Chapter XVI.

"If I live to be a hundred years old, I still won't believe it."

Mariel Maplewood Castanea looked down at her research project-whom she and Tammy had now dubbed 'Blank Hackwrench'-and marveled at the mousemaiden's sheer tenacity. The trauma her regenerations were wreaking with her cellular structure would have long since killed normal mice, but Blank seemingly had dug in her heels and refused to let go. Something inside her simply refused to give up, and Mariel found herself filled with great admiration for her newfound cousin, whoever she was.

"What is it that's keeping you going?" she wondered, checking the vitals for the tenth time that hour. "Is it somebody at home? A boy, maybe?"

She considered the thought.

"Or have you got a family already? Is there a little one, perhaps? I know I miss mine, with all this nonsense we're going through-but I know their Dad and their Nana are taking good care of them. It keeps me going, knowing that."

"Nnnnggghh..."

"Shhh...hold on, I'm here."

The shuddering moan instantly put Mariel on alert, and she put a hand to Blank's forehead, checking her ever-present fever.

"Great golly-poggles, but you're burning alive...wish there was something more I could do for it. I may be the science wing of this operation, but Tammy's the real MD. She's so good it's almost scary, when she gets in the lab-but she still had time to be my pediatrician, when I was little. Momma could have taken us to Doc Peppercorn over by the main fountain, but no way-Aunt Tammy wasn't having that. Gadget Maplewood might have been our mother, but we were 'her' kids, too. The Rescue Rangers are like that-we're all family."

Blank made a sound that was almost a tortured, gasping gurgle, and Mariel noticed the trickling, bright wisps of light that played about her fingertips, rippling through her hair and caressing the pink edges and ridges of her ears. Somewhere inside her, the battle was still raging.

"You're trying to do it again, aren't you."

While she might not have quite all of her mother's ingenuity, Mariel was a mental force to be reckoned with, and she bent all of her considerable intellect on some way to make Blank more comfortable at least, while the others were still working. There had to be something she could do.

"I wonder...I just wonder. Sometimes the old ways are best."

Puttering around the lab space, she retrieved a hypo-injector from Tammy's kit, and loaded a cartridge from the tray on the table.

"Non-steroidal anti-inflammatory," she declared, dialing the device for the right dosage. "The rate you're going, it'll either bring down your fever, or you'll burn right through it. Let's hope for the first one."

Holding the hypo to Blank's neck, Mariel hit the button on the injector, and sat back. Naturally nothing would happen immediately, but she'd done the only thing she could think of beyond a good old-fashioned cold rag, which she set about getting also. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she felt an odd sense of responsibility for this young mouse.

"Maybe it's just the mom in me," she mused with a smile, applying the cool compress to her restless patient's face. "Or my mom in me, for that matter. She'd be doing the same thing."

"That she would."

Geegaw Hackwrench winced as he stepped down to the lab's level, minding his arthritic joints as he leaned on his cane. Gadget had offered to build him a hover-chair several times, but Geegaw was too proud, too independent, and he was having none of it.

"Thought you could use something to make the shift a little more pleasant," he said with a smile, producing a mug of black coffee, still steaming.

"Ohhh Grampa, do I ever love you."

"You should, I changed enough a' your diapers," he returned with a wink, easing himself down into the armchair next to Mariel's, and watching with satisfaction as she took a deep draught from the cup.

"Smooth, Grampa...real smooth."

"It's a gift. One your mother sadly did not inherit, an' neither did your Uncle Corky," he said ruefully. "Those two make somethin' that tastes really similar to a good prop de-icer."

She coughed abruptly, and wiped the coffee from her nose with the back of her hand.

"Don't do that when I'm drinking!" she laughed, before draining the mug down to the dregs. "See now, you made me waste perfectly good caffeine."

"You are definitely your mother's daughter."

Glancing at Blank, he reached over to adjust the blanket that was tucked around her.

"How's our friend?"

"About the same. I gave her something a few minutes ago I'm hopin' will help."

"You always were the one takin' care of everybody. That's something else you got from your mother. She took care of us all after...well, after."

"After Gramma Britt died?"

Geegaw looked up sharply, a fire dancing in his blue eyes.

"Mind yourself, child! I-"

Seeing Mariel's expression, he bit back the harsh words he'd first thought.

"Forgive me, baby girl. Sometimes old age puts an edge on you it's hard to dull down."

"I'm sorry Grampa. I didn't mean to open up old wounds, as Tammy says."

