This story contains some erotic and violent situations. The violence, and sexual material, for that matter, are not gratuitous. They are part of the story. If this is illegal where you reside, or you are not of legal age, read no further! Otherwise, enjoy. All work remains the property of the owner, and is printed on this web site, and its authorized mirrors/affiliates by permission of the author. Any other printing, distribution, etc. is prohibited.
I'd like to thank Ed once more for his work in proofing this.
Wreckers Chapter 8 - Over The Corpses of Billions
The blackness wrapped Justin inside it, absorbing his tears. He couldn't stop crying, and great sobs wracked him, as he grieved over the parts of him that were dead. An eternity passed, but his grief never lessened. This is what came of letting love into his heart. He should have known better.
He didn't know how long he'd lain there, in this black void, but as the grief finally ebbed in him, memory returned.
London, hundreds dead.
Paris, maybe as many as a million.
Rome, Istanbul, Jerusalem, Sydney, the names rolled through his brain, and guilt took its turn running through him. Millions dead in that moment he'd lost control, let his emotions rule him. 'Never Again,' he promised.
But why never again? Why didn't he just end it here? He'd killed millions of innocents, how many he prayed to never know. Suicide. Something he'd thought about, but never tried. He was too much a coward to face the question of the afterlife. But what did it matter now? Maybe he could be with his two loves again in some fairy tale heaven.
'No!' he thought. This was life, not some fairy tale. They were gone, and he was no more ready now to face that great unknown than he had been five years ago or ten. But what now?
A flicker of thought, and the void was gone. Justin found himself standing where last he remembered, at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial. Washington, D.C. It was early morning, the sun trying to reach through a misty autumn morning.
Autumn?
Confusion swarmed over him as he realized that more time had passed than he thought. It was definitely cool, and the trees he could see reflected autumn. Had he really been out of it that long? His eyes snapped back to the trees he had looked at, and after staring for a while, he looked around at the rest of the city he could see. It had the look of abandonment, disuse that he'd seen in deserted parts of Phoenix after the Event.
While he stood there, looking, he couldn't see any people, just a few animals grazing at the overgrown grass around the memorial park. Reaching out with his mind, he couldn't feel any other human beings within the limits of the city. Numbly he sat down on the steps, wondering at the change, and wondered what else had changed.
The base. If he tried to go back to the base, he wasn't sure what he'd find. Would they be gone? Would the strangers from across the ocean be there, in charge? What was happening? What HAD happened? The image of the twins popped back into his head, dead on a hill in San Francisco. Grief welled up, closing his throat, eyes leaking tears, shoulders shaking with sobs that couldn't get past his closed throat.
Around him, the ground starting shaking in time to his sobs. It took him a few minutes to realize what was happening around him, but a piece of the memorial above him fell to the ground and bounced down the steps, hitting him in the back. It bounced off of him, landing yards away, but the impact returned him to his senses. "Oh, GODS!" escaped his lips as he realized that those hills in San Francisco had been shuddering like that. What had he done?
Sitting on the steps, with his knees drawn up to his chest, Justin buried his head under his curled arms, and wept, determined to grieve without shaking the earth around him. The void seeped back in, and Justin let himself start to drift off into it when he felt a change around him.
Three presences made themselves known on the edge of his mind. One was very familiar, and two he didn't know..but they felt like he should. Lifting his head, dreading what he'd see, Justin looked through his tear-stained eyes at the three standing in front of him.
At first, his vision was so blurred from the tears that he could only make out a blur of three figures. Through the blur, he could make out two tall figures standing on each side of a shorter figure. White pants and boots, and pale blue shirts and heads topped by golden blond hair brought back the memory of his first sight of Jason and Curtis, standing next to David. A fresh surge of grief swelled in him, and he clamped down on it, pushing it aside.
As his vision became more focused, his eyes centered on the shorter, dark haired man standing in the middle, and the grief raged for a moment out of control. The hair was longer, dark bangs touching the eyes, and there were twin streaks of grey at each temple, but it was David Baxter standing there. As his heart did leaps inside his chest, Justin turned his clearer vision on the two blond haired people at David's side.
It was obvious all three were wearing uniforms of some type. David's shirt was a darker blue, but the two blonds had shirts, no, they weren't cut right to be called shirts, they looked like tunics out of the middle ages, and they were almost a powder blue. All three wore tight fitting white pants, and low-cut boots. On the left chest of the tunics was an emblem, a blue globe held in cupped hands. The blonds had an open book on top of the globe, while David's had a golden sunburst.
