CHAPTER 10

CONVERSATIONS

"I'm sorry," Frankie said at last. "It's my fault you feel this way. You saved my life, and all I've done is push you away."

Drawing a deep breath, Jason sat up and wiped the tears from his face, smiling weakly. "No, it's not your fault," he said softly. "You were too terrified to think. And I've been in limbo too long for my brain to work properly."

"Maybe you'll feel better if you eat something," Dr. Albert suggested. Rising to her feet, she headed toward the kitchen.

"That's alright. I've already made coffee."

The woman across the room stopped dead in her tracks and spun around, seeing him reach for his mug. "You made…" Unable to take this in, she went to the kitchen, seeing the freshly brewed coffee steaming in its pot on the counter. "You made coffee!" she gasped.

"I just said that."

"He still doesn't see it," she muttered, shaking her head. Frankie filled an ice bag and then poured herself a cup of what turned out to be excellent coffee. Returning to the living room she found the young man investigating the contents of her first aid kit and wondered just what else he could do. Sitting down beside him, she held the ice bag to her face with one hand and offered him the other, or more accurately, her raw and badly discolored wrist. "Do you think you could wrap this for me?" she asked casually. "I'm afraid I only have two hands."

Jason gave her a sideways glance before obliging. Then, without realizing, the physician in him took over. He took what he needed from the box and quickly treated and dressed the injury. Dr. Albert was astonished at his speed and dexterity and checked herself as she was about to comment on this. Perhaps this will help him remember something about himself, she thought. Not wanting to break his concentration, she said nothing until he was finished. "You've certainly done that before." Her tone left no doubt that she was clearly impressed.

Jason gave a self-conscious half smile, lowering his eyes. "They really did a number on you, didn't they? Barbarians," he said darkly. Looking up, he added, "You should've kicked him in the teeth instead of the stomach."

Now it was Frankie's turn to be embarrassed, and she cleared her throat. "Actually, I…uh, wasn't aiming that high."

The Alterran's eyes lit up and then a broad smile spread across his handsome face. For the first time, Frankie saw him genuinely smile. "Dr. Francesca Albert, you are a tiger, there's no doubt of that," he grinned admiringly.

With her injuries now bandaged, Frankie sat back, lowering the ice bag to scrutinize the amazing person who sat beside her. "Do you really want me to call you Chris?" she asked pointedly.

"You might as well," the young man sighed. He reached over, returning the ice pack to her face. "And you'd better keep that on, if you don't want that eye swollen shut in the morning."

Dr. Albert did as she was told and then drew a deep breath. "Alright, Chris," she said seriously, "what, exactly, do you know about yourself? Just how much do you remember?"

"Very little."

Jason went on to relate to the intrigued woman the full extent of his memory loss. He only vaguely remembered coming to his senses on what must have been his third day in the tank. He told her of his strange detachment from reality and clouded thinking, his mind only seeming to have started functioning properly that very evening. And yet even now everything wasn't completely clear. "I knew you'd be alright with me underwater," he admitted in bewilderment, "but I don't know how I knew."

"You saved my life," Frankie said gratefully. "And all I've done is make you feel uncomfortable because of it."

"Now don't start that again."

"It's true, isn't it?"

"Well…" the young man said evasively, lowering his eyes again. "I think…it's very likely you're the one who saved my life. I must've been sick, or hurt, or something the day I was found." Looking up, he shook his head in bewilderment. "Why else would I be so…so… violent? And why was I green?"

Without thinking, Dr. Albert replied, "Maybe it's because you're—" Suddenly realizing what she was about to say, she bit off her own words, but it was already too late.

"Maybe it's because I really am the Guardian?" the young man said soberly. Receiving a hesitant nod in reply, he sighed heavily. "I've thought of that, too. And I don't like the idea anymore than you do."

"It would explain an awful lot about you if it were true," Frankie muttered thoughtfully. See ing the youth's pained and frightened expression, she waved a hand dismissively. "What am I saying? It's a myth. Your being found now is just a coincidence. You couldn't possibly be the Guardian. That would make you more than ten thousand years old."

There was a long and awkward silence before Jason finally asked, "Can you tell me about it? This Guardian? What does it have to do with those men at the Center tonight?"

"Oh Lord, where do I start?" Frankie replied, rolling her eyes. She told Jason of the ancient myth of Jaka and the war of the gods, explaining about the lost power source entrusted to the Guardian for protection. She then told him of the more recent events including the appearance of the self-proclaimed High Priest Brogan and his secretive Cult.

"There are supposed to be clues as to the whereabouts of the lost power somewhere around the Temple," Dr. Albert was saying. "Supposedly, only the faithful can decipher the clues and thereby appease the Guardian, who is then supposed to release the imprisoned Jaka and restore his power to him."

Jason scowled. "And Brogan believes all this nonsense?"

"Probably not. He believes there's some kind of treasure, though. He's been going over every square inch of that crumbling old Temple with a magnifying glass for the last three years, and hasn't found anything that could even remotely be considered a power source."

"No. You did," came the startling reply.

"What?"

"Or more accurately, Mr. Harris did." Seeing the puzzled look on her face, Jason reminded, "Frankie, the chest."

Putting her head in her hands, the tired and bruised woman moaned, "Oh, I've been such a fool. Of course. The chest. I should've realized that's what they were after all along." It suddenly occurred to her that he shouldn't even know about it and she asked him pointblank how he did.

"How do I…?" The Alterran blinked. "Frankie, I was there when they put you in the airlock, remember? Johnson said something about grabbing 'the chest' and getting out the back way. And before you arrived, he told Brogan that Harris was the one who'd found it."

"And Brogan said I was condemned because I'd touched the power of Jaka," she concluded, giving the young man an admiring look. "You know? You're very observant—"

"For a creature from the sea?" Jason ventured innocently.

Dr. Albert smiled. "Something like that."

After a brief pause, Jason said thoughtfully, "Maybe I should have a look at this Temple. It might shed some light on who I am. And, hopefully, who I am not."

Frankie nodded slowly, the expression on her face puzzling the young man beside her. Without looking up, she said, "I wish I knew how to contact that doctor. Maybe he could tell you—"

"What? About this?" Jason interrupted. "Look at me. Do you honestly believe he could've known about this?"

"Who knows, Chris? After tonight, I'll believe anything."

The Doctor arrived for his appointment with Dr. Albert to find the Freeland Center in chaos. There was a mob of reporters accosting the Center's Assistant Director and several police officers trying to maintain some kind of order. They were failing miserably. In fact, they were so busy trying to keep the media at bay that they failed to notice the Doctor, who gave the gathering a wide berth and entered the building unchallenged.

The Time Lord assumed the bedlam that was slowly becoming a press conference had been brought on by a demonstration of the lunatic fringe Dr. Albert had mentioned the night before. He suspected it to be something more serious when he was ushered into the office of the Chief of Security.

"I'm afraid I'm a little in the dark, Mr. Grove," the Time Lord was saying. "Dr. Albert was to've informed you I was expected."

It had been a very long and trying night, every hour having etched itself on Alex's usually bright and cheerful face. He had managed to catch a few hours sleep on the couch in his office, but was still very torn up inside and found it difficult to stay in control of his emotions at times. Drawing a deep breath, he said in a strained voice, "The Center was broken into last night, Doctor. Two men were murdered, and Dr. Albert is missing…and presumed dead."