"Don't be sorry, kid. This situation just brings back a few unpleasant memories, that's all."

"For me, too. I keep thinkin' about Mom."

"So do I. I feel like I failed, in a way."

"You didn't fail at all, Grampa Geegaw...look around."

She took him by the arm.

"Part of the reason Momma stayed and helped found the Rescue Rangers is because of what she learned from you. Think how many humans and rodents alike are safe now, because of that."

She wrinkled her nose in that peculiarly Gadget-type way, and smiled at him.

"I'm safe, because of that."

Down in his heart, Geegaw mustered up the will to return his granddaughter's bright grin, and he pulled her in for a hug.

"You're good medicine, y'know that girl?"

"Like I always say-what're little sparkplugs for?"

He laughed, recalling to mind every time Mariel had pouted when he'd called her that very thing. It felt wonderful after the last several days to finally have a good memory.

"Maybe I need to start dredgin' up more of those."

"Of what, Grampa?"

"Little bits of good medicine. You'll see."

Leaning back in his chair, he watched with pride as Mariel checked Blank's fever again, and squeezed out the cool rag she was keeping on her forehead. She was a credit to the name, this one.

"Now, let's see here...good memories."

Geegaw produced his pipe from a pocket as he talked, tapping it against the side of his boot.

"Oh Grampa, must you?"

"No worries my darlin'-Tammy figured out a way to clear the chemicals outta the stuff years ago. It's...just a comfortable habit, now."

Striking a match to the bowl, he contemplated the rings that began puffing around his head.

"Good memories, let's see...hmm...the summer of '77 was one. We'd just dropped a cargo of emergency supplies off to a tribe of landlocked dingoes off the coast of New Zealand, when we encountered..."

On the levels below, where the Rangers had hastily erected several makeshift computer stations over the preceding weeks, the conversation was not straying to such pleasant recollections.

"Could she be one of your Aunt Trinket's bunch, you think?"

Tammy stared at the screen much as she had for the last several hours, as Lawainie made a noncommittal sound from behind her hand. Taking a deep breath, she resisted the urge to bite her nails, as she was prone to do when she was nervous.

"It's possible, I suppose...we haven't seen most of them in years, they all live in Germany."

"That's right, Gadget always made that revolting red cabbage recipe she got from her, every Christmas."

"Don't remind me, I just had a sandwich a few minutes ago."

Tammy grimaced in sympathy, and went back to her mental rolodex, trying to remember all the names and faces from across the years.

"What about your Aunt Widget's family?"

Lawainie just shuddered.

"The less said about them, the better. Besides, I don't think Aunt Widj and Uncle Jurgen ever had kids, that I remember."

"Yeah, I forgot about that. Are we missing anybody?"

"Well, there's Uncle Drillbit and his crew, I hadn't thought about them," Lawainie considered, playing with one of her curls idly as she mulled the matter over in her mind. "I always liked Uncle Drillbit," she smiled. "He calls me his little spitfire."

"Won't help you," Geegaw called out.

"Why not?"

"Drillbit's boys are adopted."

"Sprockets!" she growled. "I forgot about that. But they look like him!"

"The world's strange like that, princess. Anyway, we've been through all of my clan, but there's other Hackwrenches out there. My grandfather, old Smokebox Hackwrench, he had four sons and three daughters. There's no telling without hearing it from her."

"Do any of them live in relatively close proximity?" Tammy asked.

"Nearest is...probably my cousin Hacksaw, over in Akron. But that's still pretty far."

"I'm ruling nothing out, at this point. It's like building a Lego set with no instructions, when there's no medical history to go on."

"I've done that, it's kinda relaxing, actually."

Tammy shot Lawainie a look, and she shrugged.

"What? Can't I have a childhood?"

"At your age, is it the second or the fifth?"

The mouse merely tossed her hair as she turned back to the keyboard, eyeing Tammy cheekily over her shoulder.

"Whoever said I left the first one?"

"Cute. I ask for a lab assistant and I get a runner up for Miss Congeniality. Say goodnight, Gracie."

"Please...someone tell them...to stop fussing," a voice echoed from below. "My eardrums...are fidgeting."

"She's awake?" Tammy asked in shock. "I don't know how she's even physically cohesive, much less awake!"

"Please...not so loud. The wombats keep tap-dancing on my head."

"Sounds like a student at the Monterey Jack School a' Hard Knocks," Lawainie chuckled, tossing her clipboard into Tammy's hands. Gathering up the materials and medications the squirrel had laid out for her kit, she made for the deck ladder, and swung over with a hopeful spring in her step.

