Author: Milady Dragon
Disclaimer: This isn't mine, no matter how many stars I wish on…
Rating: PG-13
Author's notes: Thanks again to my reviewers! I appreciate hearing what you have to say!
Chapter Twelve
Morgan had a headache.
Normally, he'd just go to Julia and ask for an anti-inflammatory, but for some reason he was feeling disinclined to involve the doctor in his personal business this morning.
So he and Bess packed up. He'd done it so many times now that he didn't even have to think about it any longer. It felt like doing the same steps, to the same dance.
It was exceedingly boring, and he was tired of it.
Not for the first time since crashing on this planet, Morgan was seriously missing his old life on the Stations. Yes, he might have been a low-level bureaucrat but he and his wife had had their own space, a pretty good life…and he'd had at least a modicum of power.
All that had changed with the discovery of the plot against the Eden Project, by the very people he'd worked with and trusted.
Life could really suck.
He sighed.
"Are you okay, Morgan?" Bess asked.
"Sure," he answered absently, "why wouldn't I be?"
"You had a pretty restless night last night."
"Did I?" He couldn't remember whether he'd dreamed or not.
She smiled. "Let's just say I'd be surprised if I didn't have a nice set of bruises this morning."
"I…I'm sorry, Bess."
"It's okay." She touched him on the arm. "No real harm done."
They finished packing in silence, which was good because Morgan's head was really starting to pound. It felt like his heart had taken up residence in his frontal lobe. He wondered what was causing it, and while it seemed to get worse he was still reticent to get something for the pain.
He'd just wait it out.
The entire camp was almost torn down. Morgan sighed again. This was getting so old!
Traveling from one campsite to another – except for having been stranded during the winter – not setting down any roots…he just wasn't cut out for the vagabond life! It was so below him…
He and Bess carried the last of their things to the Trans Rover, where it was stowed in the same place it went every morning. Morgan made way once they were done tying down, watching the rest of the group as they finished their own preparations.
Devon, Julia, and Solace were actually having to help Danziger up into the cab of the Trans Rover this morning. Morgan had to admit, the man looked really bad. He was wrapped in a couple of blankets, despite the warmness of the wind that whistled through the tall grass. His skin was paler than Morgan could ever remember seeing.
He is weak, came the unbidden thought.
Morgan shook his head to clear it, instantly regretting it as the pain thumped through his temples. He fumbled within a pocket for his sunglasses, slipping them on with a sigh of relief. It did help a little.
We cannot tolerate the weak to steal our strength, whispered a small voice from deep within his mind. They have no place in our world.
He should have been disturbed by this. Even Morgan had to admit to himself that he was a fairly excitable person. Hearing voices should have sent him running to Julia, demanding her professional attention.
Yet, it didn't.
In fact, the voice was making a strange sort of sense.
Of course it makes sense. You know it to be true. Only the strong, those who accept what will happen, will have a place in our glorious destiny.
Our destiny. Yes, that sounded ideal. Morgan stood aside, observing those around them as they found their places in their caravan.
Devon Adair's entourage.
That was exactly what they were: Devon Adair's personal entourage. She was the reason they were stranded here. This was her fault that they were cut off from their home, the world they'd known. Everyone knew it, yet they still followed her like lapdogs.
They are all weak.
Yes, it was true. They followed Adair simply because they didn't know better, didn't know what it was like to follow – and be inspired by – a real leader.
Someone strong. Someone not afraid to accept that things needed to change. Will you accept the change?
Change was sounding very good to Morgan right now.
No. Not now. The time is coming. You must be patient.
Patient. Yes, Morgan could be very patient.
Very good. I have chosen wisely. You will do wonderfully well in the new order.
It was amazing what a really good headache could do to clear the mind, Morgan thought as he joined Bess to walk beside the Trans Rover
