Young Offender, Part 17:
"...and this is Doctor Kaminari. I met him through Gilmore a few years ago. He's someone very sympathetic to your cause, you could say," Kozumi introduced the taller, Italian scientist in a loud suit.
Francoise and the others stared at the man. She could sense the apprehension run through them all. It had been two weeks since Kozumi's initial exam of Ivan. They were shocked when the man had brought an unannounced guest to their very living room; all of them were rather wary of the strange doctor.
"Listen, I know you're protective, but..." Kozumi started.
Ivan stepped forward and finished, "...he's an expert on robotics and electronics. He was starting to develop a rather advanced robot. An AI unit. The Black Ghost is trying to court him, but he's been declining. But he didn't decline before helping my father on a small project. My brain!"
Kaminari looked slightly chagrined and nodded. "I've seen Gamo's work on you, and I think I can help. I thought it was all just theory about psychic enhancements, though. When I knew he was using on living people I left."
"Why help me now? Your research helped did this to me!" Ivan howled in outrage. The coffee table hurled against a wall opposite them with invisible force. Francoise jumped in front of Ivan, clasped his right shoulder, and soundly slapped his face.
"Stop it, right now! You can't take out your anger at your father against someone trying to make amends."
Ivan slowly stopped, panting; his right eye's glow faded rapidly. He nodded and whispered, "I'm sorry, Francoise. I'm so very sorry."
Kaminari stepped forward and said, "Kid, I'm sorry. When I knew how crazy Gamo and the others were, I did leave. Kozumi told me about you and how you were in trouble. He also told me how you have Gilmore hypnotized. I know that crazy idiot would be here helping you if he could. Isaac is a good friend of mine. Instead, you have me. I'm no prize, but I'll do what I can to fix your brain's wiring. I'm better than nothing."
Kozumi stepped forward with a black doctor's bag. "I've got some hormone therapy for you. I took all your samples back, and I think I've developed something that will work. The treatments could take on up to five years to get you balanced, but it's a step in the right direction."
They were silent for several long minutes. It surprised Francoise to see Kaminari's grit as he flung his jacket off, rolled up his sleeves, and said, "Let's get started on loosening that harness on your brain. Maybe it'll fix your nasty temper."
Francoise walked into their rented house, barely containing her trembling. She was glad to see Jet and Albert sitting on the couch playing Spades against Kaminari and Kozumi. Ivan's multiple surgeries had been a three day ordeal, but Kaminari was hoping to wrap it up tomorrow.
"I have some good news!" Francoise said, sitting on the sofa beside Jet. "Thanks to you, I worked up the determination to find a job doing what I was meant to do."
"Doing my laundry doesn't pay much," Jet quipped. She gave him a mock slap on his arm.
"No, silly. I got a job at the local dance studio. I'll be teaching ballet after school and on weekends. The owner of the studio also she says she knows someone who can get me work doing costumes. From there, I can work towards getting an audition in Sydney."
"Hey, that's so great!" Jet exclaimed in enthusiasm and gave her an exaggerated, fraternal hug.
Francoise started talking out the details when she noticed Albert's expression was grave. She looked at him and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. My mind is elsewhere. I'm glad you found something. Congratulations."
Francoise didn't miss Albert's dower tone, but she couldn't confront him in front of the others.
"Well, we better go back to the hotel," Kozumi said, stifling a yawn. After the middle-aged scientists left, Albert turned in. Jet cracked open his flight manual after explaining that Ivan was in a deep sleep. Suddenly, she felt very alone.
"Albert, maybe this isn't a good idea," Ivan whispered as they walked through the glass double-doors. "I'm not... the surgeries aren't finished, and I still can't distinguish my emotions from others'. I know why you and Francoise are doing this to me, but I don't agree with it. Neither does Jet."
"Kozumi says this is the best way to get you acclimated to being around intense emotions."
"I already feel strange. Please, Albert, I don't understand why you insist on it. Besides, I can learn perfectly fine on my own."
"Because, you do need to be around people your own age, well, the age you look so you can get a handle on how to blend in with normal people."