"C'mon Red. Let's go see what we've got to work with."

**********************************************************************************************************

"My fellow delegates, I thank you for your applause, your well wishes, and above all, your friendship. Never has any member of my family been so welcomed by so many, since the days of Basil himself. I am touched, and from the bottom of my heart, I thank you."

Thunderous applause broke out again, filling the RAS General Council chamber with its' swelling crescendo. Their speaker waved to the crowd with both hands, smiling for the throng as he motioned for silence, urging a calm to the deafening chorus from the assembly floor.

"This is a day which I have much anticipated, my good friends. The day when I, Birchbriar Bakerstreet, Lord of Baker Street and Third Baron of Tipton, would be able to show my quality, doing something to serve the society which has nurtured me, as my ancestor before me. Yes, I call upon the long tradition of service set down by my illustrious forebears, those who shaped the hallowed halls walked by the crowned heads of our small culture. Who left a legacy which cannot be denied."

Pausing for a breath and once again for riotous applause, Lord Bakerstreet shuffled his notes and prepared to make his grand cast for the catch.

"Basil of Baker Street was a giant among our kind. A titan among mice," he proclaimed, punctuating his words with force. "Long were the days of the life he dedicated to defending and protecting his fellow creatures, and it is in his formidable footsteps that I hope to follow-as I make this announcement of my intention, to stand for election as the next Secretary General of the Rescue Aid Society!"

There was no containing the explosion of enthusiasm on the assembly floor, as scores of creatures shouted their approval and their heartfelt endorsement. Birchbriar, or Bert to his friends, brought his hands to his heart, and then extended them to the crowd, showing off his acceptance of their confidence as he strode from the podium, aiming for a seat in the legislature's front row. The chairmouse rose to resume his post behind the small desk, and banged his gavel for order.

"Ladies and gentlecreatures, the representative from London. Thank you Lord Bakerstreet, for your dedication and your loyalty to excellence, in this new era."

The creatures filling the hall roared once again, and he gaveled forcefully for their attention.

"Order, order! Ladies and gentlecreatures, we must have order!"

Over and over he gaveled the raucous mass to a state of propriety, waiting anxiously as the noise faded to a continuous, enthusiastic rumble. The majority of the time this job was easy, but on occasions like this the assembly could be worse than the group the humans called Congress.

"Ladies and gentlecreatures, thank you for momentarily suspending your enthusiasm," the chairmouse acknowledged gratefully. "As you well know, each three years the members of the Society gather, to examine our mission, our leadership, and to appoint new guardians of the governmental process to office. It is our wish to involve all those who have a desire to serve the public in any way possible, as service with justice and honor is the lifeblood of this organization. I give my heartfelt thanks to Lord Bakerstreet, that he is willing to accept this responsibility."

Applause erupted once more from the assembled creatures, and Bakerstreet raised his hand, acknowledging them with a nod, as the chairmouse began to drone through a necessary policy and procedures piece, the same that he gave each time this body was called together.

"Well played, mon ami," a voice said from his elbow, speaking close to his ear to avoid the din around them. Bakerstreet jumped as Desiree D'Allure eased herself into the seat beside him, keeping her eye on the proceedings.

"You had zem eating from your hand, yes?"

"So it would seem," he grunted. "Like most peasants, throw them a bone in the form of either compliment or commiseration, and the are quickly yours. Politics is an easily read science."

D'Allure placed one wizened hand atop his, and she sighed with a wistful look of disappointment.

"It is a shame we were born in such different times. I could have liked you, my lord. Quite a bit."

Bakerstreet flinched slightly, but kept a stony, stoic face forward.

"I still do not know how you discovered my intent to come here. I realize now that Mr. Banastre's offer of a business partnership was mostly a ruse...and I had laid plans carefully. Very carefully," he added with emphasis.

"As I have laid mine. We are of a sort, you and I, I think."

The younger mouse's facade cracked slightly, and he frowned at the thought.

"You and I are nothing of the sort, dear lady."

"Are we not? You seek vindication. To bring order where your forebear could not. A calmness in ze chaos. I admire that."

"I am sure."

"I also seek vindication. An opportunity to change ze world, in a quite different mold zan it has taken. Our goals seem aligned."

"For the moment, at least. Where is our great influencer?" he asked. "I had thought he would put in an appearance at such an event."

