Thank you once again for the kind reviews. Y'all are the only reason this story's still going. Mwah!
August
Max pulled her shirt down over her ever-expanding belly and sighed. She had grown to hate maternity clothes with a fiery passion, but Alec just laughed at her and told her she was beautiful no matter how stretchy her trousers were.
Dr. Peterson and Dr. Gupta had finished with her appointment. The sickness had passed, thank goodness, but she still came in every other day like clockwork. The doctors were working very hard to keep her body chemistry and hormones to acceptable levels.
Normally, Alec came with her for her appointments, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. The bill to grant them citizenship had been killed before it ever reached the full Senate. Next year was an election year, and none of the senators up for election wanted such a divisive issue on their record. Each side was of course blaming the other and promising the topic would be brought up again, but the truth was, they didn't want to deal with the problem, so they weren't going to. The government just wanted transgenics to shut their mouths and tolerate whatever scraps they were thrown like the good little pets they were.
After the news broke, the president had personally called Command and asked for a meeting. Max had begged off for obvious reasons. Alec had hesitated, but Max had ordered him to go. Who was she to ignore the president's request just because she wanted her husband to hold her hand while the docs drew more blood? The president had sent Secretary Gordon to them back at the beginning with orders to fix the mess, which was the reason they owned Terminal City. The president had backed them before, and she hoped this was a sign he was going to back them again. Thankfully, he was in California, so at least Alec hadn't been forced to fly all the way to D.C.
Max finished getting herself all back together, and walked out into the main room of the infirmary. They were setting up an IV near her usual chair for her cocktail of whatever needed fixing today. The babies were growing and they were demanding more and more from her system. Usually it was vitamin or mineral deficiencies, but sometimes her body chemistry was weird and needed a goose.
Max sat down in the comfy recliner chair and used the lever to prop her feet up. She was such a fixture at this point that all the doctors and nurses simply nodded in greeting when she turned up. Peterson rolled the IV stand over where he already had several bags hanging above the machine that measured and pumped the drugs. Max stretched out her arm for him to put the port in place and let him get it all sorted to his satisfaction. It was all so routine now, she barely paid attention. Instead she turned to the television that Alec had installed on the wall so she'd have something to watch while she was sitting there. She had a sneaking suspicion it was more for him while he was sitting there too, but whatever.
Max let her eyes wander around the room. The infirmary was always a fairly busy place. Xs were prone to craziness and risk-taking, and they were always wandering in with various injuries from doing stupid things they shouldn't. Beyond that, people would come back from jobs with everything from cuts and bruises to gunshot wounds. In addition to Max's issues, Peterson and the others were dealing with a kid with a broken arm, an X-4 with a gash on his forehead from a construction accident and one of Dix's techies who'd sliced open his hand working on some electronics.
Max focused on the TV when she saw a newscaster break in to the game show that had been playing, along with a wide band across the bottom that read, Breaking News.
Information is still coming in, but it appears there has been an attempt on the president's life. The president has spent the last two days in San Francisco for the trade summit. Armed gunmen entered his hotel suite at the luxury Fair Haven hotel where the president was staying and attempted to harm him. The White House has refused to offer any information, other than to say the president was uninjured, although several members of the Secret Service as well as hotel security were killed.
Sources who were close by are saying the president has been rushed from the hotel and is currently at a secure location while the investigation takes place. Sources also say several members of the so-called transgenics, a group of genetically altered pseudo-humans created by scientists, were seen in the hotel.
The screen changed and flashed up what looked like security footage of Alec and two of Sig's team members walking through the lobby. The visit was too high profile for Alec's own team to go, whose anonymity was more important for their usual missions.
In light of the recent news that the bill to grant citizenship died in committee, speculation is rampant that this was retaliation. On the phone, we have one of the most respected experts on transgenics, Dr. Carolyn Perkins.
Max recognized the geneticist who'd spoken at the hearing. Max had a sneaking suspicion the woman used to work for Manticore. There was no other way she would know so much about transgenics, not to mention how much she'd talked about their fascinating makeup, and how they needed to be protected given the advance in science they represented. Max had absolutely no interest in listening to the woman talk about transgenics again. She'd had plenty of that at the hearing.
"Somebody get me a link to Command," she ordered. At this point, everyone in the infirmary was gathered around the TV. They immediately scattered to comply. "I want to know what's going on now." Max considered grabbing the tubing attached to her and yanking it out, but that wasn't going to fly. She and the babies needed the drugs and supplements she was being given.