"I have a bad felling about this," Ivan mumbled, and rubbed his bandaged head. /And I don't need my abilities to tell me that./
Albert gave him a wry expression and lead him inside the school's office to register Ivan. The German cyborg claimed Ivan was Hilda's nephew, and now was his ward, since she was deceased. Soon, Ivan was enrolled and starting his first foray into formal education.
The academics were not a problem, at all. It was the other students around him that created his problems. Being new was complicated by being Russian and very intelligent. The other students seemed wary or too wrapped up in their own dramas to pay much attention to Ivan.
He stuck with school, since Francoise had asked it of him, and the two doctors suggested it. Every day, though, it put him through a harsh, emotional battering. He withdrew more into himself and started avoiding Francoise more and more. She had gotten him in this situation so he now felt some anger towards her and he couldn't figure out how someone could feel anger and love toards the same person. How was it possible? Was it possible he felt the same way towards... Fyodr and Erica?
Albert wiped the moisture off his brow with his sleeve. He stretched and walked out of the warehouse after his shift was over. He was surprised to see Jet outside, leaning against the beat-up, old truck he occasionally borrowed from his boss at the airstrip.
"Come to pick me up?" Albert asked with a smirk.
"And to show you this." Jet held a small piece of paper. Albert took it and read that Jet Link was now, officially, a pilot authorized by the Australian government. "Thanks to Captain Cliff helping us with all that government paperwork, I'm legit to work now."
"That's great news, Jet. I knew you could do it. You worked so hard, studying every minute."
"I really surprised myself. I mean, I was never good at school. I'm a drop out... and well..." There was a sudden awkwardness in Jet's attitude. Albert now knew Jet well enough that he could sense shame underneath Jet's confession. Jet shrugged it off and then admitted. "I never finished high school. I left when I was fifteen."
Albert handed Jet back the license, and said with earnestness, "I'm very proud of you."
Albert didn't think he could have shocked the young man any more than by uttering those words. Jet suddenly got awkward all over again. Jet crossed his arms across his stomach, fixed his eyes on the ground, and started toeing a small rock on the pavement.
"Um.. so... I figured since you helped me out... I'd take you for a flight. How about it?"
"Sure. Sounds like fun."
Jet's thrill rose as he guided the small prop plane into the sky. This was his second solo flight, ever. After he set the plane into a cruise, he looked over to Albert. The older man had a faint smile as he watched the Australian landscape below.
"Cool, hun?"
"Yes, very nice. Australia is truly gorgeous," Albert agreed.
"I know. I'm starting to really think of this as home. You know, we're really working things out here. Things are looking up for us."
"Well, I think Francoise isn't so happy with her job, nor is Ivan happy with school."
"Aw..." Jet waved his hand dismissively. "They'll get over it. Especially, since we've really ditched the Black Ghost. We can breath again."
Jet was grateful Albert, usually pessimistic, kept his mouth shut. Instead, he was surprised to see a smile spread across Albert's face. He was usually so stern. "It does seem too good to be true."
"It is true," Jet insisted.
Yana marched out of the hospital wing of the Black Ghost complex and joined the twins; they had waited in the hallway while she interviewed a weakened and confused Erika Gamo.
"Countess?" Castor asked, with a raised eyebrow.
She didn't bother hiding her arrogant expression. "You go find Ember and the oaf. Tell him phase one is about to begin."
"So she knows where 001 is?" Pollux asked.
"Not really, but she gave me a clue in all of her rambling. I won't reveal what I know until we're in the air. Pollux, make sure my plane is ready."
"Just a hint, madam?" Castor asked, a devious smirk crossed both his and Pollux's faces.
"It's below the Equator," she said. "Now, I'll go have a brief talk with my husband. Have the team assembled and ready to fly within the hour."
"Yes, Countess," they chanted and ran off to their separate tasks.
Francoise was exhausted. She'd had a long day and nothing seemed to have worked out right. Several of the girls had been distracted and hadn't paid attention to Francoise during the dance lesson. She had thought teaching would have been a great way to still be involved in ballet, and some days, she did enjoy it.