His mind told him that all three had the ability, but his eyes told him the one on the left was a female. Both the blonds were young, about 18. At least they no longer reminded him of the twins. They were too big-boned. Instead they reminded him, of...himself and his sister when they were at that age.
While he had stared at them, they had been staring at him. David's face held a look of shock, mouth hanging open. The two kids at David's side had a look of amazement on their faces, and their eyes blazed with happiness.
"See!" the girl said, her voice a beautiful alto. "I told you that it was him causing the tremors."
"Wow!" the boy said, in a deeper bass, "I knew it was him as soon as I felt it, but I still don't believe it!"
As Justin sat there on those steps, staring at them, the shock on David's face melted away, to be replaced with a mixture of sadness and joy. Stumbling, he lurched towards Justin and collapsed on him, wrapping the man in his arms, letting tears flow for the first time in years.
David's tears set Justin's own off again, and this time the grief would not be shrugged aside, and consumed all of Justin's being as David's strong arms wrapped him in safety and comfort. The two blond kids just stood there next to each other, each wrapping an arm around the waist of the other. Tears shone in their eyes, but gentle smiles curved their lips upward.
Hours passed as Justin cried himself out, and David joined him in shedding tears. When the grief finally subsided to a bearable level, Justin pushed David back slightly, to look in his eyes, wanting to know what the man was thinking. Sensing the grief in Justin subside, David smiled gently down at Justin, and standing up himself, pulled Justin to his feet.
"Hon, there's two people here you should meet," David said aloud, moving around behind Justin, resting his hands on the man's shoulders, "Justin, I want you to meet Erica and Tad. Kids, this is your dad."
Startlement sprang from every pore of Justin's body at David's words, but he kenw they were true as soon as he heard them. His kids, but they were grown up! Yesterday they'd been cute little three year olds, listening to some silly story he told. Squealing aloud, they cut off his rambling thoughts with squeals of joy and rushed him to wrap their arms around him.
"We knew you weren't dead!" Tad shouted.
"We love you!" Erica murmured in his ear, in contrast to Tad.
The aching loneliness in his head eased a little as they opened their minds and slid into an easy rapport with him. In silence, with their arms wrapped around him, David and his kids shared with him all that happened while he was lost in the void.
David was shocked when Alan had reappeared so soon after leaving. Just yesterday he'd been sent to investigate reports of an unknown ship off the coast of Virginia. There weren't any Navy ships in the area, so Command had sent an urgent order for someone with teleporting abilities to check out the report. Next to Jaz, Alan was the most powerful person left on the base, so he'd been sent less than two hours after Justin had departed.
David was just happy that Henry was here. His lover had shown up at the base unexpectedly to talk to the twins, and had sent a trainee to fetch them (they were teaching a class), while they waited in a conference room. Strangely, Henry hadn't sent for either him or Captain Kiles, but David always knew when Henry was in the area.
He'd just barely had time to hug Henry, and whisper "I love you" when Alan Mills had appeared out of thin air. Both men turned to stare at the man, but before anyone could say anything, Justin appeared. One look at the man's handsome face said something was wrong.
Tears streaked down a face covered in dust, and every muscle in his body shook as if they were being torn apart by grief, or anger. A once white t-shirt hung in near tatters from his powerful frame, and the khaki shorts were covered in black soot. But it was the eyes that caused David's voice to catch in his throat. They were absolutely flat, but something raged deep inside like the fires of madness. Worry emanated perceptibly from Henry as both men turned to their strongest officer.
Before anyone could do anything, Alan disappeared, a look of pure fear on his face. Just as quickly, Justin also disappeared. While David stood there flabbergasted, scared at what could have happened, the young trainee who had been sent to fetch the twins ran into the conference room.
"Sir!" the kid's adolescent voice rang in the room, cracking as he continued, "Colonel, sir! The twins, they're gone."
The instant the kid said it, David knew it was true, and that obviously Lt. Colonel Alan Mills had something to do with it. He only prayed that not too many innocent people died before Justin ripped the bastard apart.
While Henry interrogated the youngster about the twins' disappearance, David walked out into the corridor, wondering what else was going to go wrong, and what they could do about it. This was a disaster in more ways than one. The figure of Colonel Burns walking down the passageway only confirmed that it was just going to get worse from here.
"Colonel Sells!" the man's voice did amazing things in conveying Burns' contempt for Henry. "Command is on the horn. They want you and all your senior officers in Washington, ASAP. It appears one of your pretty boys has gone berserk."
