Summary --John tries to relax just as the first of a new wave of "different" Tp begin to break out. Mike's son becomes friends with a break out named Rollin, who breaks out more than once. Kulthan and a Klepton appear and kidnap someone to a war torn planet. Once, back on Earth, the surviving Tp encounter trouble with a phony church trying to baptize a new breakout. A superhero turns up to help in a crossover.

Notes: This story brings the TP of the 1970s into the 1990s. There was a history in the 1980s. John is married and has his own children. There are more TP who broke out in the 1980s but the 1990s have the "different" TP break out. For want of a better name I would call this universe 1-A.

The Tomorrow People were created by Roger Price and are the property of Thames TV and Pearson TV (original series and/or) Thames/Tetra and Nickelodeon (new series).

(This story takes place after THE TOMORROW PEOPLE MEET ROXY AND MARETTE and before SHORT BOXERS. Consult the list at the beginning of the zine for more info.)


CHAPTER ONE----ANOTHER FORM OF LIFE

"Life is visually too hideous for one to make the attempt to preserve it. Let it go. Perhaps some day another form of life will come along. I am still a part of life and I am bound by this to protect myself to whatever extent I can."

Paul Bowles--from short story "Pages from Cold Point"

A huge glass window gave a view of a mountainous hilly drop down. Across from it spread more huge vistas of ruddy-colored stone against a blue sky. Beneath such an eye-talking sight spread John Fairchild, yawning. John lay on a couch in Aerie, under the observation window. John had never been particularly motivated when it came to the real normal world. And these days, he realized as he flung down a Norm newspaper, he grew tired of even Tomorrow People "norms."An opposition of words. For John, break-outs, stun-guns, special powers, different additions to the growing ranks of Tomorrow People, and alas, saving the world, were all common-place everyday norms now. He seemed to know it all--all about the next step of human evolution--even that in the future they would win out and become a majority over the Earth. Whatever problems the Earth -- and his Tomorrow People were having--they would survive. Still he should shake himself to help in the search for the missing Jake and Josh Patterson, who both are lost somewhere in Russia. He wanted to sleep--more from boredom than tiredness.

John was tired. He had filled his days now with helping Heather,his wife, with their twin sons --- Alvin and James. He had helped in ways that he never thought possible. Dirty diapers, spitting and burping. John wondered how he would manage the boys when they grew. He thought he had had more than enough practice : Stephen, Kenny, Tyso, Andrew, Toby, etc., etc., and of course Mike. John shuddered---"I hope they're not as difficult as Mike. Please no." John knew it wouldn't be long in finding out---the twins would soon be boys--then teens. Amanda, their daughter, grew rapidly and would soon be nine years old. John mused--Amanda--he had helped more these days by taking care of her and her needs. But Amanda was an easy child. John, unlike most men, preferred daughters--they seemed more eager to comply. Still he had melted over Alvin and James. John was just about asleep.

He had his family to occupy his time now. His other family--the Tomorrow People --were doing all right. Not that he would completely abandon them--just forget about them once in awhile. Fatherhood was so much more interesting. He was inexperienced in it really, while feeling very experienced in all aspects of Tomorrow People culture and what could happen to them. Which proves even the very first Tomorrow Person (on Earth) who broke out in early 1970, could be dead wrong and caught off guard.

More will break out and others will handle them. In turn those break outs will help future break outs. John dozed, fit in his role as laid back advisor, leaving it all to fresh new ones. Sure.

Xion Xyang and Kim Ngyuen stood atop the Great Wall of China as the sun shone down. It was nearing one o'clock PM here. Tall and lanky, the bigger Xion darted his eyes about. They were the only part of his body which could give away how nervous he was. "We should not be here."

Kim, much smaller, wasn't as nervous, but kept sending out telepathic signals. She turned to Xion, "We can go. I don't think its here."

"Someone may recognize me. And you know this country not too friendly to your people. We go."

"All right, all right," she annoyingly agreed, "Maybe the others have had better luck." Kim did not want to pursue the issue. Xion had survived the Teaniemin Square massacre.

