Finding the Way


Part 18: Conference


There was a sharp knock on the door. Carol Dallon's voice. "Victoria! Breakfast is ready!"

Vicky and Amy jolted awake, stared into each other's eyes. Amy saw memory returning, could almost hear the click as Vicky lined up her recollections.

She smiled, lazily.

"Be right down, Mom!" she called, then kissed Amy slowly, deliciously. Amy returned the kiss, enjoying every second of it.

Rolling out of bed, Vicky tugged off the clothes she'd slept in. Although she and Amy had gotten hot and heavy the previous night, they were still both wearing what they'd gone on the date in. Over her underwear, she put her bathrobe, then tossed Amy her spare robe; while Vicky was taller, they wore much the same sizes of clothes.

Which was fortunate, as Mark Dallon saw Amy emerge from Vicky's room.

"Amy girl?" he said curiously. "Why were you in there?"

Amy was stuck for an answer – should have thought of something ahead of time, she berated herself – but Vicky spoke up. "Ames had a nightmare. Asked if she could sleep in my bed." She shrugged. "What could I do?"

Mark frowned. "The nightmares coming back, Amy girl?" They had been a not uncommon occurrence in her earlier years with the Dallons. Amy had slept in Vicky's bed then, too.

She shook her head, managing to look sheepish. "No," she said. "I think this was a once-off."

He nodded. "Good." A smile for Vicky. "Thanks for taking care of your sister."

Vicky grinned. "It was my pleasure, Dad. I love her too much to let her have nightmares all on her own."

For a frozen moment, Amy thought Vicky might have overstepped the mark, been just a bit too clever with her little play on words, but Mark nodded judiciously. "Good," he said again, and headed downstairs. Amy and Vicky followed.


"I've called this conference," said Director Piggot, "to determine the status of the Undersiders, and to see which ones are willing and able to become part of the Wards or the Protectorate proper."

Around the table sat the Director, Armsmaster, Miss Militia, Pathfinder and Compass Rose, Aegis, Insight, Grue and Bitch. A wall-mounted screen showed a view of Regent, still lying on a bed in the infirmary. The medics had stated that they didn't want to move him until he was out of danger; in any case, he had lost rather a lot of blood, and was weaker than they would have liked.

This had not stopped him from smarting off, of course.

"The way I see it," said Insight, "the Undersiders are basically finished, as a group. Coil was the main reason we – they – were successful, and he's out of the picture. I'm out – I never wanted to be in the group in the first place – and I'm liking it where I am now. You have two able-bodied members, one of whom has a murder charge hanging over her head."

"She deserved it," muttered Bitch. "Tried to drown my dog."

"That's as may be," declared Director Piggot. "Grue. Your real name is …?"

"Brian Laborn," replied the tall black youth in the motorcycle leathers. "I've got no trouble joining, but I'm going to need a favour."

"We're not in the business of giving out favours to criminals," snapped Armsmaster.

"Wait," said Pathfinder. "Suppose we find out what the favour is, first."

Miss Militia nodded. "Suppose we do." She looked toward Brian. "Mr Laborn?"

Brian sighed. "I have a sister. Her name's Aisha. She's living with my mother and whatever her boyfriend of the week is like. Mom's a druggie, and she attracts more of the same. I want Aisha out of there – she's only thirteen."

Taylor concentrated on the name 'Aisha Laborn' and she quickly formed a mental image. She took hold of Pathfinder's hand under the table, and it went from a still image to real-time action.

They stood at the same time, their chairs skidding backward. Purple-brown smoke billowed, and they were gone.

Silence fell on the room; Compass Rose's chair tilted back and fell over. Everyone jumped, except Insight.

"The hell?" said Brian. "Do they do that often?"

"Only if someone's in trouble," said Miss Militia and Insight simultaneously. They glanced at each other in mild surprise.

Brian came to his feet. "Aisha!" he exclaimed, his face going grey with worry.

"Sit. Down," ordered Armsmaster. "I won't tell you twice."

"Besides," said Miss Militia, "they're very effective. They know what –"


Smoke billowed, and they reappeared beside the table. Compass Rose had one arm around a black girl in her early teens. She was dressed, or almost so, in a strapless top that would have served better as underwear, ripped denim shorts and neon green fishnet leggings.

"Brian!" called the girl, pulling free of Compass Rose's arm and running around the table. Compass Rose looked around for her chair, picked it up, and leaned on it, apparently catching her breath. Pathfinder pulled a handkerchief from a puff of smoke, and seemed to be wiping blood from the knuckles of his gloves.

"Aisha!" replied Brian, and he met the girl halfway. They hugged, fiercely.

"You got some badass friends, big bro," said Aisha, not letting Brian go. "Beat the living goddamn shit out of Bradley. Good thing, too." She began to describe Bradley in terms which were both highly colourful and considerably obscene.