From the opposite direction of the corridor, Captain Kiles ran down the corridor, his warm, welcoming face showing concern in every line. At Henry's mental command both men formed up, shoulders touching Henry's. They both lowered their mental barriers, letting Henry seize the control necessary for him to teleport all of them.
The conference room disappeared and was replaced by a dark command center. David knew it was in a lower level of the White House. Men, mostly older, many dressed in the uniforms of generals and admirals, others in expensive suits, sat around a large table, voices raised in dozens of arguments raging at the same time. Along the back of the room, several men, waiters, all dark skinned, waited to fill any empty glasses of the elite who ran the United States in this day and age. Further back in the room, David could feel the guards, some normal people, others were members of Henry's elite security team.
The man at the head of the table finally noticed the three men standing at the edge of the room, and slapped the table for silence. He was the man who ran things, hair gone white in his sixties, he still wore it the same way as he had the last 20 years. Without the makeup for the cameras, the old preacher's face showed its true cragginess. To his left, the man who the country called their leader, their President, stopped his argument and waited for the real boss to speak.
The old preacher, having held the position of power he lusted for in years, swept the chair he had been sitting in out of his way, and stormed over to the three men he'd summoned. "Colonel Sells," he grated, fingers stabbing into Henry's chest when he was close enough.
"I warned you about this! You were supposed to keep all your people under control, and you have FAILED," the old man's voice climbed with each word like he was on the pulpit. "We suffered your degeneracy, your evil perversity, only because of the GOOD you can do in GOD'S name! Now, your one of your precious boys has gone and killed millions of GOD'S creatures! What do you have to say for yourself?"
David was shocked that Henry's voice could be so calm, and so polite. "Sir, my sincerest apology, but I haven't heard about what is obviously going wrong. Until I can find out what is happenening, I am unable to do anything about it, or to rectify the wrongs that have been done."
After staring into Henry's eyes, searching for any hint of rebellion, the old man stormed back to the table and grabbed some photos from the table. He shoved them in Henry's face, barely letting the man reach up to take them. David looked out of the corner of his eyes, and what he saw was confusing. A satellite photo of what appeared to be a heavily disturbed ocean. There appeared to be a lot of flotsam in it.
"THAT!" screamed the man. "THAT WAS CALIFORNIA! One of your people caused the earthquake. He had NO RIGHT. ONLY GOD HAS THE RIGHT!"
From the table, a voice hesitantly said, "At least 20 million dead in California alone, or what's left of it. Massive damage as far east as Oklahoma and the Dakotas. Thousands of deaths from the aftershocks all throughout the midwest and the western states. We are estimating a total in the neighborhood of 40 million. Worse than when the riots started and the planes started falling from bad fuel."
"AND THAT WAS NOT ENOUGH," the old man shouted, ripping the the first picture to the floor, to reveal another satellite photo. David recognized a satellite photo of London, but was shocked to see a blasted hole where Buckingham Palace should have been. "The ENTIRE Royal Family, our allies, and thousands more in the nearby areas, all gone."
The next photo showed burnt rubble where a firestorm had feasted on Paris. On and on they went. The military must have re-tasked every remaining satellite to get all these pics. The only thing that wasn't a condemnation was the destruction, or freezing, of Moscow. The preacher was pleased at the fate of the communist bastards (who cares that most weren't communists). From the reports still coming in, the chase was still happening, and who knows where they might end up. It worried David, but then, Henry would be able to teleport them out if necessary.
As the last photo was thrown to the ground, the power behind the Presidency stepped once more into Henry's face, his voice barely a whisper this time. "Once more, Colonel, who was it? Which of your perverts did this deed?"
"Sir, I don't know who is doing this, but I can assure you that I seriously doubt it's anyone sane attached to my command," Henry said, well aware that the guards at the far side of the room were brainwashed so well that if even he, their commanding officer, lied directly they'd tell the bastard standing in front of him.
"WELL THEN, WHO IS IT?" the old man shouted, before clutching his chest tightly. Both David and Barry Kiles reached for the man, reaching out with their abilities, then withdrawing as they felt the heart give out, neither willing to save the man's life. "There's nothing we can do," David said as the old man collapsed, his chest gurgling.
"HE did it," one of the guards shouted, pointing at Henry. Before anyone had a chance to draw a weapon, or for anyone else to react, everyone was thrown to the floor as the ground shook, and a great boom sounded from several hundred feet above the undergroung bunker. As dust and pieces of concrete drifted down from the ceiling, David felt Henry's arm touch his, and then as Henry's mind seized control, he felt himself disappear from the room.