"Banastre comes, and he goes. Where zere is money to be made, zere you will find him. He attends it with his every thought."

"It is not always a bad thing."

Smoothing the front of his expensive, tailored suit, Bakerstreet consulted the large watch hanging to the right of them.

"When an opportunity knocks, one must seize it-even if it may at times be somewhat distasteful," he said smoothly, reaching to his pocket for a comb to tame the silvering fur between his ears. Desiree showed no emotion to his quip.

"Distasteful as it may be, it is an opportunity nonetheless, and you would do well to remember it. You have some wealth, yes, but Banastre has influence, ze same tool for which I have used him to my design. With it, he can hand you ze New York District, which as we both know you cannot win election without. He who holds New York, will be ze Secretary General. So it has always been."

"Yes, and for that I must thank him, I suppose. What of Hackwrench? I have yet to see a plan for solving my...personal stake, in this enterprise."

"You shall see soon enough. We have...arrangements in place, which should soon bear fruit."

"I should like to see those arrangements."

D'Allure's eyes turned to burning slits, as the two stared at each other amid the revelry.

"I am accustomed to speaking, and it is made zo," she replied quietly, the words dripping with malice and contempt.

"And I, madam, am a Bakerstreet. We leave nothing to chance."

She smiled coldly.

"Zen why does your family not now sit in ze royal court, hmm?"

The barb struck a nerve, just as she had intended, and Desiree watched her unwilling ally struggle to keep his composure. There was a fury in him, this one. Fury that she could appreciated, and bend to her advantage.

"One thing," he managed to growl, "have we ever left to chance. One thing alone. And it cost us dearly-our destiny, our position...and our brightest star. Make no mistake, madam-all of this has been carefully, masterfully orchestrated toward the single purpose of repaying that debt. As I said at our first meeting...you are a means to an end. Do not presume more."

"For both of our respective endeavors, I believe we can make ze same statement."

Bakerstreet regarded her coolly.

"I have yet to be told what that endeavor is, exactly. I am not a creature accustomed to being kept in the dark."

"Do not worry, my friend. Let us simply zay that my goal is not zo different from your own."

The peaceful, liquid smile that lit her face was possibly the most disturbing that he had ever seen.

"Yes...not zo different at all."

**********************************************************************************************************

True to the evidence, Blank was sitting up on the side of her gurney, blankets abandoned as Mariel handed her a glass of water, which she gulped down gratefully.

"Thanks, that helps-golly but it's hot in here."

Mariel blinked, and she wiggled a finger in one ear.

"I'm sorry...could you repeat that?"

"Repeat what?"

"That's...what I thought. Sorry, just for a minute you reminded me of somebody I-well, I used to know."

"I get that a lot. I just wish somebody could put a name to it."

Shaking her head, she eased off the gurney onto her feet, and nearly fell into Geegaw's lap in the process. As much as she might be awake, equilibrium was quite another thing.

"Stop right there!"

Tammy's voice cracked across the dim bunker like a whip, and she stepped off the ladder armed with the righteous fury of a small, fuzzy hurricane.

"Back in the bed."

"But I-"

"Right now, young lady! I may be no miracle worker, but if I'm gonna try to pull one outta my hat you're going to at least keep me an intact canvas to work with!"

"Doctor, can I ask a question?"

Tammy sighed.

"Of course."

"You don't have a hat."

"I-what? What has that got to do with anything?"

"Well you said you were going to try and pull a miracle out of your hat, and the statistical probability of doing that even with appropriate headgear would be almost three thousand to on-"

Blank stopped abruptly, and looked around at the roomful of bemused expressions.

"Umm...I get the impression I just made a social indiscretion or something."

Mariel smiled and broke out into a fit of giggles.

"No, no of course not-but I think we just definitively proved at least half of your identity, Miss Hackwrench."

The younger mousemaiden straightened slowly. At mention of the name 'Hackwrench', a strange, almost glowing smile lit her face.

"My name..."

She clapped delightedly.

"You know my name!"

"Half of it, like we said!" Mariel replied calmingly, putting her hands on Blank's shoulders as she eased her gently back down onto the exam bed. "Now, let's not get excited-you are still on fire nearly, and we're doing our best to figure out what's wrong with you."

She sat down beside the Rangers' new case nervously, doing her best not to give away just how puzzled she was.

"Let's just say it's a bit of a mystery."

"That much we can agree on. Are the Professor and Moira still here?"