"Enough!" shouted the Director, and for a wonder, Aisha shut up. "What … is going on here?"

Compass Rose looked around at her. "This 'Bradley' was attempting to assault Aisha here. He had her clothes half off when I saw them. I had no time to ask permission. We went there. Pathfinder explained to Bradley the error of his ways, while I calmed down Aisha and then we brought her back." She didn't explain why she seemed out of breath.

"Fuckin' explained the fuckin' error of his ways, all right!" crowed Aisha. "Where can I get boots like that? I wanna go back an' kick the shit out of him some more."

Piggot leaned out and looked down at Pathfinder's boots. They appeared to be stained with a variety of substances. This might have been mud, or something else.

Brian spoke up. "Help me take care of Aisha and I'll join. Follow whatever rules you want me to." He looked over at Pathfinder and Compass Rose. "Thank you. I mean it."

"We're not a childcare agency –" began Armsmaster.

"With all due respect, sir," said Pathfinder. "But you didn't see that house. We did. I wouldn't have imprisoned Coil there. Taking that girl out of that place was the best thing that we could have done for her." He took a deep breath. "I'll adopt her before I let her go back."

Aisha stared at him. "You'd do that? For me?" She looked around the table at the others seated there, and then back at Brian. "Wait one cotton-pickin' second, big bro. Who are you joining again? Because this looks awful like the Protectorate, here."

Brian nodded. "And that's who I'm joining, Aisha," he said. "They saved my life, me and Rachel and Alec. From Lung."

Aisha stared, impressed. "You went up against Lung? Fuck me, that must have been some fight."

"Not really," said Aegis. "From what I heard, Pathfinder and Compass Rose dropped a ship on him. He sort of folded after that."

Aisha's eyes widened. "Fu –"

"One more expletive out of your mouth, young lady," snapped Director Piggot, "and I will give Pathfinder and Compass Rose a direct order to take you to the nearest washroom and scrub your mouth out with soap." She slapped the table with her hand. "Do I make myself abundantly clear?"

Aisha stopped talking, looked at Piggot, then at Pathfinder, then at Compass Rose. The latter nodded, as if to say, Yes, we'd do it.

"Uh, yes, you do," she said, pausing in between words to apparently ensure that she wasn't going to come out with an accidental swear-word.

"I'm impressed," commented Brian, into the silence that followed. "No-one's ever managed to get Aisha's attention like that before."

"Well, he-heck, big bro," Aisha said cheerfully. "You shoulda seen Mr, uh, Pathfinder here, kicking the living sh-sh-shoelaces outta Bradley. He fu-f-uh, he made him real sorry he'd ever touched me."

"Still not sure you should have thrown him down the stairs, though," commented Compass Rose.

Piggot stared. "You threw a man down the stairs?" she demanded.

Pathfinder shrugged. "Child molester, would-be rapist," he said, as if this explained it all.

Aegis, Armsmaster, Miss Militia and Director Piggot looked at one another.

"I'm, uh, not seeing a problem," said Aegis.

Miss Militia shrugged.

Armsmaster frowned, then nodded. "I have little sympathy for him," he concluded.

The Director looked at Compass Rose. "His current status?" she demanded.

She took hold of Pathfinder's hand. "Moving. Alive. Appears to have a broken arm. In some pain. But he's almost at the top of the stairs again."

"Well, he's alive, and he may well have learned a salutary lesson," said Piggot. "Unless Ms Laborn wants to press charges …?"

Aisha shrugged. "Fu – uh, forget him," she decided, with a quick glance at Pathfinder. "If I can stay with you guys, I'm good."

"What's the legalities of this situation?" asked Pathfinder. "Getting her out of her mother's custody might be quite a battle."

Director Piggot shrugged. "There's drugs in the house?"

Aisha nodded. "A shi-uh, shedload, yeah."

"So we call the police," continued the Director. "They raid the place, bust everyone for possession, she's no longer a fit mother, and we fast-track her being put into your joint custody." She looked at Brian, then at Pathfinder. "Mr Laborn, how old are you?"

"Seventeen, ma'am," said Brian promptly.

She nodded. "Well, when you turn eighteen, you'll be eligible to take full custody. Until then, you and Pathfinder here will have joint custody. How does that suit you?"

Brian looked at Pathfinder. "You got her out of that hellhole. That suits me just fine."

"Well then, that's settled. Mr Laborn, find your sister a seat, and start thinking about the name you'll be using in the Wards. Also, your sister will need more substantial clothing than she's wearing at the moment."

Compass Rose leaned in and whispered for a moment to Pathfinder; a few seconds later, a puff of spoke heralded the arrival of a folded T-shirt in his free hand. It puffed again, reappearing on the table in front of Brian.

