Young Offender, Part 36:

"Oh, Jet, your spelling is not so good, but you're a natural at grammar. It must be the Italian you grew up with. Usually, it's the other way with English speakers," Francoise said, smiling at him weakly. She handed back a pad of paper and pen to where Jet sat on the edge of her bed.

It was a testament to the charm Jet could muster up that he was able to get more paper and pens from a nurse, in spite of his jaw being wired shut. Francoise suspected the woman was tired of cleaning the walls of German and English profanity, as well.

He took the paper and frowned at her corrections to his French paragraphs. Three days ago he had bugged Francoise into teaching him how to write and read in French. She had been exhausted from the constant medication they plied her with, but she needed companionship more than sleep. For once, since she'd known Jet, there had been no arguments; he was consistently respectful.

He would still get frustrated when he would get things wrong, but he would get his patience back and keep trying until he got things right. He still couldn't talk to her, but she had grown to know Jet well enough to know he wasn't the same person. His changes had inspired within her more tolerance and concern for him.

The only disruption in Jet's newfound composure were the three times Francoise tried to broach the subject of Albert. Each time he'd pace and adopt a surly, aggressive attitude. It'd then take hours for Francoise to coax him back to calm, so she stopped trying to talk about her concerns over Albert with Jet. She could tell Jet was still utterly inconsolable about Albert, but at least the New Yorker was trying to keep busy.

A noise from down the hallway startled her. She reached out and shook Jet's arm; she then nodded towards the door. He nodded back in understanding as his eyes narrowed. He jammed the paper away under Francoise's pillow and took up a defensive, closed fisted stance beside her bed.

"Wait, it's..." Before she could finish, the door slid back. There were two guards flanking Albert. He was now wearing their green uniform, and Francoise could see his legs and arm were restored. Jet looked utterly shocked; it was what Francoise was feeling right now, too.

Albert walked in and gave Jet a lopsided smile and said, "I'm fine, Jet. I promise things are okay now."

Albert tugged Jet over to Francoise's bedside and asked, "How are you doing?"

"We're fine, but how about you?" she answered.

She didn't miss the bitterness in his eyes in his arctic blue eyes. "They've changed me."

Jet snatched the paper and pen up. He scrawled something, pen in a balled up fist, and handed it to Albert. Francoise watched Albert's eyebrows shoot up and then a warm grin appeared. "Haphazard French now? To answer your question, as far as I can decipher, they replaced my shoulder and thighs with artificial flesh, but that's not the important part."

He set aside the paper and yanked up the sleeve to reveal his right wrist. A small hole was there; Francoise could tell it looked as if there were a piece missing because there seemed to be contacts on opposing sides. Just like a battery would fit.

"When I concentrate, I can see extreme heat. Radiation?" she asked.

"They've replaced the ballistics with a laser system. I no longer need to find and have bullets, instead I need a power supply for my whole weapon's system. My body can recharge the whole thing, so I'm more self-sufficient in the long term. They've removed it for now, because I could easily melt those doors with it."

"What does this mean?" Francoise asked.

"It means I'm a more efficient killer," Albert said gravely. She shivered, but it was Jet that reached out to lay his hand on Albert's right shoulder. The German man shrugged off Jet's hand and refused to look at the younger man. Albert began to pace back and forth, now looking thoughtful.

Albert glanced at Francoise and said to her, "When there is an opening, you and Jet need to leave. I'm going to stay to find Ivan."

"You know they're listening in?" she asked.

"Yes, but I found they're rather arrogant. They aren't watching us all the time."

"But..."

He paused and whirled on Francoise, flinging his left hand out, "Someone has to help him. I overheard they're putting him through surgery as well. What if they do remove his ability to feel or have any free will of his own?"

"We all stay together and leave together," Francoise insisted, blocking Albert from continued pacing.

"Not this time!" Albert shouted back. "Do as I say!"

"You don't own us! You can't usurp our choices like they do!" Francoise shouted back, balling up her hands while fighting off tears of anger.

"Enough! It's settled," Albert said, turning his back to her and walking away. Francoise gasped as Jet leaped in font of Albert and landed a solid, hard punch on the German's jaw. Albert went tumbling backwards and fell on his rump.

Jet was furious; he waved Albert to his feet. Albert slowly stood, then wiped the corner of his mouth in shock. He was leaking a little rusty colored liquid now. Jet balled up his fists, ready to fight. Albert's body tensed up as well.

"No! Please don't fight. It not right!" Francoise's hands flew to her lips as she watched in horror.

Jet threw another rapid punch. It landed on Albert's left eye, but he only staggered back a few steps this time. Jet threw a left towards Albert's stomach. He was shocked, and so was Francoise, when Albert's hand shot out and was able to grab Jet's wrist. Albert leveraged the shock and yanked Jet towards him.

"Let him go, Albert! Please stop fighting, you two! Please..." she wailed, as tears blurred her vision. She wrung her hands painfully tight.

Albert took Jet off balance, turned him around, and clenched Jet to his chest. Jet's feet lashed out. Albert fought to keep Jet's arms at his sides. He held Jet closer, pressing his chest to Jet's back.