The sudden brightness of daylight blinded David after the darkness of the bunker. His mind slammed shut as soon as Henry released control. Beyond his mental barriers, he could feel a wash of emotions pushing to get in. Rage, fear, loss, grief, madness hammered at him. On the other side of Henry, Barry Kiles was flopping on the ground, in seizures. Blood and froth foamed in his mouth, he had bitten his own tongue off from the flood of emotions breaking through his thin barriers. He had been been too slow in raising them.
Before David could do more than rush to his side, his body went limp as his heart gave out, and his pupils rolled up into the back of his head. Mourning the loss of a friend, David stood, grasping Henry's arm, and strengthened his own barriers, as he felt Henry was doing.
He followed Henry's gaze out over the city that had served as the nation's capital for a few hundred years. In the distance, above the Lincoln Memorial, a blackness swirled. It grew for a moment, and the strangling emotions almost broke through his barriers. Together, Henry and his legs buckled under the strain and they collapsed into each other, falling to the ground. Then the emotions were gone.
As they regained their feet, and looked back to the Memorial, they saw the last of the blackness disappear into a thin slash. Grasping his lover's hand, David reached out cautiously, trying to find some life in the city below them. There was none, not even animals. Everything below them was dead.
Henry's whisper sent more shivers through him, "What do we do now?"
"Home?" David asked, his voice barely a whisper. Henry's answer was to reach out with his mind, finding David ready, and teleport them home.
They appeared in front of the main entrance, which stood open for some reason. As David and Henry walked towards the mess hall, they were surprised at what they saw. Against the far wall stood every trainee, graduate, and instructor at the school. With their backs to them stood Colonel Burns and about 50 soldiers with weapons drawn and pointed at the men against the wall.
David could feel the rage boiling from Henry, and so he was not surprised at the lightning which streaked out and hit all of the soldiers at once. All 50 of them died, the smell of scorched clothing and flesh filling the mess hall immediately. Burns spun around, staring at Henry, pistol in his hand. The last words he heard was Henry saying, "I never did like you, asshole," as Henry summoned fire to consume the man.
Against the wall, their people rushed over to them, questions bursting forth faster than could be answered.
"What's going on?"
"What happened to the twins?"
"Why were they..."
Henry silenced them all with one shout, "Quiet! We are leaving this base. Everyone who can teleport, grab as many as you can."
"Where are we going?" one of them asked.
For a moment, Henry stood there, not able to think of a destination. He never had to answer that question, as a voice answered from the door.
"There's no need to go anywhere," Alan Mills' voice wafted softly into the room. "It's time we took charge, like we were meant to."
As David spun around, wishing for once that he had Henry's ability with the elements so he could blast the man, he received another shock for the day.
Alan Mills stood there, his usual appearance of a man in his mid-20's. His uniform was dirty, like it had been through fires, floods, and who knew what else. That wasn't what shocked David. What did was Alan's form blurring into that of a stranger. He grew taller, as tall as Justin had been. The hair turned a platinum blond, and grew down past his shoulders. The eyes changed to a silver/grey color, as the shoulders narrowed, and the figure of the man slimmed into an almost elfin thinness.
When the change was complete, the man continued in melodic voice, "I am Bjorn. With your help, we will make this world a better place. The normals have done nothing but lead us into death and destruction. Instead of fighting each other, we can join together and make this planet a good place to live."
"Why?" Henry asked, flanked by the others from the Center. "Why should we follow you? You are alone here, we are many."
"Because you don't know your true abilities," the stranger answered. "And I'm not alone"
With that, the great entrance to the facility was filled with over a hundred people. Many were faces David recognized. Others were total strangers. What surprised him the most was that many of them were holding children. There were dozens of the children, and they all ranged from infants to toddlers no more than four or five years old at the most.
Henry's face fell, even as David felt his stomach hit the floor. With a sigh, Henry said, "Men, clean up the mess, it looks like we need to sit down and talk to these people."
The meeting that took place was one that would soon be heard of all over the world. It became known as the Shapers' Accord. However, for the first few months following the earth-shattering battle which had destroyed almost every major city in the world, chaos reigned. It took every man who had once called themselves 'Psionics' but now called themselves 'Shapers' to restore order to the world.
By the time they were done, it was clear that they held the reins of power throughout every land where humans lived. All together, they totalled over 3,500 people. Many things were accomplished, and a lot of explanations were given.