"The hell?" he said, picking it up, and opening it to show a screen-print of Alexandria on it.

"Let's just say, I'm donating to the cause," said Compass Rose.

Brian wordlessly handed the shirt to his sister, who looked at Pathfinder and Compass Rose. The latter nodded. Aisha shrugged, and pulled the shirt over her head, drastically reducing the amount of skin she was showing.

"Thank you, Compass Rose," said the Director. "Moving on. Ms Lindt."

"Bitch," muttered the stocky auburn-haired girl.

"I beg your pardon?" snapped Director Piggot.

"Unacceptable!" snapped Armsmaster at the same time.

"Whoa, whoa," said Brian. "She calls herself Bitch. She wasn't calling you a name, she was just telling you what she wants to be called." He turned to his companion. "Right – Bitch?"

Reluctantly, she nodded.

Piggot frowned. "Well, in that case … we're going to have to change that name. But, for the moment … are you willing to join the Wards?"

Rachel raised her eyes to the Director. "Do I get to keep the dogs?" she asked bluntly.

"Kennels can be set up for them," said Miss Militia cautiously.

"No, I mean all the dogs," countered Rachel.

"I … don't get you," said Director Piggot.

Brian cleared his throat. "Uh, if I may, ma'am?" he said.

Piggot nodded. "Go ahead, Mr Laborn."

"Uh, Bitch wants to be able to take in any stray dogs she finds," he explained. "Any that are being mistreated. There are dog-fighting rings in the city. She wants to take those down, too, rescue the dogs."

"And once you've got these dogs," said Armsmaster, "what will you do with them?"

"Feed them," said Rachel. "Get them healthy. Train them."

"She's really, really good with dogs," put in Brian.

"Could you train dogs to police standards?" asked Miss Militia, her expression thoughtful.

Rachel just snorted.

"That's a yes," clarified Brian. "But she doesn't stop there."

"Very well," said Director Piggot. "Suppose I placed you in the PRT – under supervision, of course – to work with police and military dog handlers, training dogs to your standards. And I made it a condition of your working for us that any stray dogs go under your care, and you have adequate facilities to care for them all."

Rachel looked up at her. "What's the catch?" she asked.

Piggot gave her a thin smile. "You train dogs to work with other people," she said bluntly. "Not just you."

Bitch gave her a flat stare. "Okay, but I get to take any dog that needs help. Not just the types trainers need."

The Director matched her, stare for stare. "Deal," she said.

Armsmaster cleared his throat. "Uh – what about the fact that she's got a murder charge on her sheet?"

Piggot gave him a bland stare. "I said she'll be under supervision. You're it. You're also her liaison. If she has a complaint, she goes to you. If people are screwing her over, all I want to hear is the after-action report."

Both Armsmaster and Rachel started to protest; Piggot stared them both down. "You've got a problem with each other, deal with it between yourselves," she said grimly. "Now. Regent."

The speaker next to the wall screen came to life. "Ah, Director. I was wondering when you'd get to me."

"I would have waited until you were healthier," said the Director, "but I'd prefer to get this out of the way now." She paused. "We have several aliases on file for you. Which is your birth name?"

"Jean-Paul Vasil,"replied Regent on the screen. "But I prefer just plain 'Alec'."

"Vasil … Vasil," muttered Armsmaster. "I know that name." He muttered the name one more time, then paused.

A moment later, he spoke slowly. "You're related to Heartbreaker?"

"The very same," confirmed Regent. "But I'd rather that did not become common knowledge. He might decide to come take me back. And I don't want to go back." He paused. "But here's the thing. I'm grateful for the rescue and the medical attention; don't think I'm not. But I'm a Master. I control people. This sort of creeps people out. Is there even room in your clubhouse for someone like me?"

"What do you control about people?" asked Miss Militia.

"Their movements. Use of physical powers. Stuff like that,"said Regent.

"So you don't control minds?" pressed Miss Militia.

"Not as such, no,"confirmed Regent. "Don't think I haven't tried. But it just doesn't work that way."

Miss Militia glanced at Armsmaster. He nodded fractionally.

"So we team you with people who have mental abilities, that you can't control," he said. "Of course, like the others, you'll wear a tracking bracelet until we decide you're trustworthy."

"Seriously?" asked Regent. "Why not just an explosive collar?"

"We prefer not to use such drastic means," Director Piggot deadpanned. "Though we could make an exception in your case."

Regent grinned. "Okay, fine. Tracking bracelet it is."

"Then welcome to the Wards," said Director Piggot.

She got up and left the room; as she went, Compass Rose heard her mutter something. She couldn't be sure, but it sounded like, "and I hope we're not all making a huge mistake."

She understood the sentiment perfectly.


End of Part 18