Jesse wearily directed his footsteps to the lounge, flopping into the nearest chair and letting his head loll back. He closed his eyes, wishing that he didn't have so many questions, that he had more answers to demands that the others would aim his way. The other two watched him in silence, waiting and hoping for the words that would imply I can fix this. It had been six hours, six hours of staring at the computer screen, comparing and discarding hundreds of possible solutions. Nothing seemed to match up with Brennan's condition. A chelating solution. What had Adam meant? Which chelating solution?

Shalimar took hold of her 'little brother's' shoulders, rubbing and trying to work the knots out, muscles tense from many hours of non-stop computer work—and tension. Jesse groaned, frustration warring with the sheer relief of the ache.

"Well?" Brennan was trying not to be belligerent. Fear made him harsh; fear for the others, and for himself. He had only just found a home for himself; Brennan Mulwray, a man always on the run. This was now his family. Would he have to give them up to save them?

"He's stable right now," Jesse replied, not taking offense. The other two knew who he meant. "He's sleeping, and his heart rate is regular. His color is better."

"Emma?"

"Curled up next to Adam," Jesse replied, hastily adding, "in a chair, of course. As long as she's resting, I'm satisfied. Whatever it was—" and Jesse carefully avoided blaming Brennan for the disaster—"she got a lighter dose. She's tired out from it, but she'll be all right."

"She should be in bed," was Shalimar's opinion.

Jesse shrugged. "As long as she's resting," he repeated. "It would have been worse to drag her away from Adam. I've got monitors and alarms on them both, so neither one can lift a finger without my knowing about it. Don't go blaming yourself, Brennan," he added, knowing what the other man was thinking. "This is not your fault."

Brennan had huddled himself at the far end of the room, a ball of misery. Normally stretched out, lean and lanky and in control of any environment, this time he sat hunched on one end of the lounger, arms wrapped around long legs, trying to melt into the fabric of the furniture. "Who should we blame? Who else goes snap, crackle, pop?" He snapped his fingers to emphasize his words. An over-large arc cascaded upward, sending a shower of sparks into the air. Whatever was going on with the elemental, it was getting worse.

"You didn't ask for this to happen," Shalimar replied tartly. "What we need to do now is to figure out how to fix it."

"Right. Of course, it would be easier if I didn't nearly kill off the one man who could cure me."

Jesse ignored the elemental's bitter half-growl, half-wail. "Adam said that there was a cure, a solution to what's going on with you. I'll need to wait until I can move Adam out of the bio-bed and into his own room before I scan you again. That should give me more data to work with. In the meantime, why don't you blow off a little steam somewhere?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "You're making my hair stand on end, Sparky." He changed the subject before Brennan could bolt. "And what about Carlos, Shal? Find him?"

"Oh, yeah."

"That sounds good. You two have a conversation before you tore him to shreds?"

"Not as much as I would have liked," Shalimar admitted, "on either front. Being a feral, he was as agile as I was. Being an avian feral, naturally he took to the air."

"But he did talk before high-tailing it out of there?" Brennan sat up, hoping for a chance to go somewhere and wreak some serious damage. It was what his mood needed. "You pulled some of his tail feathers?"

"Sorry, no. But he did seem surprised that we thought it was about his sister. 'Strictly business' was the term he used."

"Business?" Jesse repeated, confusion registering on his even features. The others could still see him trying to wrestle with the bio-chemical equations in his head, and not making the transition to other more mundane topics. "How is killing someone business?"

Brennan scowled. "Adam and Emma are not the only ones who need rest," he muttered darkly. He glanced at the watch on his wrist, and frowned; it had stopped working. But the one on the far wall hadn't, and it showed it to be nearly midnight. "Go to bed, Jesse. Get some sleep. You'll be able to find the answer to this in the morning."

Shalimar nodded in agreement. Her 'little brother' looked worn out and just shy of frantic. "Plus, by then Adam will be awake if not exactly chipper. He'll be able to tell you where to look for the solution. You can get started on it then."

Jesse sighed. "I guess you're right, guys. I'm not thinking straight. I could be looking at the answer right now and never know it." He sighed again, tried to hoist himself to his feet, and failed.

Brennan automatically extended a hand to his teammate, and Jesse reached out to take it, not thinking about what he was doing. A giant flash of electricity arced across the intervening space. Jesse yelped.

"Man, I'm sorry," Brennan exclaimed, pulling his hand back, afraid that the little sparks that were now dancing around his fingertips would fire off again. He stepped backward.