"Don't worry, they'll be back shortly, they just went out with the boys to get some supplies-it's a little bit of a tricky arrangement to stock this place these days, you know."

"I know the Professor said you were outlaws of some kind?"

"I prefer the term fugitive, personally," Lawainie interjected. "It has a lot more style."

Tammy shot her a look of pure acid, and she put up her hands, whistling innocently as she inspected the readings on Blank's monitor screen. The newcomer looked back and forth between them for a moment, looking confused.

"Do you do this often?"

"What's that?"

"This...quarrel, or whatever it is?"

Tammy laughed.

"Listen, believe it or not, I actually like her. Although if you repeat that I'll deny it. Lawainie's rough around the edges and she likes to flirt way too much...but underneath the eye shadow she's a good egg. One of the best, unless you do something to scramble her. Remind me to tell you about a blind double date she set up for us with these two hedgehog brothers, when we were undercover once."

The doctor smirked lightly, almost laughing out loud as she recalled the events of that particular evening.

"That was one prickly kiss goodnight-I thought she was gonna knock the stuffing outta that poor fellow. It took me an hour to pull the quills from around her nose."

Lawainie's back stiffened.

"You promised you'd never tell a living soul about that. Whatever happened to doctor patient confidentiality?!"

"Nothin', that's just what happens when you bounce a check at my clinic."

Blank's mouth shifted into a quirky, wobbly line, and she put her head in her hands.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do," she managed, biting her lip to stifle her laughter. "But please, don't make me do that, it hurts!"

"That's no wonder," Tammy replied, pulling out her stethoscope, "with everything you've been through. I'd appreciate a little background, if you can give it to me."

"I'll give you everything I know, but that isn't much I'm afraid."

Launching into what seemed like an extended monologue, Blank gave Tammy the entire picture as she knew it, from her adventure in the Park, to waking in Von Drake's lab, and everything else that had befallen her in the time since. Tammy was a squirrel, and they can by nature have short attention spans, but she kept a laser-focus on her young patient's tale, mentally noting certain details and making notes as she went. If something had been a triggering catalyst for this condition, she meant to find it. What it might be she had no idea yet, but it was a mystery begging to be solved, and Tammy intended to solve it.

"Dr. Reguba, if I may?"

She jumped at the voice, realizing she had been absorbed in Blank's story for over an hour as she sat with her knees pulled up, lost in thought.

"Oh, KITT-yes, yes go ahead. I got caught up in my work, I'm afraid."

She looked down at Blank, who near the end of her story had apparently fallen asleep again, this time a more peaceful, restful sleep.

"So did she, it would seem."

"That is what I contacted you about-by piggybacking my transmissions along other messages and frequencies, I have managed to tap your Central Park Net-I must keep my signal power low to avoid overload of your systems, but I now have access to more of the goings on in your world. It has been most illuminating."

"I'm glad our gossip is interesting. Have you watched an episode of 'The Fast and the Furless' yet?"

"Not quite yet, but it is on my list. I did however have another reason for attempting this endeavor, and that is for access to your news and law enforcement databases. I have located the twin Miss Maplewoods."

"Located them? Where?"

"If I'm not much mistaken, they were booked into RAS custody yesterday evening, and arraigned early this past morning by Prosecutor Ableheart before Judge Byrock."

Tammy's heart froze.

"Is there a trial date?"

"I'm afraid not. It appears the twins were quite ably defended by a Mr. Mason, and are now in the care of their Uncle Corkscrew."

"Corky's here! Oh thank heavens, that is good news. If anybody is as determined to get to the bottom of anything as Chip is, it's our Corky."

"So I have heard. He appears quite fond of his nieces, from the scuttlebutt."

It took a solid clue at this point in her career to raise Tammy's sense of a threat, and alarm bells began ringing from her nose to her tail at the word 'scuttlebutt'.

"Scuttlebutt? What scuttlebutt?"

"I have been monitoring the RAS interoffice bands. There has been a great deal of discussion regarding Mr. Hackwrench's appearance. From what I gather, I believe he was expected."

"Since none of us sent for him, that almost gives the impression that he was watched on his way here. Is there anything saying the RAS has feelers out on any of the rest of our families?"

"Not at this time. There appears to have been a shift in the organization's concerns over the last several days, at least concerning the New York City field office, which as you know is the most important."

"Just how d'you know so much about RAS internal politics?"

KITT emitted a sheepish hum of background noise.

"I may have inadvertently...absorbed their database, when connecting to the Central Park Net."

