The thunderstorm that struck that night brought noise, bright flashes, sleeplessness, and finally some relief from the August weather. The morning air felt cleaner, fresher and cooler, though the house was still baked-in stuffy and overwarm. None of the family said much at breakfast, not because they were annoyed with one another, but because they were all so tired. Looking over at his wife, Tem thought Amanda appeared pale and peaked. Some women tried to look pale and peaked, since that was the fashion of the day among the upper class. But Amanda, like Tem's own mother, had never given a thimble about being fashionable, except as required by an undercover assignment. Watching the listless way in which she ate her meal, he became concerned – and a little ashamed of his behavior the day before. All three of them had been working hard yesterday, she doing no less attic cleaning and clearing than her brother. But while he and Jimmy had let their tempers get the better of them and then gone off to take afternoon naps, she had kept right on working. She hadn't gotten any nap. No, she had been the one preparing their meals, putting things in place and doing all the rest of the day's cleaning up besides. And to think that so many people called women the frail sex!

Feeling the fatigue in his own sore muscles and knowing that his less athletic brother-in-law must be feeling the same but too teenage-proud to show it, Tem came to a resolution.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat to get the others' attention. "I am making an Executive Decision!"

"Oh?" Amanda asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Not the lamp!" Jimmy begged.

"No – nothing to do with the lamp," he assured them. "I have decided for our own good, we are all to take it easy today!"

Amanda, who clearly needed a day of rest, opened her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand to forestall any argument. Most of the time the three voted on decisions democratically, but this time he intended to take charge, just as she had yesterday.

"We need to," he said, "for Aunt Kate and Uncle Jeremy's sake as well as our own. I know we all want to help them as much as possible and get them moved in as soon as possible. But we aren't going to help them any by getting ourselves injured or making ourselves sick. I think all of us maybe overdid it yesterday. I know I could use a break and I'm betting you could too. I'm not saying we have to sit around and do nothing, but I think we should give ourselves a light workload at most, at least physically. This is supposed to be our vacation after all, and I can't think of anyone who's earned it more than us."

"That sounds . . . sensible," Amanda said slowly.

And not something you were expecting from a son of Jim West? Tem almost laughed at the thought. But he had a good dollop of his level-headed mother as well as his wild and impulsive father in him, as Amanda ought to know. Too bad he couldn't have shown more of it yesterday.

"I guess," Jimmy shrugged.

Good enough. Tem had been hoping for a more enthusiastic response, but he'd take it, and hopefully they'd all be feeling better as a result.

"So what did you want to do today?" Amanda yawned. Yes, she definitely needed some respite.

"Well," Tem considered, "maybe we could settle for a joint trip to the Federal Building – it has electric fans, by the way." God bless the latest in modern technology! "And then we could drop off just one cartload more of stuff on Wanderer II. After that? We can decide later."

Tem resolved to keep a closer eye on Amanda and make sure she didn't overburden herself again. An early dinner out at a nice Chicago restaurant might be just the ticket. Too bad they'd have to shut all the windows while they were gone instead of taking advantage of the cooler air to let the house refresh. But the attic wasn't fully defanged yet. Not a good time to risk strangers getting in.

"Why the Federal Building?" Jimmy asked. "Didn't you go there yesterday?"

"Sure," he told them. "But I sort of got distracted by other things." He filled them in quickly on the impromptu hand-to-hand combat lessons he'd been asked to give. That earned him a bit more sympathy, and a couple of winces from the other two. "I did manage to get some of the files we were looking for, but probably not all. Besides, one of the State Department officials who was there asked me for some advice, and I wasn't in any shape to give it. I told him you two would be the better ones to consult anyway, whether he thought so or not."

"Whether he thought so or not," Amanda repeated, with a frown. "As in he doesn't want to consult with a woman and a ch . . . younger person," she corrected herself in time. That made Tem wince. The Gordon siblings were two of the most frighteningly competent individuals the Secret Service and the Federal government could have hoped for. But they'd already had plenty of trouble convincing others of that so far. "And what, pray tell, does this State Department official not wish to consult with Jimmy and me about?"

"Security," Tem sighed. Security setups had always been more Artemus Gordon's specialty than Jim West's, and their children followed suit. "The Federal Building is being used to temporarily house a shipment of something called Franconium hydrate that's being transferred to a government lab in Sacramento."

"Franconium hydrate!" Jimmy perked up. "That's dangerous stuff!"

"So I gather," Tem said. "Anyway, he was looking for some advice about security for it, whatever it does."

"It's a chemical derivative of Franconium that can be used to grow these small crystals which when surgically implanted in someone's brain can make them do whatever you want. Turns them sort of into living zombies," Jimmy explained. "Do you remember our Dads' story about Titus Trask and the Cadre?"

"Only vaguely," Tem admitted. He'd have to look up Jimmy's 'story file' on that one.

"I do," Amanda whispered. "It's worse than that hypno-lamp. Much worse!" She shook her head. "And this fellow needs a security system set up for it?"