Most days, it was a reminder that she had been a day away from her dreams of being a Prima Ballerina. It was also a more subtle reminder that she would never have children. At first, she wasn't conscious of it. Slowly, it dawned on her, as she found herself getting less patient with the less serious girls.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, if Jet Link could obtain his dream job and enjoy it, why shouldn't she have hers and find some of her own happiness? She couldn't help irrationally throwing the blame on Jet for inspiring her in the first place, even though she knew that was grossly unfair.
Also, earlier that afternoon, she heard rumors of an audition in Melbourne for a dance troupe. It was frustrating, because she couldn't get there in time, and Albert had hinted that she needed to keep a lower profile than preforming on stage. She reluctantly gave up the idea, but the desire was still in her heart.
She admitted Albert was right, but she begrudged him for saying it out loud. After all, the German man worked extra shifts so Jet could get his pilot's license, why couldn't he be more supportive with her? Only the nebulous fear of the Black Ghost had kept her from confronting him.
The most dreadful thing that happened to her this day was seeing the third returned envelop she had received from Calley; Jean-Paul had disappeared somewhere, and she couldn't go find him. She was stuck in Australia, for now, which only added more resentment towards Albert. Jean-Paul was still her only family; she still desperately missed him, and now, worried about him.
Francoise rubbed her forehead, trying to ward off the headache starting to form. She threw her duffel bag in her bedroom and went to the kitchen. She was further irritated to see Jet hadn't laid the chicken out to thaw.
"Ivan," she called out.
/What is it, Francoise?/
"Where are you?"
/My room. I'm studying./
"Come keep me company. You can do your homework later," she said out loud, while trying to run warm water over the frozen chicken. "By the way, where are Jet and Albert? They should have been home before me."
/They're fine. I sense no distress from them./
"Ivan I'm in no mood. Where are they?"
/I don't know. I don't want to snoop in their heads to find out. I just keep track of their distress levels. But... it would seem they're having fun./
"Fun?!" Francoise's anger spiked. It was like Italy again. Jet not pulling his weight while Albert was caught in some sort of self-introspection. It was too much for Francoise to take right now. Especially, with the stress of the day hanging over her head.
She flung the chicken in the trash can, cleaned up the sink, and yanked open the refrigerator. She fixed herself and Ivan a salad. The boy appeared in the kitchen, which was nothing new for Francoise to witness, now. He had a little more control over his abilities, including minor teleportation. He quickly ate and disappeared, not giving Francoise much conversation. It made her a little sad, because they used to be closer.
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by sounds at the front door. She quietly stood up and peeked into the living-room. Jet flopped down beside Albert. They both were chuckling and looking thoroughly cheerful. Jet threw his arms across the back of the sofa. Albert was slouching, hands clasped across his stomach.
"I had a really good time," Albert said. "Thanks so much."
"Least I could do," Jet said, with a lop-sided smile.
"You still should work on that landing. I thinking you knocked my molar loose," Albert teased, shooting Jet a playful smirk.
Jet snorted in mock disgust. "Hey, next time you ride on the wings. Or, next time I could fly you around, minus the plane."
Albert snickered as Francoise marched into the living-room, crossed her arms, and stared down at them. Jet said, "Hey, Frannie! Good news..."
"Why didn't you set out the chicken, like I asked this morning?"
Jet looked dumbfounded, but then his face slowly worked up a glower. "Sorry, I forgot. Don't bust my chops over it. Just fix something else."
"How about you make your own dinner. For the last time, I'm not your wife," Francoise said.
"Couldn't tell! You nag me like one!"
"You..." she shouted, but Albert jumped up. She whirled on him and said, "And you! I thought you were more responsible. You should call if you were going to be late. You know the situation we're in."
"I'm sorry, Francoise. We didn't mean to worry you."
"Well, Ivan and I have already eaten. You figure it out yourself," she said. Francoise turned, went to her bedroom, and slammed the door. She finally steadied her breathing as she sat stiffly on her bed. It wasn't long before she heard the front door open and close again. She cracked her door open and was dismayed and saddened to see the living room empty.
To be continued.