"It's not really what we thought it was," explained Michael Strausser as he and David were getting some coffee at one point. "There aren't any real 'disciplines' like we thought. It's just what the individual is naturally inclined towards. Any of us can teleport, throw lightning, or heal. The only real limits are what we know, what we are familiar with, and what we can shape with our minds. That's why we refer to ourselves as 'Shapers'.
A little later, he was talking to Kelly Cole, and got an explanation about the kids. "Would you believe they were breeding them to be their 'loyal' army?" Kelly said. "We figured Justy figured it out, too. After he disappeared, Strausser and I liberated the kids in Phoenix, then took them to a safe place with Bjorn's people. We found enough records there that we'll be able to find the rest of them. Can you believe three of them were his? I wonder if all three will have the gift."
That was when David decided he'd raise those kids himself, hopefully with Henry's support. While they talked in that underground bunker, chaos reigned above. News of the destruction of so many cities spread throughout the world. For the second time in a decade, life ceased as people had known it. Those that still lived in cities fled, or tried to. The aftereffects of Justin's chase were almost as bad as the chase itself.
They also learned what had happened to Alan. He'd found the ship, and it was full of Bjorn's people. Sensing they were gifted, he'd approached cautiously. When the Shapers on the ship saw him, they tried to hold him, capture him, but he fought too hard. He'd died in the fight. Bjorn had arrived shortly thereafter, and read the fading memories of Alan. Then he'd received a message from Kelly Cole, and teleported to Phoenix.
Kelly trusted Justin to keep his word, as did Strausser. Both of them trusted the man a lot, but Bjorn couldn't be that trusting. This close to the final steps to unifying all the Shapers for one purpose, one goal pushed the man. So he took the form of Alan Mills and followed the trace of Justin's teleport.
He'd arrived in San Francisco just in time to witness the arrival of the twins. He was saddened by the fact that Justin had broken the trust of his friends, and angered at them for believing it. He couldn't risk anything endangering his plans for a unification of all Shapers. So he struck. He meant for all three to die quickly, as painlessly as possible. Justin's survival and the events afterward shook him to the core. He barely escaped with his life, and didn't know how he'd finally lost the crazed man chasing him. He was just glad he did.
By the time the next morning had rolled around, the base was full of people. Every last one that had their gift had been reached, and brought there. Every exit to the surface was destroyed, leaving the base inaccessible without their abilities. The children bred in the US, and in some other countries as well, were brought there, and taken care of. (David learned later that four were his own, and 2 more were Henry's. They'd spend the next few years raising kids, among the other things they did.)
By the end of that second day, the Shapers' Accords were signed, and the men moved out into the world to restore order, and bring the Accords to what remained of human civilization. In some places they were welcomed, others opposed. But regardless of their reception, order was restored within a few weeks. By the end of a month, the world was theirs.
These are the Shapers' Accords:
We have been given abilities beyond those of normal human beings. We have been entrusted with these abilities, and do vow to use them for the benefit of all humanity.
Regardless of previous boundaries between nations, regions shall be drawn for which Shapers shall assume the responsibility of governance. At the determination of the Shapers assigned to the region, governments shall be allowed among the normal population; however, all such laws shall be subject to veto or modification by the regional Shapers' Council.
Shapers shall govern by Council. All Shapers who have achieved the age of 18 years shall cast votes for Council Representatives. Each Region, totalling 60 in all, will be governed by a Council of not less than 5, but not more than 9. Each Council shall appoint a Council Leader who shall represent the Region at the Grand Council. The Grand Council will be made up of the Regional Representatives, and shall appoint a Head Councillor. The Head Councillor of the Grand Council and Council Leaders for the Regional Councils shall not vote except in the case of a tie.
All Shapers shall be governed by their Council. Reported misuse of abilities regarding Normals shall be reviewed by the respective Council, whose decision shall be final, unless overuled by the Grand Council.
No Shaper shall use their abilities on another Shaper without their permission. The penalty for such violation shall be death. Any such case will be adjudged by the Grand Council, whose decision is final.
No normal human being shall cause harm, or allow through inaction, harm to be caused to a Shaper. Penalty shall be immediate death upon determination by any Shaper of guilt.
These Accords did not sit easily on people at first. In some regions, the rule of the Shapers pervaded every aspect of life. In others, their touch was almost unseen, and the Council was viewed almost as a myth. However, their abilities ensured that they were rarely challenged, and never successfully.
Neither David nor Henry were comfortable with them, but as they were both selected for the Regional Council of the eastern United States, they felt they could make more of a difference from the inside, than rebelling. Besides, they were fairly well outnumbered.