They watched as civilians hustled by, mixed with tourists. Actually no one seemed to notice them at all -- there was too much grandeur up on the wall and the sights from it were amazing. The pair of Oriental Tomorrow People moved toward a huge trellice which would provide cover for them to jaunt. Curious, a boy, Oriental also, watched the two move to the trellice, where no one would go---he feared they may fall off. Then he smiled, it would be fun to see the two crazies fall. If they were stupid enough to go out on the trellice that far...he couldn't feel guilty about wanting to see them fall. Kim, a Vietnamese with long silky hair, knew perfect English, Xion did not. In fact he had not been a Tomorrow Person long enough to learn to decode the languages with his mind. Therefore he spoke broken English, not unlike the fictional Tarzan and the factual Hsue-Tai, the first Oriental Tomorrow Person. "Links have shown us receptive what look like--ahh--abode..."

"Home."

"Home of Oriental design...vague...perhaps Japan. We jaunt to there ?"

"All right. I know you're eager to make amends for all the strife between your people and the Japanese. But really the Japanese military were rather--unkind--to the Chinese for centuries."

"Still I desire to bridge a peace."

"You never know -- Japan may need you some day."

"Maybe Japan Tomorrow Person." The two reached a spot and edged their way out on a ridge. They jaunted and the small Chinese boy peering around the trellice to see them fall off, was disappointed.

The dark boy edged himself into crack which two buildings allowed between them. Fully grown adults couldn't fit and he had had enough of them for the night. The time was nearing eleven o'clock PM and the boy felt worn and used--like some old shoe. The busy bustle of the main street made him gag -- a reaction he had when he was much younger. He inched to an alley square which was between two main streets. Here, people parked their cars and vacated to the streets beyond. One car was up on blocks and stripped of its tires and doors. The boy chuckled to himself. It never takes them long. He leaned against a brick wall. No people --that was good. From one of the many zippers on his oversized black leather jacket, he took out a box of Marlboro cigarettes, priding himself on these being the worst for your health. He lit one and stopped it short of his mouth. Disgusting habit--still he had beaten other habits with a little "persuasion" from his boss Cooley. Merchandise had to be healthy and look good. He spied an empty, discarded syringe on the ground near a tipped over trash can. Probrably belonged to the car thieves, he laughed. He took a puff on his cigarette. Eleven---fifteen and this cigarette sucked. No -- he sucked it. He gagged and tossed it away. He didn't know why but now he hated it. About to step on it to cancel its life--he respected fire---he felt a pain in his stomach. Was the past catching up to him ? Needles were there once. NO, it was his head. He grabbed his head, knees knocking uncharacteristically. His eyes -- wholly black pupils which scare almost everyone--rolled up to reveal white. The tanned face went pale, the already sunken eyes seemed to darken as if he were punched. His tongue popped out, dripping wetness. The boy buckled back into a fire escape ladder. It fell and hit his back. The dark one fell, twisting, spasming as if in a seizure. Sparks alighted his head, his arms, hands, beneath his black short cut tee-shirt, and along his belt.

Xion and Kim were in hyper-space but for a moment. As they darted through it, a loud call came, "Halp ! Haaaaallllllpppp mmmeeeee! Ohhh G-god, nnnoooo!"

Xion spiraled, off kilter, into Kim, both already too long in hyper space which all Tomorrow People pass through when teleporting (jaunting). Kim yelled, "Xion--to that voice! Hurry!"

They both knew it must have been the break out. Xion appeared first and looked, wide eyed at pure terror! He moved forward to help the boy. The boy groped at his own belt and opened it. His hands flew back, clawing and waving! Xion stopped himself from going to the glowing body. He saw veins and arteries on the hands. He saw blood surge through those inner--now--outer vessels. He saw a windpipe on the throat.

"Help! Help! Help!" Xion grabbed his own head, unable to respond to the boy's plea. He heard a cry and saw Kim behind him, hugging a brick wall. She couldn't look at the boy and was in hysterics.

John, on the couch, dozed longer. "No boys to bother me--yet."

A resurging echo from the young boy voice, "Helllllll! Hell! Hell! Help! Help me sooommmebody! I'm coming apart! oowww!" John fell off the couch hit by a ton of telekinetic, telepathic bricks. He could almost feel and see the red stones of thought.

John stood up quickly as he felt the old danger tingle from days gone by. Complacent fool, he chided himself. He called out, "Eric, Max, Damien, anyone, hear that ?"

Damien called back, "John, we do. We were tracking what we thought was a Japanese..."

"No time to talk," John started, "We must pinpoint..."

Xion's voice broke in, "John! Fourty second Street, New York City. Kim and I here. We do not know what to do to help! Get here!"

John telepathed, "Got you."

