Chapter Forty-Six

Special Request

Several hours after the prince's traumatic upheaval, Starbridge had more or less returned to normal. Jason, however, had not, nor was he sure he ever would again. Once he felt up to seeing visitors, he asked to see the Lord Emperor.

"Are you feeling any better?" the monarch asked concernedly as he entered.

"Yeah, I guess," came the terse reply. Suddenly realizing what he had just said, and to whom, Jason said quickly, "I'm sorry, my Lord. That came out wrong. Please forgive me. I'm still not myself. I probably won't be for quite a while."

"Perhaps I can fix that."

The prince felt his body starting to tingle and immediately threw up his hands. "No! Please, don't!"

"Jason, it's alright—"

"No, it's not," Jason replied, his voice already noticeably stronger from the sudden infusion of energy. "Please, I implore you. Don't do this."

"My dear Nephew, I'm only trying to—"

"I know," the prince cut in sharply. "I understand, really, I do. It's just…I need time, please. If you heal me now, they'll want me to return to my duties. And I can't." Running his fingers through his hair, he shook his head, his voice rising in pitch as he cried, "I just can't! My head is too messed up!"

The Emperor gave an understanding smile, but was prevented from replying by Commander Tolan, who burst into the room, weapon in hand. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his Imperial sovereign in the room, a bewildered look coming to his face. "Is everything alright, Majesty?" he asked concernedly.

"Yes, Commander," the Emperor assured, "everything is fine now. If you haven't already, please stand down from Alert."

The officer nodded, throwing a quick glance in the recovering prince's direction before holstering his weapon. "Majesty. Highness," he said, bowing slightly and then leaving.

"My Lord, but he's good," Jason remarked admiringly.

"The best," the Emperor agreed.

"It's funny his coming in like that. He's the reason I wanted to see you."

The monarch was justifiably puzzled. "Commander Tolan?"

"Yes. I wish to beg a favor."

"For Tolan?"

"He doesn't know I'm doing this, if that's what you're thinking," Jason said quickly. "I knew you'd want to heal me—"

"You did, did you?"

"—and I wanted to ask if you'd heal Lieutenant Fane in my place."

The Emperor gave him a puzzled look. "As a favor to Tolan?"

Jason nodded slowly, leaning back in bed and scrutinizing the Emperor carefully. Surely he knew the truth about Fane's lineage. He knew everything that went on within his Palace walls—eventually. "Uncle, I owe Tolan my life several times over," he said at last. "He'll say he was only doing his job, but I think taking an indefinite leave of absence and founding the Argonauts goes way beyond duty."

"Perhaps it was his way of repaying a debt he feels he owes you," the monarch observed astutely. Seeing the searching look upon his nephew's face, he informed, "Yes, I know Fane is Tolan's son. I also know of your professional involvement in his coming into the world."

Jason gave a self-conscious half-smile and lowered his eyes, saying nothing.

"All this is irrelevant," the monarch said with a wave of his hand. "I granted Commander Tolan an Imperial favor no more than a week ago. To grant another in so short a time—"

"Grant it to Fane, then, I don't care whose name goes on it. He's dying!" Jason said sharply, some of his old fire returning to his voice. "So many people have died because of this. Because of me. Please don't tell me you're saying no just because of a technicality in Imperial court protocol."

Emperor Quinton stiffened visibly. He was unaccustomed to being rebuked by anyone, but to have it come from Prince Jason, a decidedly unexpected source, was disquieting indeed. "And you said your head was too messed up," he said aridly. "It would appear, unlike your body, your reason is remarkably unimpaired."

The prince gave a weak smile. "I apologize for my tone—"

"Don't apologize for anything. You're absolutely right. And I intend to grant this favor. But in your name—and on one condition."

"What's that?"

"That you consider it a part of your own healing process."

For the first time in days, Jason broke into a broad smile. "Deal."