The biggest bump in the road came after the first year of unification. The story had spread of the cause of the devastation of so many cities, and people screamed for justice. Naturally the story had changed in the telling. As it was told by that time, Bjorn (now the Head of the Grand Council) had been trying to end the evil rule of the zealots in the U.S.
One of their stooges, by the name of Justin Ackeman, found him and chased him. The stooge had been strong, but Bjorn was quicker, escaping him time and again. Finally Bjorn had led him into a trap, and banished him from Earth forever. Most people accepted the story, and the name 'Justin' soon became very, very unpopular.
Except in a few households, David's being one of them. As the years passed, and their children grew, David and Henry decided that when a certain three were old enough, they'd be told the truth. Until then, they claimed all nine children as their own.
David used his abilities to heal. He visited hospitals, small towns, and even individual farms all over the Eastern U.S. Wherever he went, he left people behind healed, restored to health. He found that as long there was a spark of life left, he could bring the person back. Sometimes it even made him feel better about having lost Alan, Justin, Jason, and Curtis.
Shortly after they reached thirteen, and puberty was well underway, the children started showing signs of their abilities. Late one night, Henry and Alan were wakened by two of the kids, Tad and Erica. During the night, they'd received that message Justin had left them so long ago, and it had scared them. That was the night they learned the true story of that fateful day.
The next month, they had been sent to the Shapers' Academy, as was required of all kids when their abilities manifested. There, they met Kelly Cole and Michael Strausser, two of the teachers. At their insistence, the siblings were given the same quarters in the underground base where their father had lived, and they later found that the quarters had been Justin's. In the desk, they found a small book that was a small photo album Justin and the twins had kept. It soon became their prized possession.
The years sped by, until one day when their curiosity became too much, and the two begged David to take them to Washington, the last place their father was known to have been. They teleported to the edge of the city, where David and Henry had watched the death of the city. They had barely arrived when Justin had emerged from his void. It took a while, but they had convinced David to come with them, to the Memorial, where they'd found him.
Justin emerged out of the meld in a state of shock, happy and sad at the same. Once more he was alone inside his head, he didn't think he'd ever be used to it again. He'd seen the last fifteen years from David's point of view, had watched his children grow up, including their little brother, Alan. Alan, as Justin had known, was not gifted, but he was still loved.
The children had also shared their memories of childhood with them, and of their training. It hurt thinking of Michael and Kelly. Their betrayal had caused the deaths of Jason and Curtis. Had led to that dreadful event.
Then the guilt hit him. How many had died because of him? Tens of millions at least. Love from the children poured into him, and he returned it. Looking into their eyes, he knew at last what it meant to be a parent.
As they separated from their hug, he noticed that the sun was starting to set. He turned to face his old friend, David, who was still silent. Looking deep into the man's eyes, and feeling totally lost in the changed world, he asked, "What now?"
David took a deep breath, then kicked his mind back into gear. "The kids have to get back to the base. They only have leave till sundown." He looked at them, and their crestfallen faces. "And don't let anyone catch onto what's happened. It won't do much good for anyone to find out about Jaz's return."
They both shook their heads, and gave their father a quick hug. Then they took a couple of steps back and disappeared. At that moment, another wave of dizziness hit Justin and he passed out. He never felt David pick him up, a look of worry and fear on his face, and never felt the teleport to David's home.
As usual, he woke slowly, drifting up from the edges of sleep, the last dream he'd had already fading mercifully into the depths of his subconscious. Justin stretched his legs out, feeling more refreshed than he remembered being in a while. When he didn't feel two more pairs of legs on either side of him, memory came crashing down on him.
A strangled sob announced his waking to the room. As he sat up, tightening his arms uselessly around his rib cage, the lonely silence of his mind echoed, 'Alone! Alone! I'm so ALONE!' It didn't matter that there were other people in the room. He was alone without his lovers.
David, the twin streaks of grey in his dark hair glistening in the soft moonlight filling the room, rushed out of his chair to circle his arms around Justin. The other man in the room also got up, but much more slowly. The last 15 years did not appear to have been kind to Henry Sells. His hair was totally grey, and his powerful frame seemed to have shrunk in on itself. If slower than his partner, he too got on the bed and wrapped his hands around Justin.
"Jaz, baby," he whispered. "You're not alone. They're gone, and we all miss them. But you're needed here and now. We need you, your kids need you."