Heather, John's blonde wife came in, "Oh, John, my head."

John gave her a quick kiss, "Stay with the children. This is bad, real bad." He jaunted. When John appeared, he saw Xion in one postion over a writhing, pain wracked boy, about 5'3, thirteen years of age. He also saw Eric, the brown haired grandson of the President of the United States, helping Kim away from a wall. Damien came from behind, a quiet 17 year old. Sparks played along the boy on the ground, undulating the small body.

Damien moved to John for comfort, "What's happening to him?"

"Break out," John was shocked at this.

Other Tomorrow People jaunted in --pretty, slim, brown haired Trish Warner; black, strong bodied Amy Turner; brown haired intelligent Max Manchester; and the son of Mike Bell--Quince Wrenwood. No one moved. Trish yelled, "John! What do we do?"

"I don't know!" John yelled.

"Look!" Damien pointed to the dark boy's chest. In his fury, the dark boy ripped a huge hole in his tee-shirt under the open jacket. John stared, horribly, at the chest---a bright, pumping heart stared back! Trish and Amy screamed, neither given to such a thing. Lenses and retinas turned back and forth at them. Then they saw black eyes--not normal--but it was clear that these were his regular eyes. "John, he's returning to norm..." In a flash, the boy became inside-out again. Veins, bones, ligaments, and inner muscles. Kim, terrified in Eric's grasp, saw a kidney and spleen in a twist of the hip upward. She screamed. Then he was the dark kid again -- normal skin --but still jerking and sparking tiny electric shocks. "Going back and forth," Damien watched.

As Damien, Xion, and Max moved at the boy, John waved them off, "No, don't touch him. Yet." John felt glee--not from the circumstance--no one could look upon such a thing as a fellow human suffered and feel joy--but John's glee was from the tingle of not knowing exactly what to do. It reminded him of days gone by--when winging it and trying the best you could do would get you past the unknown. As in the past, someone could die from their...no. not their...HIS ignorance. Yet in the heat of the moment John saw intuitively what to do.

Amy yelled, "I can't just stand here to watch this! We've got to do something!"

John called to them all, "Form a circle around him. Everyone, but be careful not to touch him. He'll die if you do and you may too. Uh," John turned to the young thirteen year old Quince, "you--Quincy, what're you doing here, son?"

"I...I wanna pitch my all in and all. I mean... I want to help," Quince, a brown haired English cockney said sheepishly from between Damien and Max.

"Well...," John hesitated but other Tomorrow People such as Stephen Jamieson had been this age and helped tremendously. .."Okay." The Tomorrow People circled the suffering boy, "Come on everyone."

Damien called,"Eric, hurry!"

Kim nodded to Eric, who had blue eyes set in his somewhat Oriental yet Anglo face. Eric let her go, "I have to help."

Kim nodded, "Go. I...I can't."

Eric left her and joined the rapidly forming circle. Kim hesitated but also joined, standing near Xion and Eric. John said, "Damn! There's no pattern. No set time between changes."

Trish was calmer now, "He'll be dead if this keeps up."

"Listen carefully all of you. As soon as you see the boy--the normal boy--you touch him. Not before. We go together--but be sure to touch him only when you see normal skin. And avoid those sparks -- I don't know if they'll harm us so avoid them if you can." John instructed. The head of hair on the thrashing boy became a huge blobby brain! The brain sparked also and throbbed in and out. It had the most electrical activity. Synapsis shot eletric all over the brain and spread to the rest of the body.

Everyone fought back nausea. Eric forced out half a question, "Those sparks...?"

John quickly guessed, "They could be pent up energy. Perhaps he was really suppose to break out years and years ago and the energy's been building up all this time. Damn, its too fast now. On my word we touch. Next time. Wait." A shoe popped off and shot past Davy, a younger Tomorrow Person who had joined the group late. He saw tendons on the ankle. Then they all heard John shout, "NOW !"

Quince did not know why but he knelt quickly, sliding his hands, bravely, straight to the dark teen's chest. Everyone touched at the same time. Sparks passed by them but seemed to disapate and leave as they touched. The boy buckled but their hands rode him. The spasms slowed.

John teled to all, "Stay with him. Don't let go. Its his life and maybe all of ours. Whatever you do keep contact. His mind AND his body are evolving--opening up to us. Focus on my message--all of you. Listen son--if you can hear me--listen. Think of a brick wall slowly being demolished by a ball on a huge wrecking tractor."