Jet grew hysterical, thrashing his head around and trying to scream against his sealed teeth. Albert struggled to get the taller, younger man over to a bed and penned down. Jet continued his frantic struggled, to which, Albert stubbornly restrained him.

"Hush! Calm down!" Albert shouted over and over in English. Jet's attempted screams were bestial and struck a primitive fright deep in the pit of Francoise's stomach. What was worse, she could smell the small traces artificial blood from both of them. She sunk to her knees and endeavored to block out Albert and Jet's fight.

Time blurred as Francoise sat on the cold, tiled floor, sobbing. Everything turned into a surreal nightmare as the odors of bleach and the humidity of the outside rainstorm were the only pieces of information she allowed into her awareness.

Gradually, the humid pressure eased off of her skin's enhanced sensors, and Francoise groaned as sunlight appeared gold and red through her eyelids. She forced herself to sit up and opened her eyes. Francoise looked over towards where soft German was being murmured. Her eyes focused on Albert's bed as she quietly got to her feet.

Albert sat beside Jet, metallic hand firmly grasping Jet's shoulder. Jet breathed evenly, face buried against a pillow. Francoise walked over and saw Albert's face was bruised in the morning light.

Albert met her eyes and gave her a reassuring smile. He pulled blankets over Jet's shoulders and brush back some stray, scarlet hair. Albert walked over to the window and leaned his left shoulder against the edge. Francoise took in Albert's closed off body language when he crossed his arms over his chest; his face now grim.

"What a temper," Albert said. "We have to get him out of here soon; they're starving him. It's making it hard for him to think rationally anymore."

"I know." She took a deep breath.

"We'll stay together," Albert finally said, only after casting a long glance at Jet. Francoise reached out and laid her hand on Albert's shoulder. He looked at her with a baffled expression.

"Thank you," she said softly, but with earnest. He put his arm around her shoulder and drew her close.

"Just don't sic him on me again."

She gave a gentle laugh. "What about Ivan?"

"I don't know, but hopefully he'll try to make contact soon and then we can make plans. It won't be long before they try to separate us."

"We have to leave before that happens. We need to support each other."

Albert nodded and took a deep breath. They turned and watched the morning sun change the tropical island's surrounding water change into a glistening jewel. All hints of last night's storm had faded away.

Ivan screamed and lashed out, shaking the entire mindscape around him violently. He could barely draw breath before the emotional assault ceased. He collapsed to his knees and looked up, fighting to take in large gulps of breath. He pounded his fist on the ground and shook his head.

"Why can't I get control over my empathy?"

"Emotions are difficult to deal with. I've known others with our talents who couldn't get a firm hold on their empathy," Katharina answered.

Ivan sat down and drew his knees up so he could rest his elbows on them. She sunk down beside him and said, "It takes time to develop control over each manifestation. It's surprising you developed this much power so quickly. I noticed that you have the least control when thinking of the other cyborgs."

"They've been my family for almost two years."

"What a wonderful thing family is," Katharine mused wistfully.

Ivan overcame a little trepidation and asked, "Didn't you ever want a family of your own?"

"I had a family of my own at one time."

"What? When? Who?" Ivan was shocked. He always assumed his aunt was a spinster. She was always quiet and stayed in the shadows until insanity set in. As Ivan recalled, there was always a deep melancholy that clung to her.

His rapid questions caused her to laugh and shake her head. There was now a heaviness in her eyes; it was that same melancholy he remembered. There was a subtle rumbling from the sky. Ivan was dismayed to see sluggish raindrops fall from the sky; he held out his hand to see they were like tiny, liquid opals. Each fell through the cracks lacing the stormy sky. The same oozed up from the cracks in the flagstone; even the tower bled small rivers of opal.

"What's happening, Auntie?"

He stood and a wave of vertigo hit. Katharina leaped up and supported him, his joints and muscles felt on fire. To him it made no sense, because he was still incorporeal. He shouldn't be feeling really pain, just echoes of it from mental combat and exertion.

"Calm down, my darling," she said, leading him into the broken-down tower. She helped him lean next to the fireplace as he tried to catch his breath.

"What's going on?"

"You've changed. On the outside. They have been working on your body."

Ivan shook off his confusion and held out his hand. He picked up several pieces of mirror with his mind and pressed them to a stone wall. He looked carefully at his reflected image; he didn't look different than being a fourteen year old boy in a coma. He started to dread the changes they were making if he couldn't see them.

He looked at his aunt's reflection over his shoulder. She was shielding her eyes with her arm; Ivan could sense her anxiety over the mirror. He turned to look at her just as she flung her arm out, sending mirror shards flying with her telekinesis.

"Why do mirrors still cause you discomfort? You no longer seem to be suffering from insanity."

"Because reflective surfaces talk to you when you have precognition... they whisper... just low enough to not hear... to frustrate. Mirrors whisper lies and truths... and they tell you to do all sorts of evil things, like... cut yourself..." She clenched her lips and shook her head vigorously. Ivan knew she wouldn't reveal too many secrets about the final ability and it's curses. She had already made that abundantly clear.

"Wasn't there a way to help prevent it? To keep from developing the final ability?"

