Roachia 03 Before Dawn Read online

  When BT finished the story, his eyes shifted to the ground, not sure if he wanted to hand the padd over to his friend to read.

  Jim was a few steps ahead of him. "BT, look at me."

  Slowly, BT lifted his face to meet Jim's eyes.

  "You did not willingly give information to the Roaches. We don't even know if you gave them information, period."

  BT quickly typed, /But what if people were hurt by what I told them?/

  "No, BT," Jim stated forcefully. "Whether you told them anything or not, you most certainly are not responsible for anyone the Roaches hurt."

  /But if I gave them informa/...

  "Trust me, kid. You did not hand them information willing. They took it by force."

  For a moment, BT studied Jim. Confusion, pain and fear warred across his face, but Jim thought he saw just a touch of hope. Quickly, BT typed, /How do you know that?/

  Jim gave him a sad smile. "The evidence."

  /Evidence???/

  "Hold out your arm." Hesitantly, BT extended his right arm. Jim took the hand reassuringly into his own. Man, the kid feels like ice. Lightly, Jim ran his finger over a newly-healed scar around BT's wrist. "When we found you, both your wrists were torn up. They had you cuffed and you fought against those cuffs. If you had gone willing with them, you wouldn't have struggled against them." Jim looked up into BT's eyes. "When we brought you in, Sheree said you had not had any food in several days. The Roaches will often try to starve someone to make them talk." Jim gently rubbed the cold hand he was still holding. "Remember how much you hurt when you first woke up? How much you still ache sometimes? That's because the Roaches beat you. They do that to try and break you, to force you to do what they want." Memories of beatings touched the edge of Jim's mind, but he pushed them aside. "All these things point to the fact you were not cooperating. Finally, when they get impatient, they resort to drugs. Remember Sheree telling you how the drugs are still messing up your system?" Reluctantly, BT nodded. Jim then laid gentle fingers on the inside of BT's elbow. "They gave you interrogation drugs. We could see the needle marks on your arm." Jim captured the blue eyes across from him with his own. "Once they gave you that first shot, there was absolutely nothing you could do. You had no control over what you told them, or how you reacted. I know it is hard to accept that, but it is the truth."

  Tears began streaming down the pale face. In the whole time Jim had known him, through headaches, pain, frustration, and excruciating physical therapy, the kid had never shed a tear. Gently rubbing his hand up and down the cold arm, Jim continued, "If you did tell them something, it was under extreme duress. You won't be put in jail, because it was not your fault. No one will hold you responsible. Rafe does not hold you responsible, nor Henri, nor Sheree, nor Joel, nor the Major. And I mostly certainly do not. You did the best you could, and that's all us or anyone else can ask."

  A sob escaped as BT broke eye contact. Jim leaned over and pulled the young man into an embrace. Wrapping his good arm tightly around the larger man's waist, BT buried his face into Jim's sweater, sobbing heavily. Jim slowly began to rock, running his hand up and down the cold back and shoulders. "That's it, kid. Just let it out. Just let it all out."

  As he rocked his friend, Jim carefully listened behind him.

  "We need to get him someplace warmer." That was Sheree's worried tone.

  "Leave them be until he's done crying. He feels safe enough with Jim right now to let go of some of his emotional pain and stress. We need to allow him this time." Jim smiled at Dr. Mike's soft yet confident tones. The man's quiet wisdom had helped him so much after the camps.

  "Where can we take him?" Rafe, ever the practical one, asked.

  "Well, there are a couple possibilities..."

  An hour later

  Jim sat in the Major's chair rubbing BT's shoulder, still amazed they were able to fit a cot in such a tiny office. In one of the few buildings intact and with heat, the Panthers and Sheree decided to place BT there. The thin figure was now curled under a blanket still shivering. After crying out his emotions, the kid had been exhausted. However, residual fear and another blinding headache was keeping him from falling into the sleep he needed. Sheree had gone to get her medical bag, and promised to be back soon.