A shakey voice,"I've seen buildings knocked down."

The Tomorrow People, sweating, were finally relaxed on the boy as they realized he wouldn't turn inside out under their very hands. John cautioned, "Not a whole building--not all at once. Think of it coming down brick by brick- slowly--piece by piece. Think of a man stuck behind a brick wall who--in his darkness has just found a hammer and chisel and is hammering his way out of the darkness. He is knocking each brick out--brick by brick. Slowly the light fades in then more and more, his eyes adjust to the light because it edges its way in slow...slow...open your mind, your body, not too fast." John held the boy's head, bending with the others.

Trish looked at the bare hand she held. The sleeve which went up to the boy's elbow. revealed a forearm--of scars, needle scars. She focused on John. He was doing a great job. She didn't think he could. John, to her, had always seemed rather--well, wimpy. Her idea of the First Tomorrow Person would be someone more imposing physically. John could be imposing verbally and mentally but...Trish told herself to focus on the boy and his break out.

Eric happened to smell smoke and without letting go of this terrified, shocked boy, he turned his body slightly. He saw a burning cigarette and looked about the alley for the first time. Such a life here in some grimey city was totally out of his experience. He had it easy--certainly easier than this boy. Eric focused on keeping his hands on the hip.

Touching the boy's neck, Damien too, noticed how different the dark one was from himself. He saw a small silver skull of metal dangling on a chain--attached to an ear ring in the boy's left lobe. He also saw the black leather pants, boots, and the open black leather jacket. Damien looked across the puffed cheeks of the kid to the other ear which bore no ear ring but it was pierced. Interesting he thought--without condemnation. Subtle, Damien was not naive and knew what that could mean--two ear rings...focus Damien thought.

"Open it slowly," John eased into the boy's mind, "Brick by brick."

The wall was coming down, brick by brick. Behind it shone intense light--yellow, red, orange. Amy smiled as she saw what it was. A bright intense sun just forming in outer space. A spiraling cloud of interstellar gas collided with dust. Gamma ray photons emit from its center, turning on the star. The interior generates nuclear explosions to support the star which also gains from the growing weight of its outer layers.

Planets began to form. The gray planet flopped out of the mass. It eventually cooled and became blue.

A red planet--stark with boulders and craters and dunes.

A liquid metal inside a huge magnetic field of intense hydrogen gas forming a huge world surrounded by many moons. Moons spurting volcanic explosions high into the air. So high they reach their atoms into the planet Jupiter.

Space snowballs and ice chips cascade out at the TOmorrow People's inner field of mind-view. Out and back again, these form together, circling Saturn at 45,000 miles per hour. Rings come into play, rings which reflect rays of the sun.

Everyone sweated, not from the awesome projections of this youngster's break out but from the one in particular. 480 degrees Celsius, more like 900 degrees Fahrenheit, blistered up from a planet's huge rocky craters. Sulphur-colored mist melting satillites. 100 mile an hour winds swirling sulfuric acid gas in the air. It all vanishes as Venus becomes dense.

Two planets light up in the dark plain of space. They switch places beyond the sun's heat. Icy as several moons. Cold, hard beaten.

John caught some of the speeded up action of space\time and saw Uranus merge. A churning spitting, vomitting spiral became the Milky Way.

An observatory on Mars Hill in Flagstaff, Arizona pointed up--up and up at Pluto, Uranus, Neptune, Titan, Io... This confused John the most--why suddenly sis he see and recognize Flagstaff?

More intestellar images. Rainbow like Ring Nebulas in Lyra where a central star had shed its outer atmosphere producing a multi colored shell of expanding gas. An exploding globular cluster of stars amassing space from the galatic core--shards of twinkling light shooting at their very faces. Quietness. Drifting in space--slowly.

John called in a low tele-tranmit, "Can you hear me?"

"Inside. What am I now?"

"One of us--a new species we'd like to believe. Like ESP and mind reading. You're special with special, new talents. We're.."

"Tomorrow People?"

"Yes," John said, trying to not come off too surprized, "You read my mind."

"Tired. So tired." The boy's eyes closed, his body collapsed downward from the Tomorrow People's tense grip.

"TIM?" John called for a matter transporter band.

As it appeared, Kim asked, "Will he live?"

John snapped the band around the boy's right wrist, "Yes, he's broken out already. Its safe for him to sleep. Let's take him to Aerie--I can monitor him there."

