All claims, disclaimers and acknowledgements for this story are posted in the Author's Note at the beginning of Chapter 1.

THE OUTLAW

3.Assessment.

The three of them met Yumi at lunchtime.She was still morose. They all were, really. Mr. Maillard had just been buried the previous week. He was O.K. as teachers went; none of them had particularly liked or disliked him, but it is always hard when someone one is accustomed to dies, and it is much worse when one sees it happen, as Yumi had.

The natural topic of conversation, therefore, was Maillard's replacement.

"He's evil, I tell you!" Ulrich said. "Odd, I wouldn't read that book if I were you! He'll probably use it to brainwash you!"

"Ulrich, do you have any idea how paranoid you sound?" asked Jeremy.

"Hmm… 'The Charge Of The Light Brigade', 'Crossing The Bar', 'O Captain My Captain', 'Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night'… what's this one? 'Dulce Et Decorum Est?' What's that, something in Latin?"

"Please, Odd, don't read any of that around me!" said Yumi. She had read "Dulce Et Decorum Est" before, and now it reminded her too much of how Maillard had died. She wanted to throw up. "I have to leave now!" she said, and she raced toward the bathroom.

They were all watching her run from them when they heard a voice behind them say: "Well, well, it seems as if Yumi has finally become allergic to you all!"

"Well, Sissy," Ulrich replied, "she's not been feeling well lately, and then you came by and your perfume was too much for her."

"It's almost too much for me too!" added Odd. "Fortunately, I've got a strong appetite," he continued as he launched into his dessert.

"Hm!" exclaimed Sissy. "Don't get any of that cake on Mr. Flowerdew's book or he might go nuts on you!"

"Gee, Sissy, I didn't know you cared" replied Odd as he rested his chin on his upturned palm and fluttered his eyelids at her.

Sissy growled, turned on her heels, and walked away.

"One good thing about Sissy," Odd said, "no matter how low you get, she's always good for a laugh!"

"She's right about the book, though," said Ulrich. "Don't let anything touch it!"

"Or else what?" asked Odd. What's he going to do, kill me?"

"Maybe," replied Ulrich, "you never can tell…"

"Ulrich, you're overreacting," Jeremy interjected. "Mr. Flowerdew is a teacher, and maybe a bit of a zealot, but he's not a murderer. Sure he'd be upset. He'd probably punish Odd. He might make him pay for the book. But that's as far as it can go! What's the worst that he can do?"

During the rest of the week, they found out the worst Mr. Flowerdew could do. At least, they hoped that was the worst. Their classes were filled with his rules and lectures and tangents and drama, and their nights were filled with his homework. He hovered like a seagull over them, waiting for the slightest infraction, the appearance of which would cause him to swoop down and strike. He caught Odd drawing his usual picture of Kiwi peeing against a rock, had the drawing passed around the classroom, and added to the class's homework a one-page critique of the drawing. Odd got a different assignment, though; he was to write two pages about the drawing, which was to include descriptions of his inspiration and his technique. "Be thankful you only got two pages. After all," he said, "a picture is usually worth a thousand words!"

The steely eye and hovering manner he exhibited in the classroom was equally evident in his marking of their homework, as was his sarcastic wit. Not even Jeremy was immune to his scrutiny; one of his assignments was even visited upon with the indignity of a B-plus. "Had it been worse," Mr. Flowerdew wrote on Jeremy's assignment, "I would have given it a C-double-plus, since that appears to be the language in which it is written."

"Ulrich's right!" Odd said to his two companions over breakfast that Saturday. "He's a monster! We won't have a moment's peace while he's around!"

"Well, he is harsh," replied Jeremy, "but he's not that bad. On the bright side, at least no-one told him about Kiwi when he gave us that extra assignment!"

"I still say he's worse news than he's been so far," said Ulrich. "He's just not right. And I don't mean the homework, and the hard grades, and the sarcasm. There's just something not right about him, that's all."