Commander Tolan and Constance expected the worst when Roxell summoned them to the Critical Care Unit. They arrived to find, not the Healer, but the Emperor waiting for them just inside the door. The cover to the energy bed had been raised and they were stunned to see Fane dressed in a hospital gown and partially covered with a sheet. All the life support equipment had been removed, as had his bandages and casts. This caused Constance to catch her breath, believing it meant the young man had died. It was only when she turned to the monitors and saw their miraculous readings that a glimmer of the truth came to her. "He's…he's…"

"Healed is the word you're searching for, I believe," the Emperor said mildly. He then told the astonished pair of Jason's intercession on the Commander's behalf. "I know you feel you owe him a great debt, Commander," the monarch said slowly, "but it's his wish that you consider it paid in full. He can do nothing greater than restore your son to you."

Tolan caught his breath and looked up sharply, turning to the equally aghast Constance.

"No, he didn't tell me," the Emperor informed. "I've known for quite some time."

The Commander closed his eyes, expecting the worst. He had been living a lie for so many years he found himself strangely relieved now the truth was out. Or at least it would be soon.

"My dear Commander Tolan, when will you learn you can hide nothing from me?" the monarch asked in mild reproof. "Your guilt gave you away nearly thirty years ago."

"What!" Constance gasped. "You've known all this time? Why—?"

The Emperor held up a hand, explaining that he had said nothing because he knew the truth would do nothing other than damage the carrier of the best officer in the Imperial Guard. And with Jason so willing to take the glare of public scrutiny, who was he to interfere? Admittedly, he was concerned when Fane was accepted into the Imperial academy, going on to be relieved when he chose to train as a medic. It was only when Fane was called in to assist with the Argonauts as Tolan's Lieutenant that the Emperor actually thought to intercede. "I wasn't sure you'd allow him to do his job if things got dangerous," he admitted guiltily.

Looking at the unconscious Fane, Tolan said quietly, "I wish I hadn't." Sighing heavily, he said, "I wish I hadn't done a lot of things. Thank-you, Majesty, for giving him the chance to—"

"Commander, the favor is for you, not Fane," the Emperor said firmly. "Although I would have granted it to him had Jason asked me to. He's an exceptional individual, regardless of who claims paternity."

Tolan turned to the Emperor, a searching look on his face.

"Before you ask," Quinton said quickly, "your original favor still stands. This one was granted in the name of Prince Jason." With a knowing smile, he added, "Perhaps in time, we can connect the two."

Before the overwhelmed Tolan could think of anything to say, Fane stirred and moaned faintly. After a minute, he stirred again, finally opening his eyes. He looked around fuzzily and then frowned, uncertain as to where he was or how he had gotten there. Focusing on the person sitting beside him, he stared in amazement. Surely it wasn't…

"Commander…?" he said softly, a hand going to his head. "How did you…? I just talked to you." Now totally confused, Fane looked around and tried to sit up, only to fall back, finally registering the fact that he was in an energy bed. He noticed Constance standing just behind the Commander, tears rolling down her face. Now he knew something was seriously wrong. "What happened?" he asked at last.

"It's a long story," Tolan said gently.

"Is Uncle Jay alright?" Fane then asked, receiving a nod in reply. "Amanda?"

"They're both fine," Tolan replied.

The Lieutenant covered his face with his hands and tried desperately to remember what could have happened to him. But his mind was blank. The last thing he remembered was calling his men together to begin securing the house.

The Emperor had made a point of staying out of Fane's line of vision and took advantage of this brief instant to move to Tolan's side. "Normally he would need time to get his bearings after the conversion," he observed, "but it seems you're more in need of that than he is, Commander."

Tolan nodded, but was unable to respond, being too busy trying to fight back tears. The Emperor was quite right. He felt as if he were the one recovering from the conversion, considering the heightened emotions he was feeling. He drew a deep breath, and in as firm a voice as he could manage, he said, "Fane, there's something I—we—need to tell you."

The Lieutenant lowered his hands, looking from the uncharacteristically emotional Tolan to Constance and back. "Is it about what happened to me?"

"No. It's…something we should've told you a long time ago. About who you are," Tolan paused, struggling to come up with the right words. To his astonishment, it was Fane who found them. "I already know who I am," he said calmly. "I'm your son."

"How...? When...?" Tolan gasped once he had found his voice.

Fane gave a small smile. "I was on Uncle Jay's disk, too."