When Henry mentioned kids, images sprang up from memories that he had been given, but were not his own. Two boys and a girl, playing in a downtown apartment with other children. All three with platinum blond hair and blue eyes. The love he felt for them was his own, though, not from someone else like the memories.
"How long?" he asked through a scratchy and dry throat.
"You've been out of it for two weeks," David said softly.
"Tad and Erica have spent their weekend leave here, waiting for you to wake up. It's too bad they aren't here now. At least they've been able to keep your return a secret," Henry said into the silence following David's answer.
"My kids," Justin whispered, his throat returning to normal as he willed it to. "I still can't believe it. But, why am I still here? Why did I live? Why do I bother continuing with them gone?"
"Jaz, you know the answer to that as well as we do," Henry said, his voice firm and demanding. "Your kids are one reason. The people are another. Back in Phoenix, when Strausser and Cole tried to get you to join Bjorn's quest, you said that it wasn't our place to rule over humanity. Deep down you believe in the right of people to choose their own destiny, not to be ruled by a small group of people."
"Duty," Justin whispered. "You're playing the duty card against me?"
"Of course," David chuckled. "You believe in Duty, Honor, Loyalty as more than words. You believe in them so totally that you know you won't give up until the mission is done."
A calmness welled up in Justin, drowning the grief for a while. As the two men, his old friends, released him and moved back from the bed, he swung his legs around and stood up. He was only wearing a pair of white briefs, and his young skin and short blond hair made him appear to be in his early 20's. Beside the two men, he appeared positively youthful. He looked at them, and their age and wondered why they appeared old while he was still young. "What's with the gray hair?"
"We feel old," Henry said, his features returning to the younger appearance Justin was more used to, then switching back to the older appearance. "Besides, it makes the normals more comfortable if we at least appear to age."
Nodding at the explanation, and deciding that he would not take part in the deception, he walked to the great bay windows of the large bedroom he was in. The plush carpet under his feet was a comfortable feeling as he looked out the window at the city below. The room was in a skyscraper, and although different, it was obviously New York. It seemed like half the tall buildings had been torn down, and acres of farmland dotted the landscape that had once been all concrete and steel.
Lights twinkled throughout the city, and Justin realized he heard the hum of a central air system in the apartment. Turning his head towards the two men watching him he raised a blond eyebrow and said "Electricity?"
"Yes," David said. "Some of the more scientific minded folks in the Shaper ranks figured out how we could use our abilities to harness the fusion reaction. We've made a few reactors throughout every major city in the world. They provide enough power for civilization to return at a basic level. There's even radio again. No TV though."
"Good," Justin said, turning back into the room, and away from the new city out there, a strange mixture of 19th and 20th century technologies. "TV always did rot the brain.
"So, you said I was needed here. What is it that you have in mind, Colonel?" he asked Henry.
"Jaz, son," Henry said, a look of pain on his face. "That title is dead, dead for over a decade. There are no more armies now, unless they are opposed to the rule of the Shapers' Council. Even those don't last long unless they manage to get a rogue Shaper to join them. Then they just last a little longer."
"So, resistance is futile, and you expect me to be more successful than an army?"
"Jaz, don't go there," David warned in a low voice.
"You're not alone, Jaz," Henry explained. "At first, almost no one in the Shapers' Councils opposed Bjorn's plan. Truth be told, almost everyone embraced it with whole hearts. David and I didn't like it, but we knew doing anything about it then would just end up with us dead.
"Since then, dissent among the councils has grown. Most of the regional councils in the Americas support returning power to elected governments, or more precisely, governments elected by ALL the people. However, most of the European, Asian, and African councils are firmly in power, and like it too much to give it up."
"Then there's Bjorn," David said, and regretted it when the fire loomed in Justin's eyes. "Jaz, settle down. Now's the wrong time. He's still alive, and firmly entrenched as the Head of the Grand Council. He effectively rules the entire world, and believes that he's been placed here to save mankind from itself."
"So, again, what do you expect me..." Justin began once again, only to be interrupted by the door being slammed open.
As the door banged against the wall, a smell of stale alcohol and grime wafted into the room. The figure in the door, framed by the light of the hallway, was dressed in a dirty blue t-shirt and even dirtier jeans. The reek of alcohol, and a body unwashed for days now filled the room as the figure swayed a little in drunkenness.
Once Justin's eyes adapted to the light, he realized that he was staring at a younger reflection of himself, right down to the blond hair and strong chin. "Shhoooooo. Thish is whatch yourrr hiding," the strange youth slurred. "Dear old pappy finally comes home."