"It's okay, man. You didn't mean it." Jesse was now wide awake, and on his feet. He shook his head, then his hand. "Better than coffee for waking a guy up," he quipped. "I needed that."

But Brennan saw the scorch mark on the man's palm.

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Compared to the hunched over figure huddled in front of the computer, Shalimar looked a vision of loveliness. Her golden locks were freshly showered into ringlets and the pullover top she wore covered only the essentials, leaving the rest of her free to move and stretch unencumbered. Yet that was only half the attraction in observing her, for Shalimar Fox was poetry in motion. She made something as simple as walking down the hall an elegant exercise in dance.

She ambled into the computer lab, snaking a companionable arm around Jesse's shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged back outside because it wasn't fresh enough," she greeted the man in annoyance. "Jess, did you get any rest at all last night? Did you sleep?"

"Enough." Jesse didn't move from the stool, still peering at the computer screen, deciphering the verbiage spinning past. "I think I'm getting closer to the answer."

"Why am I not convinced?"

"Perhaps because he's only saying that to keep your hopes up." Emma walked in to join them, a tray in her hands. The aroma of freshly-brewed coffee wafted toward them. "Jesse's no closer to a solution than last night. And no, he didn't get any sleep. I could sense his thoughtsduring thenight, every time I turned over."

"Emma," Shalimar greeted her fellow mutant. "You're up. How are you feeling?"

"A little shaky, but fine," Emma admitted, setting the tray down on the nearby counter top. She shuddered. "It was a close call. If you hadn't gotten Brennan away from us, both Adam and I wouldn't be here now."

Shalimar handed a mug to Jesse who inhaled it gratefully, ignoring the scalding of his tongue. Shalimar sipped at another. "We were lucky."

"You've been reading my mind, all night long?" Jesse accused. The first jolt of caffeine was hitting his system, and helping him to wake up. Already he looked brighter. "I thought you didn't read minds without permission. And yes, I am so closer to a solution."

"I don't, and you're not. You were broadcasting, Jesse, loud and clear, and all through the night I sensed frustration from you, just like I am now. I was feeling for Adam, and your thoughts intruded. Speaking of whom, what are you doing up?" Emma turned around to greet their mentor, not entirely pleased to see him walking around, hands tucked into his robe.

Adam smiled broadly at them, trying to appear the picture of health and vitality. He didn't quite pull it off. "I got tired of staying in bed. I can rest just fine right here," he added, glaring at Emma, daring her to contradict him. "In fact, I'm fine right now. Where's Brennan? I need to run some tests on him."

"You are so not fine," Shalimar chided him, taking one arm firmly in hers and allowing Emma to grasp the other. Neither one was fooled by his attempt at a pretended recuperative miracle. "Adam, you nearly died."

"Hmm. I remember a certain feral who, after being wiped out by an elemental who shall go unnamed, tried to insist on getting up that evening."

"Yes, but you said no."

"Whereupon you got up anyways and fell flat on your face. You laid there on the floor until I came by and found you and picked you up."

"Which is why," Shalimar told him sternly, "that you too should be in bed. You're bigger than I am, and I'll have more trouble picking you up." She and Emma escorted the man to the lounger, guiding him away from the computer console where he tried to steer his feet. And if Adam's knees sat him down a little faster than he had anticipated, no one mentioned it.

But Adam wasn't done yet. "At least tell me what you've found out, Jesse."

Jesse was more than happy to oblige. "You steered me onto the electro-magnetic solutions, although I haven't been able to isolate the causative agent," he started. "I've been doing computer simulations to try—"

"Did you try the manganese-chromium combination?"

"No, but—"

"What about the ferrous sulfate in a zinc oxide base solution?"

"Adam—"

"At least tell me that you explored the hemato-ferrous link."

"Adam!" Jesse finally broke in. "Adam, I haven't even been able to scan Brennan a second time." He indicated the bio-bed that sat beyond the lab window into the clinic area. Several parts were stripped down and lay on the floor, looking for a permanent home. The soft cushioning looked distinctly charred. "Every time I got Brennan near anything containing iron, he started sparking. Even I couldn't get too close to him." Jesse held up the palm of his hand which still held the outline of a fading red second degree burn. "Not his fault, but not something I'd care to experience at a more intense level."