"Uh, yeah. Just temporarily," Tem muttered. "Or at least some suggestions for one, assuming he'll take them."

"From you, maybe. Probably not from me or Jimmy," she said. "But we'd better try and see what's what down there, and what we can do to make sure the Franconium hydrate remains in safe hands. You'll just have to be our front man again." She sighed with a wan smile. "You certainly have a way of picking our day-off activities, m'love!"

"Sorry," he told them both. "But at least it's not heavy lifting or attic cleaning! And did I mention they have electric fans? And a vendor who sells ice cream right around the street corner?"

"Now you're talking!" Jimmy grinned. Though whether Jimmy's enthusiasm was for electric fans, ice cream, or a dangerous rare chemical, Tem preferred not to speculate . . . .

[WWWWWWWWWWWWWW]

Leave it to Tem West to come up with a really good idea that might potentially mingle with a really bad one, Amanda thought. She agreed with her husband 110 percent that they all needed a rest. She wasn't certain she could take another day like yesterday, and she welcomed the idea of electric fans and ice cream. But taking her teenage brother's mind off of one dangerous scientific object by piquing his interest in something even more dangerous . . . . And Jimmy was interested. At Tem's suggestion, the younger man had recalled for them as much about their fathers' 'Cadre' case as he could, and she'd racked her brain to do the same, though her head wasn't feeling its best this morning. The file box containing Jimmy's transcriptions of their fathers' stories – the closest thing they had this side of the bureau's classified archives in Washington - was back on board Wanderer II. They'd be able to retrieve the relevant envelopes when they got today's cartload of stuff on board the train later on. But they'd already decided to do the stop at the Federal Building along the way first. Given the dangers posed by the Franconium hydrate, that errand had to take precedence.

Amanda thought about what they most needed or ought to bring with them. By mutual agreement, they'd already decided that the cartload would be a light one – no heavy objects. By far less mutual agreement, she and Tem had decided that the lamp, in its two boxes, would be part of that load. Their goal had been to remove dangerous objects from the house, after all, and the lamp certainly qualified. Once on board the train, Amanda planned to have a word with the engineers Cole and Micah about making sure the lamp was put someplace where her brother could not get at it. Jimmy could protest and sulk all he liked, but he was outvoted on this one.

Coming up with impromptu suggestions and maybe even equipment to protect a rare and perilous chemical was quite another matter. Tem didn't need to say anything more about the State Department official or his attitudes – she'd encountered plenty of the type. She'd have to listen and observe what she could, then make her recommendations to Tem, who at least would be listened to. She herself wasn't even welcome to enter some sections of the grand building on account of her sex. It was small consolation to know that Tem was just as annoyed with this state of affairs. And as to how sixteen year-old Jimmy might be treated . . . .

might be treated . . . .

might be treated . . . .

Amanda reached out and used her hand to brace herself against the kitchen counter she'd been standing near. For just a moment she'd felt dizzy. What on earth had caused that? She shook her head to try and clear it, but that technique didn't work as well as she would have liked. Could she be coming down with something? She hoped not. Her or one of the other two getting sick was the last thing they needed right now – and the last thing Aunt Kate or Uncle Jeremy needed too. Tem had been right about that. Maybe it was just fatigue, or yesterday's heat. Still so warm inside. Maybe she needed to get some fresh air. On less-than-steady legs, she made her way out to that familiar, beloved front porch with the wide wooden swing bench that she'd spent so much time growing up on. She sank down onto the bench, closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of the storm-cooled air. She hoped this was enough to cure her ills. She couldn't have had her eyes shut for more than a few seconds when she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder, and heard the familiar voice that went with it.

"'manda? Are you all right?"

Tem sounded concerned for some reason.

"Yes," she lied. "A little tired, that's all."

"Look, if you're not feeling up to going into Chicago, we can-"

"No." She put a hand on his arm and gazed up. "I'll be fine. And protecting that chemical is important. Besides, I was rather looking forward to the ice cream!" She smiled. "So who's buying?"

"I am, of course," he grinned back. "You think I don't know you're your father's daughter?"

They both had a small laugh at that, remembering her father's famous (or infamous) habit of sticking James West with the tab for tips during the men's younger days. Amanda wrapped one finger around a loose strand of her curly dark hair – another inherited trait from Artemus Gordon. Amanda's head did feel a little clearer as she sat up straight and once more reassured her worried husband. She did her best to reassure herself too. It was all right. The lighter day's workload and cooler air would do her a world of good, and she'd be feeling all better tomorrow. She waited until Tem had gone back to loading the horse cart to allow herself a frown and a moment of doubt.

I will be fine – won't I?

[WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW]

Ice cream!

Jimmy hadn't had any ice cream since . . . since forever, he decided, which meant at least three weeks ago! A rare treat indeed, rarer than in his childhood, which was even more forever ago. If Tem and his sister were buying, he supposed he could forgive them for some things. Not about taking the lamp away but, well, he'd be willing to forgive them for something or other else when he figured out what that was. In the future.