  Shaking his head, Jim silently berated himself. He should have never let BT go with Katts until he knew what was going on. Every instinct told him this kid was important yet vulnerable. Jim didn't know whether it was due to his mentally connecting the kid to Steve, or the sentinel business, or the fact a man so young had been so important to the Roaches. He just knew he had to do a better job of protecting him, of being there for him. That was the only reason he was here and not out there pounding in the face of the good Dr. Katts.

  Hearing the outer door open, Jim focused his hearing, unconsciously squeezing BT's shoulder to anchor himself.

  "I am not through interrogating that young man!" Jim's jaw clenched as he recognized Dr. Katts' voice.

  Before he could stand up, he heard the Colonel. "Yes, you are. That young man is off-limits to you until I see some orders." Jim glanced down. BT showed no signs of increased stress, so only Jim could hear the men argue.

  "You have no say in the matter, Colonel."

  "But I do." Dr. Mike's quiet yet strong voice overrode the other two men.

  Dr. Katts seemed to be surprised. "What are you doing here, Andrews?"

  "I was asked to work with the young man in question due to my experience with former prisoners. You know that you need official authorization by a physician and a psychiatrist before interrogating someone who was so badly injured and abused. You have neither."

  "He's faking it! He has all of you manipulated into thinking he's some dumb kid needing protection!"

  "I have the medical reports here that say otherwise. Nor did you have the right to threaten him with prison, when you know damn well the drugs given him negate any legal responsibility. You didn't have the right to interrogate him at all without at least two representatives for the young man present."

  "He may have given important information..."

  "Which he can't remember at the moment. All your actions here will be in my report. If you don't leave now, I will personally call Tess Colton and give her my report verbally."

  After a tense pause, Jim heard the door slam behind Katts. This Tess Colton must have a lot of power.

  Unfortunately, the slam was loud enough to disturb BT. The kid jerked, and shivered harder. Jim continued the comforting circles he rubbed on the bony shoulder. "It's okay, BT. You're safe. Are you getting warm now?" The head turned just enough to squint up at Jim and nod. "Head still hurting?" Again a slight nod. The hand worked itself out of the covers, and held up four fingers. Jim sighed. At least it was down from the earlier five fingers.

  The hall door opened again. Jim could pick out Sheree's warm, light tones mixed with Henri's deep baritone. "I think Sheree is here. Will you be okay a couple minutes while I go talk with her?" Eyes closed again, BT nodded. Jim gave his shoulder one last squeeze and stood up.

  Jim quietly shut the office door. The reception area was getting crowded with Sheree, Henri, Dr. Mike, Simon and Pendergrast.

  After giving Jim a searching look, Sheree asked softly. "How is he doing?"

  "Calming down and warming up. He says the headache is at a four, though."

  "Well, I'll see what I can do about that." Jim allowed Sheree to step around him and enter.

  "Guess I am out an office for a while," Banks grumbled, though Jim could see the worry in his eyes.

  "Then let's find some coffee and a quiet place to talk. I haven't finished updating you." The Colonel opened the outer door, and the two senior officers left.

  "How are you doing, Jim?" Henri asked.

  "Okay," Jim replied, rubbing his eyes. "Just wish I could help the kid more."

  Henri shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, Jim, you know when BT was typing out his words for you in the tent?"

  "Yeah."

&
nbsp; "Ah, well, you were reading them from quite a distance. Sheree noticed." Jim looked up at Henri while he continued. "So, I had to tell her about, well, the sentinel stuff."

  Jim sighed. "That's okay. I trust her."

  The corner of Henri's mouth lifted. "Well, she was pretty mad we hadn't told her before this."

  "Oh, hell, Henri. I didn't mean to get you into trouble for keeping secrets."

  "No, that wasn't why she was mad," Henri chuckled. "She understands why it needs to be kept quiet. She was mad because she remembers learning that sentinels react differently than other people to drugs and things. It scared her to think she could have treated you with something that you couldn't handle."

  Jim relaxed. After losing his home, family, and most of his friends, it felt good to know that others still cared what happened to him. That was another reason he wanted to stay close to BT, knowing the kid needed that, too.

  "Well, I'd better join Taggart and Janson on the cleanup crews. We'll stop by later."

  As Henri left, Jim turned to Dr. Mike. "Who called you in on BT's case?"