As if on cue, the phone on one of the desks rang. Max got up from her chair and pulled her IV stand along with her. She snatched up the receiver. "Max," she bit out. She needed to remain calm or they were going to yell about her blood pressure again. They were always yelling about her blood pressure.
"They're on the plane," Mole growled, "coming in hot." They'd cleared out a runway so they could bring their own little plane in and out of TC. They still had to file flight plans, but it saved them a lot of time and effort.
"What happened?"
"Sig says there was an attempt on the president, and their team managed to stop it. They got the president to a backup team of Secret Service guys, and then bugged out."
"Why are they coming in hot?" What she really wanted to ask was why Sig was the one making the report and not Alec. There was usually only one reason for that to happen and it made her want to throw up.
"Like you don't know?" Mole demanded.
"Alec's hurt," she answered flatly. "We know how bad?"
"Bad enough. Dix sent pages out for a trauma alert. Attack happened well over an hour ago. They just got in range of a working tower where they could call. They're trying to keep him stable 'til they can get him here."
"The news people are already blaming us. You double the guard?"
"This ain't my first rodeo, sister," he grumbled. "Everybody knows we might have trouble coming."
"Good. Keep me updated," she ordered.
"Done. Hand the phone to Peterson," he added. "We're trying to patch him and the guys on the plane together. Maybe he can help if they give some details."
Max held out the phone to Peterson. "Alec's hurt. They're bringing him back on the plane, and need to know what they can do."
Peterson nodded and accepted the phone. "Got it." He paused though and covered the mouthpiece, giving her a look. "Go sit," he ordered. "I promise I will tell you everything, but you need to sit, get your IVs finished and stay calm, ok?"
Max looked back to her chair where Dr. Gupta was already standing, waiting for her to return. She looked around and saw that others were getting a room ready for a potential trauma victim. Almost all of the medical people in TC were geneticists, OB experts or some other sort of specialist. Peterson was their only general medical doctor, but since their arrival, the others with medical training had started helping when injuries came in.
Max moved back to her chair, pulling her IV stand along with her. She sat and turned her attention back to the television while Dr. Gupta checked her pulse. It was the only thing Max could do while she waited. There was too much noise for her to overhear the other side of the phone call with Peterson, who was frowning as he spoke. He closed his eyes, and she supposed he was thinking, or trying to picture what was happening and what could be done.
The news was pulling up video from the hearing. They would get to video from the Jam Pony standoff, and eventually dig up every negative bit of video they had showing transgenics in action. It always amazed her how quickly people could turn on them. It would be fine for a while, and they would convince people they were hard working little weirdos who'd suffered more than their share and just wanted to be left alone. Then one whisper of a rumor would pop up and they were right back where they started.
Dr. Peterson set the phone down and walked straight to her. He squatted near her to be more on eye level. "You ready for this?" he asked.
"Better than worrying about what it might be," she answered.
"He was too close to a door they blew open with explosives. He was close to the blast and some of the debris landed on him as well. He has burns, and a concussion from when the blast knocked him into some furniture. He'd apparently already been shot at that point, but they've got the bleeding under control. The burns are more problematic. Your nerves are hypersensitive, and when damaged, they try to regrow almost immediately. His pain levels are so high, along with everything else, he's going into shock. I've given them some ways to help him, but he's a mess."
Max clasped her hands over her stomach. It pulled at the IV tubing a bit, but she ignored it. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. She wanted to yell, to scream, to hit something, but all she could do was sit in this stupid chair and wait. She had to stay calm. Her babies needed her to stay calm, so that's what she was going to do. Their father was in trouble, and if something horrible happened, Max was all they had. She had to keep it together.
Every other transgenic who was mobile eventually left the infirmary. Some she knew would be heading to guard duty. If a mob formed to come for them, it would be all hands on deck. For the rest, they just couldn't stand to sit there idly, or tolerate the awkwardness of Max sitting there waiting on her husband's arrival.
Finally, Dr. Gupta declared the IV treatments finished. She disconnected the tubing while Max pulled the sticky patch and IV port from her arm. She stood and then hesitated, unsure what to do next. She could go to Command, but then she'd just have to come right back when the plane landed. If she left though, she wouldn't have to sit and stare at the stupid news people as they came up with every horrible thing they could think of to say about the unstable transgenics who had very likely engineered an assassination attempt on the president.
Someone had brought her a radio, so she could keep up to date more easily. "Command, come in," Max said.
"What do you need, Princess. We're kinda busy," Mole groused.
"What's it look like outside?"
"The usual. They're starting to form up with torches and pitchforks."
"How long on the plane?"