"You downloaded the entire RAS database?"

"Only select bits of it. Many had a great deal of encryption and would have raised suspicion, so I merely took what I could from the surface."

KITT talked so nonchalantly about this sort of thing, that it forced her to remember how many years the amiable old computer had been involved in field operations himself.

"Were you able to peek into any of the Legal Branch's files?"

"Only a few superficial directories on the surface. I must say that for a lot of rodents, their security is quite good."

Tammy crossed her arms and looked up at the screen expectantly, tapping her foot as a hum of embarrassed static issue from the speaker.

"Er, that may not have come out exactly as I intended it."

"I think we can give you a pass this time, you've earned that much."

Sighing, the squirrel laid her head down on the counter for a moment, willing the cobwebs to clear. The last week had been a constant struggle to stay ahead, and sleep had been at a premium. It was days like this she felt her own age gradually catching up with her.

"Dr. Reguba, if I may...I believe it might be prudent for you to take some rest. There are others working on the problems, I am still processing the file Mr. Maplewood requested-and you have slept exactly four point three hours of the last forty-eight. I believe even your species requires more than this."

"You're probably right. I do feel like a best case episode of road kill."

Yawning, she gave an appreciative pat to the console.

"If I'm not up, have somebody wake me in about three hours, so I can get back to work."

"Make it four, and you have a deal."

"Deal. You know, you'd make a decent scout troop den-mother, with a little makeup."

"I've been called worse. Pleasant dreams, Dr. Reguba."

"Thank you, KITT."

On a whim, she turned back to the screen, a thoughtful expression clouding her features.

"KITT?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"You said there'd been a shift in priorities for the New York Office, the last few days. What's with the change?"

"One moment...scanning."

A number of file directories opened on the screen, and KITT highlighted the available ones that were related.

"It would seem that a great deal of fuss is being made over the arrival of a foreign dignitary of some import. A member of Her Majesty's cabinet for Mousedom, and one of their newer representatives to the RAS, it appears. A gentleman-er, mouse, by the name of Bakerstreet. Birchbriar Bakerstreet."

From below came the sound of a crash and a large commotion, as Geegaw Hackwrench wobbled out of his chair, sending test tubes, coffee cups and other implements clattering to the floor both whole and in pieces. Blank shot bolt upright on the exam bed with a scream of terror, and Mariel erupted out of the nap she'd fallen into like a coiled spring, spoiling for a fight.

"What's wrong? Grampa Geegaw, what is it?"

"Haunt us...come back to haunt us! Oh, Britt my love, whatta I do now-you said they'd come back to haunt us!"

Lawainie slid down the ladder like a mad firemouse, and between the two of them she and Mariel brought the old pilot down to his seat, easing him back into the cushions as he continued to babble incoherently, his face locked in an expression of loathing and terror.

"Ssh, come on-Daddy, come on, snap out of it! What's the matter with you-I haven't seen you this bent out of airframe since I divebombed the plane through that waterfall in New Zealand, and that's been years ago-Daddy come on, answer me!"

"Right! Right...I'm sorry, I...oh Lawainie my girl, I'm sorry...I'm so sorry. I just thought that at this time of life, when I'm so close to leaving it...I might have finally, ultimately escaped our past. That I might have a few good years left me in peace. I should have known they'd never give up-he swore that they wouldn't."

Laying Geegaw's cane aside, Lawainie sat down gently beside him, entertwining her hand in his.

"Mariel-would you wanna run and get us some coffee? The strong stuff, not that mellow mush he makes."

"Sure, Aunt Lawainie-be right back."

Watching to ensure her niece had receded into the shadows sufficiently, Lawainie took Geegaw's face in her hands, smoothing his hair and letting him settle more comfortably, as he had before.

"All right, Daddy...it's just me an' you now. Tell me what the deal is with all this guff. Who is this Bakerstreet chump?"

She lowered her voice, and her tone softened.

"C'mon, Dad...let me in. Maybe for once I can help."

Pulling in a deep, ragged breath, Geegaw exhaled tiredly, looking into his daughter's eyes. The forlorn, dejected sadness there pulled at Lawainie's heart, and she leaned down, putting her arms around him.

"I know I'm not Gadget," she whispered. "But I'm here, now."

"So you are. So you are, princess, an' I'm glad...I've sat on this for a long time. Gadget knew all of it, and Corky some. But it's time you heard this tale for yourself."

He smiled wanly.

"Britt would have wanted it that way."