  Mike smiled. "So you were listening. The Colonel did, since I have worked with you before. Do you mind?"

  "Nah, I trust you. Who's Tess Colton?"

  "She is the boss a couple levels above me. Delightful woman, I just love working for her. But you don't want to get on the wrong side of an argument with her."

  Jim glanced back at the door. "I don't get it, Mike. Why put pressure on the kid?"

  Mike sighed. "Things have been in an uproar since the Sealand attack. Many of our top researchers were killed and their work destroyed. It set us back greatly in development. On top of that, four more of our top researchers have either disappeared or been assassinated, in areas well within what should have been safe. In fact, I'm just as glad I didn't have to contact Tess. Her eldest son disappeared at the same time as one of the researchers. The theory is that Frank witnessed the abduction of Jeff MacGregor and tried to prevent it. Seems that the two have been friends for years. It's like losing two sons for Tess. We've been trying to lighten the load for her."

  "MacGregor," Jim repeated. "Wasn't he the one who came up with the early warning system? And the sonic sea barrier?"

  "Yes, his disappearance is a great loss in among many others. There are rumors flying that someone is leaking information to the Roaches. That has the president and his circle upset, which is why Katts and his kind are getting so aggressive."

  "BT didn't need this, Mike. That kid has been half sick since getting so cold during the attack."

  "I know, I've been reading the reports."

  Jim turned serious eyes to Mike. "What do you think? Will he recover?"

  Mike squeezed Jim's shoulder reassuringly. "I think it is a good possibility." He led Jim to a chair. "What are your impressions of him?"

  "Well, he is extremely stubborn."

  Mike laughed. "Sounds like someone else I know."

  Jim smiled in return. "Yeah, but maybe stubbornness can be a good thing. I suspect that is how he was able to survive. That and a spiritual toughness in him, even if he is pretty fragile physically at the moment."

  "Could be. What else?"

  "I suspect he is very intelligent. I know that sounds strange about a man who has no memory and isn't talking, but I can see it in his eyes. He gets very frustrated sometimes. I suspect part of it is not being able to express himself."

  "That is my impression, too." Mike slipped BT's data padd from the desk. "He left this behind, so I picked it up. Despite being upset, his vocabulary and sentence structure are impressive. I also find it interesting that he says he knew the answers to the questionnaire, and thus didn't know how to respond."

  Puzzlement filled Jim's face. "I didn't get that. How can someone know the answers to a psychological test?"

  "You can if you are familiar with the test and how is it analyzed. Those tests can't be administered to a subject familiar with it. I took a look at the one Katts was using. An undergraduate psychology major would know it."

  "So BT could be a psychology student?"

  "Yes, that is a possibility." Mike quietly studied his former client a moment. "I also find it interesting, in that psychology was one of the subjects required for guides in training."

  Jim rolled his eyes. "Mike, we have no way of knowing if BT is a potential guide. In fact, the odds are against it."

  "We suspect he's Clarian. As a pleasure island, prostitution was big business, group sex was common in the communes, and illegitimate children the norm. He could have guide genes and no one be the wiser. You are a sentinel, yet all we can track is that your grandmother had family in the center."

  "I don't want that kind of pressure on him yet. He's not ready for it."

  "I agree. But how do YOU feel about it?"

  Sighing, Jim shook his head. "I don't know. All I know is that I feel this overwhelming instinct to protect him. To help him get well. That somehow, he's important."

  "From everything I've read, what little there is, one of the main themes is that a sentinel and guide pair are very protective of each other. That they are bonded as brothers, that one's family is the other's."

  "My feelings for him are like what I felt for Steve," Jim admitted.

  "Then let's see where it goes. He needs someone looking out for him now, and maybe something will develop. I'm not any surer about all this than you are, but we should leave the door open."

  "How are we going to keep Katts and his kind from going after BT again?"

  "I have an idea about that."