"Prevent it? I did it to myself," she admitted, lowing her arm from her soft, brown eyes.

"What?"

"Instead of waiting for it to come naturally, I forced my mind to develop it early."

"Why would you do such a horrible thing? Every psychic knows that precognition and insanity come together. It's to be avoided. Most are never powerful to achieve that level anyway."

"I did it because of Sam."

"You never did tell me about him. I mean you mentioned him once, but I could tell he was important to you."

"He was caught spying by a tenacious and treacherous KGB government psychic. He was a very powerful telepath that had a high level of mind control. He was a very talented American psychic posing as an ambassador's secretary. That's how we met. It was at a government hosted cocktail party."

"You were in love with him, weren't you?" Ivan asked, watching his aunt take a seat on the fireplace hearth. He sat beside her, intrigued, when she nodded.

"Yes, it was a few years before you were born. We were going to leave Moscow and elope, but a government psychic got to him first. That government psychic was your mother; she was still KGB at that time. I felt so guilty; if only I had foreseen what was going to happen to him.

"I kept thinking I could have prevented his death. And then, a few days after he was executed I found out I was pregnant. I was terrified for my baby because I felt there was something wrong with him. I just wanted to do what was best for the baby, but I had no guidance."

"I never knew I have a cousin."

"Had. He passed away a year after I had him. He had a condition known as hydrocephalus. Oh your father worked so hard to save him, but... he was too far gone. Your father was so determined, but there was nothing he could do for all of his genius. After my baby died, it was too late for me. The KGB knew about everything I was doing to leave with Sam, and that I was starting to manifest the final ability. I had prodded my precognition to such a level I couldn't control myself any longer.

"Your mother protected me for a very long time. She has always been my loyal, older sister, but she had very little choice but to commit me when our espionage handler ordered it. She was pregnant herself for the first and only time and our handler threatened to have you terminated. She had thought she was barren so you're arrival meant so much to her. Your parents and I agreed that you were much more valuable than my freedom."

"It's hard for me to imagine them being compassionate to you or your baby," Ivan said feeling sick at the idea of Erika having a speck of motherly instincts. It was not what he could believe, it was something he didn't even want to believe.

"That's why I asked for you to show them some mercy. Soon I'll be gone, and you'll be going back to your body."

Ivan jumped to his feet and shook his head. "No! I won't allow it. I'll rebuild your mind. I can do it. Just watch! I will do it!"

"No! You mustn't," she pleaded, but Ivan crouched down and put his palm on the flagstone. He summoned energy together and then unleashed it. A sudden jolt traveled up his arm, and he was flung backwards. Katharina's mindscape shuddered, like an earthquake, and then quelled. She helped him sit upright and hugged him tightly.

He started sobbing and clung to her. This was so new to him! Tears! When he finally calmed down, all that remained was guilt and desperation.

"I can't save you, can I? Just like you couldn't save Sam or your son?"

"No. It is final."

"Just tell me what your son's name was," Ivan asked forlorn.

"Boris. His name was Boris Nemtsov. His name would have been Barrin Houston if I would have succeeded in making my dreams come true."

To be continued.

The following is from WingedPanther73's blog:

Well, I pestered Sybil into watching it [Legend of the Super Galaxy] with me. Here's my rough analysis.
1) The characterization is roughly on par with what I've seen from Suethors, only not as good.
2) When attempting to avoid plot holes, don't start by constructing the plot out of a doily cloth.
3) When attempting to write a fan movie, don't base your characters off all the information you can fit on a 3x5 inch notecard.
4) Cold popcorn's not as good as warm popcorn. (OK, it started out warm, but we didn't eat it fast enough)
5) When did G. Junior get so talkative?
6) When did Ivan forget how to kick ass?
7) When did Joe learn how to inspire trust?
8) When did GB gain that half-assed accent? You can't do Shakespeare with a bad Irish accent.
9) When reviewing the source material, don't stop after they defeat the electricity twins. (I'm not sure they got as far as 0012 and 0013)
10) Muenster cheese makes a better model for a coherent plot than baby swiss cheese.
11) Mourning for a lost lover takes longer than 5 seconds.
12) Since when do lasers act like nerve gas?
13) If a guy who is holding a single hostage is shooting scores of your men, wouldn't you shoot the f'ing hostage?
14) If your civilization got devastated by an alien attack, why would you forget how to use advanced tools and suddenly become masters of the bow and arrow... when there's nothing to hunt?
15) Why can't the psychic who can project an image of herself all over the place and teleport people around trash the robot keeping her captive?
16) When bombarding a planet with weapons that level everything, how do you get erect ruins?
17) When a powerful psychic is looking for someone to father her child, you'd think she'd avoid the STERILE ALIEN CYBORG.
18) Speaking of psychic, since when does being psychic turn your hair purple, and give you better cloths than the rest of your civilization?
19) Why is Ivan the only psychic who can't teleport?
20) When drawing eyes, what would possess you to make them pop further out of your skull than your big bushy bangs? [Sybil's note: he's referring to Ivan's creepy eyes in the movie. They did draw him very strange.]

I think that'll do for now :)