"Ten minutes," he answered. "Everybody's set here. Nothing to do but wait. So, we'll handle this mess. You handle your moron husband."
Max just nodded and set the radio down. She'd been monitoring the frequency and knew all of the extra security measures they were putting in place.
Max's eyes were drawn back to the TV when they put up a new banner across the bottom. President to address the nation. Since Max wasn't tethered anymore, she walked to the TV and turned it up.
"Again, if you're just joining us, there has been an assassination attempt by unknown assailants on the president at the Fair Haven hotel where he was staying in San Francisco. The president was unharmed in the attack, and was immediately taken to Travis Air Force Base. There has been no official statement made by anyone in the administration, but we have just learned the president himself is preparing to address the nation. We now go live to Travis Air Force Base."
The screen changed to a very nondescript looking conference room. A podium had been set up along with the obligatory group of flags behind and to one side. Normally there would have been a herd of reporters shuffling and talking before a press conference, but there were no reporters in this case. There was only silence as the president stepped through a doorway and walked to the podium. He looked into the camera directly in front of him. He had a very visible laceration to his forehead that was closed with butterfly bandages to keep the skin together. He looked a little shell-shocked. His suit was smudged and his hair was slightly disheveled. It was the most down to earth and human she'd ever seen a politician look on TV.
"My fellow Americans," he began, "I have decided to address you personally at this time for several reasons. The first is to reassure you all that I am well, and fully capable of continuing my duties to serve this great nation. The second, however, is for a far more important reason. Members of the press have been speculating wildly that transgenics were the culprits in this attempt on my life. That is an absolute falsehood. Not only were they not the cause, the transgenics present at the time of the attack are the only reason I stand before you now.
"After I received news that the bill to grant citizenship to the transgenics had been stopped, to our shame, from going any further, I personally called the leaders of the group and requested a meeting. During that meeting, we had a very frank discussion about the needs of their people. As the meeting was ending, known members of the CSRL, the California Self Rule League, stormed the hotel. Tragically, several members of the Secret Service, as well as brave members of hotel security lost their lives in their efforts to stop them. When I feared I would not survive, it was the transgenics who took charge of my security and got me to safety, while suffering dearly in the process. I owe them my life and I could not respect myself if I did not come before you and immediately repudiate these horrible rumors that they themselves had done this.
"Because of their continued bravery and dedication to this nation, I feel it is my duty to repay them for their service. Since congress has shamefully allowed the issue to lapse, I find it now my privilege to step in. By executive order, every single transgenic will be granted citizenship and have every right accorded to them by the constitution. These men and women were born here. Their nation made them, used them to fight on our behalf, and then tried to hide them, even obliterate them. They have been treated disgracefully, but no more. How many other groups have demanded restitution, money, or demanded apologies, and rightly so? These people have asked for nothing in return for their suffering except a hollowed out husk, a toxic wasteland where they can live in peace. I say we can do better than that. As your leader, I say we must do better than that. In this nation, we judge not by the color of a person's skin, or by oddities of DNA, but by the content of their character. Repeatedly, we have seen the content of their character, and I ask that you stand with me now.
"Thank you, my fellow Americans, and God bless." The president nodded to the camera, and then walked back the way he'd come.
Max stood in front of the TV, completely shocked at what she had just seen. For a second, she thought she must be going nuts. There was no way the president had just done something so… so… she didn't even have the right word. Shocking. Kind. Magnificent. Brave.
The radio in her hand crackled to life. "Plane's on the ground. They're on their way to you."
"Copy that," she replied, shaking off her astonishment.
Outside the infirmary, she heard a shout, and realized it was cheering. She wanted to cheer along with them, and she would, but Alec came first.
The infirmary doors crashed open, and Sig and his team came rushing through, carrying Alec on a blanket between them. There was a strange keening noise, and Max's heart constricted when she realized it was coming from Alec.
Dr. Peterson pointed toward the room that had been set up. Sig and his team changed directions and hoisted Alec onto the table. Immediately, Alec let out a scream that raised the hair on her head. Alec never, ever, showed how much pain he was in if he could help it. He hid it like they all did. He joked, he laughed it off, he downplayed. The scream died away and he was reduced to a quiet sob as the excruciating pain refused to let him be.
Sig and the others quickly exited the room. A few of them were banged up as well, but they stood by and watched as Peterson and several others hurried to do what they could for Alec. Max rushed in as well, but she was careful to stay out of their way. She moved to stand at his head, looking down at him. His eyes were wide with agony, begging her to do something.