  Couldn't see. A sharp pain radiated from his trapped leg whenever he tried to move it. Hard edges were poking into his prone body at various places. Above, he could sense the enormous mass weighing heavily on the object protecting him. Yet it was too dark to see any of it. But he had to see, had to find someone. Someone who was very important. "SAM!" he called out, his voice cracking. "SAM!" He struggled to move, hampered by the debris and his immobile leg. A young, pain-filled voice reached his ears. He reached forward, groping blindly for the voice. His hand brushed against flesh, then his fingertips barely curved around another set.

  BT shot up to a sitting position, breathing hard. Instantly, a pair of large, warm hands grasped his shoulders. "Easy, kid, easy. You're safe."

  Blinking the confused panic out of his eyes, BT looked into the face of his friend. His body began to relax. Somehow, he knew he was safe with this man.

  Jim could feel the tension ease out of his young friend. "That's right. Just take it easy." After BT's breathing was back to normal, Jim gently asked, "You have a nightmare?" BT started to nod, then shrugged. Jim's eyes narrowed. Something was going on here. He pulled BT's data padd from off the desk. "Why don't you describe it to me?" BT glanced at him, the fear still evident. "Sometimes it helps to tell someone else about a bad dream. Makes it easier to handle."

  Pausing a moment, BT took the padd and started to type. Jim's head slightly tilted to the side, hearing the outer door open. Recognizing the voices, he smiled. "I think we have company."

  BT's eyes shot up, panic beginning to swirl in them. Jim quickly reassured him. "Good company." His nose twitched. It was amazing how his senses came on-line just being in the younger man's presence. "Maybe it's Rafe with supper. You hungry?" BT nodded. "Okay, finish writing up your dream, and I'll see if Rafe needs help."

  Jim opened the inner door. Rafe was uncovering the trays he had carried, while Dr. Mike was pouring steaming tea from a thermos. Glancing up, Rafe asked, "Is he awake?"

  "Yeah, he'll be out in a moment." Jim took another sniff. "Fish casserole again?"

  "After the bombing, we're lucky to have food, let alone anything with meat," Rafe replied. He smiled as he spotted BT slipping out the door. "Hey kid, feel like eating?" BT nodded, then hesitantly looked at the stranger. "Oh, BT? This is Dr. Mike. He is an old friend of mine and Jim's."

  Mike gave the young man a warm smile, trying to ease his tension. I can see what Jim means ab
out his eyes. Extremely expressive, and still rather spooked at the moment.

  Jim pulled out a chair, and patted the seat. Mike could see BT gather up his courage and walk over. He laid his padd next to the plate and picked up a fork.

  "What are you writing?" Rafe asked curiously, dipping his spoon into the green and blue vegetables.

  BT glanced at Jim. Jim smiled reassuringly. "BT was telling me about the bad dream he just had."

  Carefully concealing his interest, Dr. Mike sipped his tea. Dreams are often the window to a person's subconscious. Or in BT's case, perhaps memories trying to work their way through the drugs and trauma.

  "Would you mind if I read it out loud?" Jim asked.

  BT stirred the mass of noodles on his plate. He knew and trusted Jim and Rafe, and Rafe said the other guy was a friend. Maybe they could help him sort it out. He finally looked up and nodded.

  Jim picked up the padd and read it. He carefully hid his reaction. It sounded like so many others, from people that the Panther unit had dug out of bombed buildings.

  "That does sound scary," Rafe told BT. "Have you had it before?" Dr. Mike hid a smile. Rafe was a veteran of old memories haunting his dreams. He knew what questions to ask.

  BT nodded. Jim studied him a moment. "Did you have them before the bombing?" BT paused, then shook his head.

  Rafe gently smiled at him. "That's not too surprising. That whole tunnel incident was enough to give me nightmares, too." BT shared his smile, comforted by the thought that the older, bigger man had nightmares as well. "Is Sam a girl?" BT shook his head. "A boy, then?" BT nodded.

  Quietly, so as not to undo the young man's current ease, Dr. Mike asked, "You said Sam was young. Were you a lot older than Sam?"

  Brow wrinkled, BT puzzled over the question as Jim returned the padd. /I'm not sure. But I think my voice was changing./

  About 12 to 14, then. If we are guessing his age right, probably not the Clarian invasion. Dr. Mike opened his mouth to ask another question, but Jim beat him to it.