Damien asks, "Wouldn't the satillite be better?'

"I don't want to risk that until he's awake," John said, "And more aware of us and what he is."

The group vanishes with the boy. After they depart, another boy, taller, leaner, and lighter in skin tone came into the alley. He wore a brown suede vest with a short-cut white tee-shirt without sleeves under it. He also wore gray sweats--which ended above his knees. He brushed back his short, gangly brown hair and turned his non-descript, open face all around the area. He had money in his hand, "Where are you? Don't you want it?" Shrugging, the boy left.

At Aerie, hours later, John unhooked a monitor from the boy, "He'll be okay." He told a worried group consisting of his blonde daughter Amanda, Heather, Quince, and Damien. The others had gone, convinced of the boy's safety and John's care. "Not quite a conventional break out but he's recovered nicely. You two can go."

Quince looked at Amanda, relishing the thought that he had helped out when she did not--Quince had been very jealous of her since she grew up knowing his father--Michael Bell-- and he, illegimate, had not. He had some pure motives though. He stepped forward to the bedside of the boy. Quince looked at the boy, then at John, "Mr. Fairchild..I..."

"Please, John."

"Uhh..yeah..well..I'd like to stay if what's okay wid you.."

Before John could respond, Heather smiled, "Yes, we have plenty of rooms. Amanda, you go ready one for this new boy and I'll fix one for Quince."

Quince asked, "Are you sure its all right?"

"Yes," John put a hand on Quince's shoulder, "I'll need help explaining everything to him. And watching him. You call your dad about it though."

"I'm off," Damien yawned, "Holler if you need more help." He jaunted.

Heather telepathed, "All ready, John. The rooms are next to each other just above our rooms."

John shrugged and matter transferred the sleeping new boy to the room. Later when he woke up in the middle of the night he was wide eyed with confusion. John awoke, atuned to the boy's frequency and mental condition. He kissed Heather and jaunted to the foot of the kid's bed. The boy jumped back into the bed. "My name is John...you are at my home in Arizona. We brought you here after last night. You became one of us --one of the TOmorrow People. You're all right now. Can you tell me your name?" The boy just stared. Deep, dark eyes. His face seemed full of color now but somehow used. Shock maybe. "We are the next step of evolution -- a kind of super race if you'd like -- you have new abilities and powers which we'll train and develop. Is there anyone I can contact that will miss you?" The boy sat up. staring. Now he moved his body back down into the bed and plopped his head to the pillow. John forced a smile, "Sleep some more. It'll take some time to get used to this. Don't think about it too much. See you in the morning." John decided to walk out the door rather than jaunt. The boy blinked his eyes and kept his head buried in the soft pillow. He wanted to stay in bed forever--it was so safe and warm.

The next morning, Heather brought in a breakfast for the boy, "Good morning. Did you sleep well? Its one o'clock. Do you usually sleep late?" As she talked, she put the tray she had, down, over his lap. He sat up with his back to the bedboard. "So you are..." The dark kid grabbed bread off the tray and began to wolf it down..."Hungry, aren't you?" Heather put butter on the toast and poured milk into the cereal. The boy, never taking his distrustful eyes off Heather, ate continously. As he did, Heather tried to get information by talking non-stop. She did not get one word from him. When he finished she took the tray and watched the boy ease his body out of the bed. He still wore all his clothes from the night before except for the dark shoes. Heather stood off the bed, "You can join us outback if you'd like." Stares. Heather smiled at him, "There is a TV behind those two doors if you want to watch anything." Easily, she left. The boy buried his face in his hands.

On a closed-in veranda behind the house --actually a built in part of Aerie, Quince was eating lunch with Amanda and John, enjoying the sun from outside as it shone in but glad that the room was air conditioned. Heather returned, "I didn't have any luck either. He didn't seem to have eaten last night though." She pointed to the tray she left on a small table, "Amanda, would you..?"

"Sure, mommy," Amanda laughed and took the tray away.

Heather looked at Quince, who finished his tea and sandwich, "She's quite taken with you, young man."

"What, me?" He nearly spilled his tea, "I didn't notice...sides--she's too bloomin' young."

John was thinking about the boy, drinking his tea, "Just a school girl crush. Quince, you try."

"Try what?"

"To talk to him."

Quince gulped, "Well I.."