"Which is why we use computer simulations." Adam tried to contain his impatience. Jesse wasn't stupid—not of them were—but he didn't have Adam's years of training as a researcher or his background in medicine. "In fact, putting him in a room with explosives would be suicide. One spark, and the whole place would go up in a fire ball, taking Brennan with it. Plug in the hemato-ferrous equation into the computer, put in ratios of one to ten, and see what the simulation gives us. Pull Brennan's file specs and cross-match the antigens." He turned to Shalimar, mindful of both girls' unvoiced intent to keep the older man sitting down, resenting it but aware that annoyance was futile. "Go get Brennan. I should be able to talk Jesse through to an antidote within thirty minutes. He should be a very happy camper to hear that."

"Uh, Adam?"

"What, Jesse? Doesn't the hemato-ferrous solution work? We can try—"

"It's not that," Jesse interrupted, aware that his next words were not going to please Adam. "Brennan's not here."

"What?" Adam was appalled. "He shouldn't be out of Sanctuary right now. Not in his condition. Think of the damage he could be doing to himself."

"Think of the damage he could be doing to Sanctuary," Jesse pointed out in a reasonable tone. "Adam, he fried a computer, he shorted out the bio-bed, and he nearly took down one of the generators trying to relieve a little of the head he'd built up. He went to his room, and he now is out one hideously expensive audio system. The only thing that wasn't charred was a single tweeter hiding behind the woofer."

Adam groaned. "This has gone further than I'd thought. We have to get to Brennan right away." He came to a decision. "Jesse, run the simulation. As soon as it clears, you and I will create the serum to cure Brennan. Shalimar, Emma, you two track down Brennan and get him back here. Try not to get too close to him. We'll put him in the hydroponics garden where there aren't any iron products to stimulate his nervous system. Jesse, where did you send him?"

Jesse was already tapping in the program to the computer. "Nowhere in particular. I told him to go someplace where there wasn't any electronics or even metal. And to come back when he'd powered down." He pointed to a small lump of gold on the table beside him and shrugged unhappily. "Tracking him isn't going to be easy. That is all that's left of Brennan's comm. ring." He grimaced. "Slagged."

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"Ms. Manse."

At seven AM in the morning, dark with autumn's refusal to start the day in a timely fashion, there were no happy inhabitants of the room.

One of the more unhappy campers was Ms. Manse. Summoned to the office with unseemly haste, she was held securely by the arms by two burly men. Which was a good thing, because at the moment she could hardly stand. Her hair fell into her eyes, her clothes—hastily donned—were disheveled, and there hadn't been an opportunity for eye-liner, let alone the rest of her usual morning ablutions. Being dumped out of bed, tossed around a few times, and then dragged into a long black sedan to roar away into the night tended to do that to one. The two burly men were equally unhappy at the hour but for them, being trained within an inch of their lives, admitting their unhappiness was not an option.

Mason Eckhart was under no such constraints. He was unhappy, he was displeased, and he expected to make that abundantly clear to his underling.

"Ms. Manse," he repeated, every letter echoing crisply in the air. He waved a slender sheaf of papers in his hand. "What is this?"

Carla Manse recognized it instantly, which was an impressive feat since she could barely see through one eye that was almost swollen shut. The shiner that was developing was equally as impressive. "My…my progress report, sir."

"Yes, you did turn it in as I requested. And this time, unfortunately for you, you included details. Again as I requested." Eckhart allowed an angry frown to settle on his lips. "You should have included those details from the first, Ms. Manse. I would have thrown you and your plan out of my office, and then we would not be having this conversation."

Ms. Manse swallowed hard.

"I do not waste assets, Ms. Manse, even when they are not yet under my control. Your plan to capture the members of Mutant X is unacceptable. How do you expect to remedy the situation?"

She licked her lips, hoping that her voice would cooperate. "Sir, as long as Mutant X has such a strong leader they will act in a cohesive manner. Capturing them is unrealistic while he is in the picture—"

"Murdering Adam Kane is unacceptable!" Eckhart thundered. "That man is the premier researcher in the field of genetics! He is the key to solving some of the most perplexing problems that Genomex faces! I will not have him lost to us!"

"But, sir, he's not working for Genomex—"

"His research, whether done under our control or not, is vital to this organization! Do I make myself clear, Ms. Manse?"

"Yes, sir." The words were muffled by puffy lips swollen by cuts in three places.

"Let me make myself even clearer. You will cancel the contract with Mr. Del Castillo immediately. Because if he succeeds in killing Adam Kane, the next contract he accepts from you should be for your own demise. And rest assured, Ms. Manse, that Mr. Del Castillo will be far more merciful than I."