As for the Franconium hydrate, Jimmy would be fascinated to learn what the California lab's uses for it were. And to think that the stuff was right here in Chicago! Exciting, but sort of terrifying too. He trusted that the scientists were not going to use the substance to grow mind control crystals that could explode inside brains and kill people with the tweet of a whistle. Ick. Jimmy remembered that bedtime story more vividly than most because it had given him nightmares, and hadn't his Mom lectured his Dad about that afterwards? Jimmy had needed to wheedle for three straight evenings after before Dad would tell him another one of those special, true bedtime tales. But just the thought of how close Uncle Jim had come to getting one of those Franconium crystals surgically implanted in his brain still gave Jimmy the shivers. Thank heaven Jimmy's Dad had been such a competent sneak!

Anyway, that was neither here nor there now. Titus Trask was long dead and gone and a person would have to have some other form of brain damage to want to copy his crimes. Obviously, the transport of the Franconium hydrate meant that some other exciting new applications for the derivative had been discovered, and he, James Ulysses Gordon, might be in on the inside scoop! That was as thrilling as the other sort of scoop he anticipated getting later on. Maybe even with Sundae sauce and whipped cream. His day might be looking up after all.

If only he could get Mandy to stop treating him like a child . . . .

Jimmy was helping to load the horse cart, doing his very best to look sullen and mature while contemplating the day ahead when a tap on the shoulder forced his train of thought over onto the siding. It was Tem. Well, if his bossy brother-in-law thought Jimmy was going to overlook being outvoted . . . .

Jimmy turned around, trying very hard to project Resentment with a capital R on his face. He might have succeeded, but Tem's own expression made him swallow that fast. Their fearless leader was looking Worried with a capital W. That didn't happen too often, and when it did, it always meant something bad, as in worse than ice cream place being closed bad. Tem hadn't looked concerned this morning when he'd been talking about Franconium hydrate and not remembering the Cadre story. But he sure looked fretful about something now.

"Listen," Tem said, "I know we all got a little hot under the collar yesterday, but I want you and I to be on our best behavior today. I don't think your sister's feeling well and I want her to take it real easy, okay? Not force her to referee us so much."

Ha! As if anyone could stop Mandy from refereeing everything under the sun! She was made to be bossy, just like Grandma Pru. Thinking that, though, made Jimmy feel guilty. Grandma Pru had died when he was only seven and she'd always been nice to him, well mostly. But Mandy . . . .

"I mean it, Jimmy," Tem said.

Drat it – it wasn't bad enough that Mandy had the ability to read his mind, now Tem was picking it up too?

"You've got to be kidding me," Jimmy murmured, noticing how low Tem was keeping his voice. "Mandy's never been sick a day in her life! Well, hardly ever. Not like me." He didn't try to hide his jealousy.

Tem's face and manner said that he was having none of it. But what brought back the little prickle of alarm to Jimmy was the fact that his brother-in-law really did look worried. Tem nodded back to the Gordon house front porch where Jimmy noticed for the first time his big sister sitting on the bench swing and looking a little . . . peculiar.

"I've known her my whole life," Tem reminded him. "She thinks she's fooling me. She isn't. So let's just do our best to make things as easy as possible, all right? I – I promise I'll try to hold my temper a bit better if you'll do this for me. For her. Please."

Oh, jeepers.

Jimmy nodded.

Now he was starting to feel worried. Was it actually possible for Mandy to be ill? He never would have thought so. His sister – the grizzly bear in human form ill? The same woman who took on and took down deadly criminals with a whack of her parasol? Okay, it was kind of a tricky parasol, but still . . . .

What if it was possible?

Tem went back to packing and fetching things for the cart, but now that Jimmy was paying more attention, he saw how his brother-in-law was keeping an eye on Mandy. And Mandy didn't appear alert enough to notice. That wasn't like her at all either.

Jimmy shivered.

It was true.

Something was wrong.

How could he have been so unobservant? What if this was a, you know, bad something wrong?

It couldn't be!

It couldn't . . . .

Mom and Dad were gone.

Uncle Jim and Aunt Adele were gone.

Jimmy didn't have much more family left to lose.

And he'd been fantasizing about having ice cream? A colder reality was smacking him square in the face.

Yes, he was going to be nicer to Mandy today. Because she just had to get better. She had to. And hadn't he resolved to forgive her and Tem for some unspecified future something?

Mandy had to get better, because her not getting better was the one thing he really might not be able to forgive her for – or forgive himself. From today forward, he was going to be a nicer person. More considerate. Less resentful. Resentments were for babies. He, James Ulysses Gordon was an adult, almost. He was turning over a new leaf, starting today, and he was doing it for Mandy and Tem. He'd be the best, most mature James Ulysses Gordon he could possibly be.

So there!