"I wish Yumi was herself again," replied Jeremy. "She'd show you that you're just being ridiculous."

"Well, I wish Yumi was herself again too," retorted Ulrich a little too harshly. "She'd tell you what I'm telling you, only so you'd understand!"

With that, they had touched on a subject against which all their tribulations with Mr. Flowerdew paled by comparison. Yumi was decidedly not herself. She hardly ate, and usually could not hold down what little she had eaten. The toilet bowl saw more of her face than the cafeteria did. She barely slept, and toward the end of the week she seemed to be in a perpetual daze. She had stopped training with Ulrich, and had become pale and weak.

The worst for Jeremy had come the night before his conversation with Ulrich and Odd about Mr. Flowerdew. He had woken up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep, so he went online and worked on anti-virus program for Aelita. He got stuck (again! he thought disdainfully) so he stopped for a while and was chatting with Aelita.

His cell phone rang. "Who'd be calling me at this hour?" he asked himself.

"I don't know!" replied Aelita. "I hope there's nothing wrong!"

There was something wrong, but there was nothing Jeremy could do but listen. It was Yumi, and she wanted to talk.

"The last time we were on the 'phone at this time of night," Jeremy told Yumi, "you mixed up the 'phone and the alarm clock."

"I can't sleep!" Yumi croaked. "I keep seeing him, seeing his face, hearing him scream! You can't understand how horrible it was!"

He couldn't understand. He knew he couldn't understand. Even though Yumi was describing it to him again, even though he was hearing exactly the same story for the third time, he did not have enough imagination to comprehend how horrible it was. From how it was described, however, Jeremy was, for probably the only time in his life, thankful for his limitations. It was a scene from Hell, and Jeremy thought that if such a place as Hell existed, it would be at least like living through the scene described for every moment throughout all existence.

And yet he did not know which was worse, the horrible scene described by Yumi, or hearing her, who had always been the strongest of the team both in mind and in spirit, fearfully whimpering and sobbing like a scared little girl. He felt as if his heart would collapse. By the time the call ended, he looked as pale and jittery as Yumi had when he saw her last.

Aelita, shocked by Jeremy's appearance when he returned to the computer, exclaimed "Jeremy! What happened?"

"It's Yumi. She's… well, she's a bit down" Jeremy understated. Grossly.

"She's probably devastated. From what you told me, it sounded horrible!"

"It did. It still does."

"Do you think that maybe this has gone on too long?" Aelita asked.

"What do you mean, Aelita?"

"I mean Maillard wasn't the first, and he might not be the last, unless…"

"Unless what?" Jeremy asked, knowing what Aelita was going to say and not wanting to hear it.

"Unless you pull the plug on XANA."

"With you still linked to him by that virus? Not an option!"

"Maybe it should be. Who knows what will happen if you fail against XANA the next time he attacks? He might destroy the school, even the whole city!"

"None of us would even think of it!"

"Come on, Jeremy; Yumi's probably thinking of it right now! And I'm sure it's crossed all of your minds since your teacher's death. Even yours."

"I… I can't… you can't… I just need a little time!" Jeremy exclaimed. "The program's almost finished! A few days, maybe a few weeks, and you'll be here safely with us, free of XANA! Then we can pull the plug. But I won't let anyone destroy you, Aelita!"

"But you would let me destroy others." Aelita replied.

"Why would you destroy anyone?" Jeremy asked.

"I already have, haven't I? If it wasn't for me, your teacher would still be alive."

Silence. Cold, hard silence. Jeremy shivered.

"Jeremy?"

"I have to sleep now, Aelita. I'll talk with you again tomorrow. Well, later today, actually."

"Think about it. Ask the others what they think."

"We'll talk later. Right now I have to sleep." It was not entirely a lie; he really needed to sleep. He knew, though, that he would not sleep. He couldn't sleep after what Yumi had told him and, even if somehow he could, what Aelita told him ensured that he would be staring at the opposing wall until the light through his window would allow him to see it.