms going around himself in a very familiar posture. Daniel sees this and pulls him right back in, rubbing his shoulder.
"Where would you like to go?"
Danny blinks up at us. "What? I get to choose?"
"We can't promise to do exactly what you want," I say before Daniel can do just that, "but we will listen, and try to compromise."
The kid smiles again, considerably more relaxed, and Daniel grins at me. I grin back and find myself ruffling the boy's hair. It's so conveniently placed at the right height. Makes it hard to resist.
"I guess school would be okay," he says slowly. "I've never been in school."
I raise my eyebrows and shoot Daniel a questioning look. "You haven't? Who taught you to read and write and all that?"
"My parents, mostly. I learned some languages from the site workers and from Fatima."
I mouth "Fatima?" at Daniel and he mouths back "Nanny."
Of course. Kid's parents didn't even have time for him when they were alive. No wonder he insists on constant attention whenever he's in the room.
"Well, we'll probably keep teaching you stuff at home," I tell him. "I know Daniel, especially, will be filling your head with all kinds of... stuff. Reading squiggles and identifying rocks and so forth."
"Your high regard for my chosen profession is underwhelming, Jack," Daniel says dryly. "And in turn, I'm sure you can teach Danny a great deal about how to tell people what to do and complain about missing your memos."
The kid laughs again, both hands pressed against his mouth until I pull them away. I crouch down to meet his eyes and keep my hands loosely wrapped around his wrists. "Listen," I say seriously. "I need you to do me a favor, okay?"
Danny blinks and nods gravely, his eyes big. "Okay, Jack. What is it?"
"I need you to not cover your mouth when you laugh. Can you do that for me?"
"Why?"
"Yes, Jack," Daniel adds, smiling, a suspicious warmth in his eyes. "Why?"
I glance around and then lower my voice, leaning in to speak in a conspirator's murmur. "It's for my knees."
The kid goggles at me for a moment and then frowns, tilting his head to one side. "What?"
"The sound," I say earnestly. "You see, when a kid laughs, the sound waves are different than when an adult does it. The higher frequency gets right into those little places where bones hook together—you know, the joints, and they help reduce swelling and heal damage. See, I've got bad knees, but every time you laugh around me, they get a little better."
Daniel gets very red in the face, but so far, he manages to stay quiet. The kid leans back and fixes me with a steely look, one eyebrow raised. "Nuh-uh," he says. "You're making that up."
"Would I do that?"
He glances up at Daniel, who immediately sells me out and nods vigorously. "He would. He absolutely would make something like that up."
"Daniel—"
He cuts me off with an upraised hand. "Let me finish. He *would* make something like that up, but this time, he isn't. I have it on good medical authority, straight from Doctor Janet herself, that Jack is required to hear a kid laugh every single day. Before you came along, he had to drive all the way down to the local park and follow kids around, telling them jokes and making faces."
The boy's eyes get very big. "He did? Really?"
"Yep," I say. "And then their moms would get mad at me because here I was, some weird guy chasing their kids around and telling bad jokes. It was a real hassle. So do you think you could help me out?"
"Okay," Danny says solemnly. "I promise not to cover my mouth when I laugh anymore."
"Excellent," I say in my Mr. Burns voice, and Daniel rolls his eyes.
"If we're going to stop by the childcare center and still make the briefing, we better get going."
"Right," I say, following Daniel toward the door. The boy walks beside me, peering curiously at my knees and offering me a look of concern. My hand falls naturally to his head again, resting there lightly as we walk. The concern melts away into a smile, one of those Daniel smiles that shines out of him.
Sweet.
~~~