"Alec, we're going to help, I promise," she assured him. A mere glance told her that he was badly burned on one side of his body. They said he'd been shot, but he was such a mess she couldn't tell where. The doctors began to cut away his clothes, and started an IV in the arm of his uninjured side. They handed her an oxygen mask and she placed it over his nose and mouth. They'd been prepared for the burns, so they immediately went to work, but they started with pain medication strong enough to take down a rhino. It took a few seconds, but she could tell when it started to kick in. Alec began to calm, and he looked like he could think more clearly.
"Max?"
She looked up at Dr. Peterson. "What?"
"We're going to need you to leave the infirmary."
"What?" she said again. "Why?"
"Because given the extent of the burns, what we need to do is going to be excruciatingly painful. You will not react well. You need to be somewhere else. Do you understand?"
"I can't leave him!" she shouted.
"That reaction right there is why you have to leave." Dr. Peterson got in her face. "You are holding us up, and we don't have time. Go sit with Joshua. Stay calm, and protect your babies. We will help him. I promise you I will call the second you can come back, ok?"
One of the doctors touched Alec's leg and he let out a bloodcurdling scream. Max's immediate reaction was to deck the doctor, but she stopped herself in time. Barely.
Max looked back down at Alec. "I love you," she whispered, and placed a kiss against his sooty, tear-stained cheek. Then she did one of the hardest things she'd ever done. She left.
"What are you doing here?" Mole growled. Command was crowded as everyone who worked there, usually on different shifts, had shown up to help. They were manning computers, radios, phones, and security cameras.
"They kicked me out of the infirmary," Max answered, deadpan. "To help him, they're going to have to hurt him and they're afraid I'll kill one of the doctors."
Mole chomped on his cigar, and finally said, "Fair enough."
"We have a mob forming?"
They all looked up at the screens showing the main areas of TC, the main gates, but mostly along the exterior perimeter in case of any brain child who decided to scale the fence. There were crowds milling around outside the main gates. A few people had the usual signs, but there was a distinct lack of waving them. Apparently, the president's speech had taken the wind out of their sails as he'd intended.
As they watched, the sector police actually showed up. They were in two large personnel carriers. The cops emptied out of the vehicles and started shooing people away from the gates to Terminal City. Since the crowd was already starting to break up, the arrival of the police seemed to hasten their departure.
"Max?"
She turned to see Luke holding out a phone to her. It was one of the main lines into Command.
"It's the president," he said. "You want me to tell him to call back?" he added, completely serious.
Max just held out her hand and took the receiver. "Mr. President?"
"Hello, Max. Is it all right if I call you Max?"
She nodded, although he couldn't see it, of course. It seemed surreal to be speaking to him after just seeing him address the whole country on TV. "Yes, sir. We saw the speech you made. I don't know what to say other than thank you."
"Actually, I called to thank you. I saw what happened to your husband. The bullet he took was meant for me. Even after that, he stayed to barricade that door to give us time to get away. I owe him my life and I saw how badly he was suffering because of it."
"Yes, sir," she said, her throat beginning to close with tears. "They're trying to help him now."
She wanted to be with Alec. She needed to be with him. He was supposed to be happy and healthy and talking to their babies like they could hear everything he was saying. He was supposed to hold her when she was feeling sick, or when she woke up from a nightmare. He wasn't supposed to be alone and screaming in the infirmary.
"I just wanted you to know that I fully planned on that executive order even before this happened. You and your people deserve to be recognized and I'm sorry it's taken this long."
"Thank you," she said again.
"In a few days, I will send a team who will provide you all with birth certificates and social security numbers. With those, you can apply for every bit of ID necessary to function normally. Secretary Gordon also says that his office will be happy to continue issuing permits necessary for your work travel."
"I don't know what to say, sir." She really didn't. Thank you seemed so inadequate. She'd spent her whole life thinking of the government as this big bad group of evil people trying to hunt her and kill her, or drag her back to prison. Yet, here this man was, this leader, giving them their future, free and clear.
"Just let me know if there's anything else I can do. If your husband needs anything, anything at all, it will be arranged."
"Yes, sir, I will," she said, and for the first time, she felt like she really had a Commander in Chief worthy of the title.
The president ended the call, and Max handed the phone back to Luke, feeling a bit stunned. Someone took her arm and guided her to the little side room they had where there were chairs, a TV and a sofa they used for breaks, or cat naps taken during disasters.
"Sit," Mole ordered, and she did. He grabbed a blanket and flapped it open before settling it over her. "We've got this handled. You stay here, and I'll get you the second they say you can go back."
Max felt a tear slide down her cheek and nodded. "Ok."