"You came to help, didn't you? And I sense you feel you may do some good for him."

"Well, yeah but I wouldn't want to mess up, you see." He shrugged and stood up, "I'll try but I don't think we should squeeze him too much." He took his dish and cup.

Heather stood up, "Quince, leave it, I'll get it."

Quince said, "Thank you." He went into the house and up the white steps to the top hallway. He stopped at movement in the hall. The boy was there, feeling large pictures on the wall. He seemed to like the colors. He turned, saw Quince, and continued to examine the golden frames of the lovely pictures --some acquired from other planets. His eyes and hands went to a small flower vase on a stand against the far end of the hall. He had moved to it and picked it up. Quince slowly, subtlely, followed. The boy noted how the vase suddenly had flowers in it. The multi colored flowers, previously invisible now appeared. Accidentally, the boy dropped the flowers and the vase, it broke into twenty pieces. The boy stepped back and then looked worriedly at Quince. He raised a finger to his mouth, "Shhh."

Quince went to touch the boy's arm, "Don't worry." The boy squirmed, avoiding Quince's touch. "Don't worry," he repeated. He stared a the odd black pupils, "Watch." He gathered the pieces of the vase and used Kinetic energy by rubbing his fingers. The vase glued itself together in Quince's hand. He smiled and looked up from his squat position to the wide-eyed boy. Quince stood up and the vase--off the ground again emitted the multi-colored flowers. The boy jumped back. "No, its not something to be afraid of. These flowers react to changes--movements--wind--they can camouflage themselves until movements upset their composition. Watch."Quince set them back on the stand and the flowers slowly vanished from sight. "See. I'm Quince," he put his right hand out, "Quince Wrenwood." The boy looked at it. Quince took the boy's downed right hand with his left and put it into his own right hand to shake. Then he let it go. The boy looked at his own hand. "See you around," Quince turned and walked toward the stairs to descend.

With Quince's back to him, the boy talked after him, "Rollin." (Pronounced Roll--as in a bread roll with butter, --in). Quince stopped but did not turn around, listening. "I ran away from my mother when I was eight. I don't remember her last name."

Quince felt a throb of pain, emotionally. "I was--shall we say--illegitimate like. You know what that means?"

"You're a bastard."

"Uh--yeah," Quince turned around now, "My real father only recently came into my life."

"Don't know mine."

Quince felt that this was all the boy would reveal for now. "Would you like to see the hanger area. A glider or two, planes, helicopters..."

Rollin shrugged, eyes ashamed, "I guess."

"COme on, matey, I think its this way," Quince lead the way to a larger hall and through a huge open room.

In the hanger, Rollin tried not to show his amazement at the variety of vehicles. He looked into the large, modern secondary glider's transparent dome to the cockpit just under it. "Compass, altimeter, spoiler, oxygen mask."

Quince laughed, "How'd you know that n' all ?"

"My boss had a huge library he let me use. I read a lot."

"Who was that?"

Rollin ignored the question and kept his gaze on the cockpit. Quince remained undaunted --he's overstepped his grounds and knew it. "Sleek. Is this man--John--your father?"

Quince began long explanations about the TOmorrow People, reiterating some of what John told the boy already, but adding on info about Michael Bell.

Rollin took it all in, "Its all hard to believe, you know."

Quince smiled, jaunted, and came out of hyper space behind Rollin, tapping on the shoulder. "I know."

Rollin whirled, defensively, his elbow ready to strike Quince. He held it back. Quince shied back, "I'm sorry. It was a damned, stupid move on my part. I know you didn't mean it."

Rollin stiffened, "If I had connected you probrably wouldn't feel that way. I am sorry too--its reflex--you know working on the streets."

Quince nodded, "I understand."

Rollin smiled, "No, you don't. But you will."

"I like the ear ring, its smashing."

"English? Are you?"

"Yes, can't you tell from me accent," Quince smiled and feigned a Southern accent, "Like wow you all."

Rollin smirked alittle, "Are you--gay?"

"What?"

"Gay, you know --an English fag, a..a "

"I get it. No, why?"

"I met a lot of them in New York City. I was beginnning to think they all were."

Quince laughed, "You'd better not let my father hear you say that although he could use a shaking up."

"Oh?"

"He used to be prejudice against them."

"Oh, I see. Can I see the rest of the house?"

"Yeah, come on."Quince lead the way out. Rollin kept eyeing the glider, unknown to Quince.