"And knock that off. Alec's the most stubborn guy I ever met. He's gonna be fine and he'll skin me alive if he finds out we didn't take care of you."
She offered him a watery smile. "Yeah, he will."
Max curled up on the sofa and closed her eyes to block out the images on the TV. She tried not to imagine what Alec was suffering through. She tried not to hear his screams, but they rang in her ears. One of the babies gave her a swift kick and Max rubbed her hands over her belly, soothing them, and soothing herself, too. It helped to know they were in this with her.
Max sat up straighter when she realized Alec was awake. They'd been keeping him sedated for the past two days. It took enough anesthesia that it would have killed a normal person, but it was necessary to keep him down and because of how much pain he was in. They'd starting back off on it, though.
They'd moved her recliner into his room so she could stay with him, but given her firm rules. She would rest, and she would under no circumstances get too upset or she would be escorted out. So far, Max had complied. They promised her Alec was doing better, so she was taking their word for it.
Alec let out a groan. Max stood up. She wasn't her nimble self anymore, so it was more of an awkward lumber, but she hurried to him and grasped his hand on his uninjured side.
"Alec? Can you hear me?"
The monitors beside him that were beating with his heart were racing compared to when she'd nodded off. She realized he was shaking, and leaned closer.
"Alec?"
He clamped his eyes shut and grit his teeth. "Please," he begged. "Hurts. Please."
"I need help!" she shouted. "Somebody get in here!"
Dr. Peterson ran into the room looking frazzled and exhausted. Max knew he'd been awake probably longer than she had. "What is it?"
"He's awake," she said. "He's hurting." Max looked back down at him and she could see that it was taking everything he had not to scream like he had before. "I thought you said he would be better!"
Peterson left the room without a word. Max leaned down and kissed Alec's cheek. "We'll fix it," she whispered. "I know it hurts, but we'll fix it. Just hold on, ok?"
Tears of agony trailed down the sides of his face. "Next time… the president… wants to meet," he bit out, "we say no."
"You might change your mind when you hear what he did," she answered. She needed to distract him. She didn't know how long he'd been awake with nothing to think about but the pain he was in.
"Yeah?"
"Executive order. He made us all citizens. No bargaining with congress, nothing. It's a done deal. You wouldn't believe all the crap on the news saying he's overstepped his bounds and all that, but it doesn't matter. He told everybody you saved him. It was a great speech and you missed it."
"Sorry," he said. The shaking was getting worse, and he was starting to make little pained whining noises, as if the pain was getting the better of his power to control his reaction. "Wish… I'd seen it."
"I'll play it for you when you're better."
"Max," he whispered. "Please. I can't…" He was twisting on the bed, which she knew had to be making it worse. He was bandaged up, but moving the damaged skin was a terrible idea. He rolled toward her onto his uninjured side. He grasped the front of her shirt with his injured hand, but held on, pulling her close, begging her for some sort of relief. Max whispered every bit of nonsense she knew, every soothing phrase, every promise of comfort, none of which made a single bit of difference.
Finally, Dr. Peterson ran back in carrying several syringes. He pushed them into the port on the IV lines attached to Alec to add to the cocktail he was already getting. A long minute later, Alec began to relax. He sighed against her where his face was pressed to her chest.
"Thank you," he muttered, as Max and Dr. Peterson rolled him back flat onto the bed.
"I'm sorry," Peterson said, looking stricken. "We thought you'd be through the worst of it. We were wrong."
"S'ok," Alec mumbled. "M'a slow… learner. Max'll… tell you."
Max rolled her eyes. She brushed her fingers through his hair, waiting until he closed his eyes again and was out.
"We'll keep him sedated for another day or two," Peterson said, as if to himself. "The nerves are re-growing in the damaged flesh and your nerves were made to be hypersensitive. It's making it so much worse."
"You sure that'll be long enough?" she asked. She knew she sounded strident, but there was absolutely no way she was putting Alec through that again.
Peterson ran a hand over his face. "I hope so." He was completely exhausted, and Max tried to calm herself. They were all doing the best they could. They asked a lot of their veterinarian and this wasn't exactly his area of expertise. It wasn't anyone's area of expertise, really, now that Manticore was gone.
Max blew out a slow breath. "Thanks, Doc. We should both get some rest while he's out."
"Yeah," Peterson said absently. "Yeah." He nodded and left, calling for one of the others to take over while he got some sleep.
Max combed her fingers through Alec's hair one last time, then walked back to her recliner chair. She sat and propped her feet up to wait.
More tomorrow…