David rushed towards the young man as Justin stood there, a look of shock on his face. "Alan," David said, concern evident in his voice. "Where have you been? Disappearing for two weeks this time! Pop and I were worried!"
The kid tried to pull back from David's arms, but only succeeded in falling to the floor. As David concentrated for a moment, a silver glow flowed around the prone figure, washing the chemicals from his blood stream. "Not just whiskey, but drugs too, this time. Henry, dear, he's been like this since he turned sixteen, and I don't know if he'll make his seventeenth birthday now."
"Oh my god!" Justin groaned. "It's my fault too." He rushed to his son's side and nearly crushed the kid's head against his chest. "I didn't think it'd hurt him!"
"What do you mean?" Henry asked, joining the two in kneeling near the unconcious young man.
"You know about the memories I left for Erica and Tad?" Justin asked, not waiting for their nods before continuing. "Well, I left some for him too. Except it was keyed for his sixteenth birthday. I didn't want him to miss out on knowing his family just because he wasn't gifted."
"You knew?" David asked in a quiet voice.
"Of course, I could feel he didn't have the ability as surely as I felt all three were my kids."
"That explains a lot," Henry said. "Let's get him to bed."
This time, it was Justin's turn to wait beside the bed for a loved one to wake. Sure, his only experience with this young man was when he'd been little more than a baby, and the drunken kid of a few minutes ago, but he loved him nonetheless. The fact that he'd contributed to the poor kid's troubles only made the knife in his gut hurt more.
As early morning passed into sunrise, and hours ticked by, grief still swelled in him, but he kept it under control. He'd been through grief before, but this time it was harder. He was no longer used to being alone. One thing he knew for sure was that just because his great loves were gone, it didn't mean there weren't other things around worth loving. Like kids, his kids.
"Dammit, son, I wish I could go back in time and change things, but I don't dare risk it," he said, barely a whisper.
"Why don't you?" David's voice from the doorway surprised him. "When you shared the nature of our abilities with your little conspiracy, that's the one thing you insisted on. Why?"
"You remember the deadly mist and the tear in reality when we faced Corcoran?" Justin asked, dreading giving voice to thos strange events which led to his most happy years, and the worst loss of his life.
"Yes," David answered, curiosity drowning his worry.
"I made it when I went back in time," Justin continued, and let the whole story come out, telling it for the very first time to another being who had not been there.
"So," David said when he was done. "If time travel does that, I'm glad your warning was honored. Don't worry, he's sleeping things off. He'll probably wake late tonight or in the morning. Why don't you join us for some lunch?"
"No thanks," Justin mumbled, his eyes returning to the young face so like his own, "I want to be here when he wakes. It's bad enough he grew up without me, I want to be here when he wakes up."
"Ok, then. We'll leave ya alone," David said softly, closing the door behind him. From the way Justin kept repeating 'when he wakes', David knew the man would have to be forced from the bedside, eventually.
The day passed with Justin barely moving from his son's side. Instead, he opened his mind up and cast it around him. For the first time, he consciously let himself extend his abilities to their furthest while he sampled the minds of those in the city below him, and in the country beyond. While his normal, human son slept a deep sleep, Justin learned about this world he had reawakened to. He felt the minds of what were obviously the people now called Shapers, and stayed away from them. But he let himself see through the eyes of regular humans, sampled their thoughts, their feelings, and their dreams.
His attention was drawn back to the room he sat in when the figure on the bed stirred. Getting up from the chair he was in, Justin sat on the bed, leaning forward towards the young man who was his son. As the boy's eyes opened, he held his breath, praying and dreading what was about to happen.
"It really is you?" the soft voice whispered, as a smile slowly formed on the face. "You really came back for me?"
"I'm here for you now, son," Justin said, not wanting to lie directly to this beautiful smiling young man. He took the young man into his arms, covering him a great hug. "I'm sorry I was gone so long. If I had known what you were going through, I'd have come back sooner." All true, absolutely.
Sobs shook the young man at Justin's words. "Dad, you must hate me after...after..I..uh.."
"Shhhh," Justin whispered smoothly. "David wiped the drugs out of your system. I wasn't here then, and I'm not going to judge you by what you did before I came back. You have a clean slate with me. I love you, unconditionally. You're my son."
Justin continued to hold his weeping son, letting the emotions he was feeling sweep over him. As love for his son grew, stirring him more and more, Justin felt a pang of guilt. His grief for the twins was fading, being replaced by the love for this, his youngest child. But he knew they wouldn't want him to let his grief for them mar the love for his son.
The next few weeks passed quietly for Justin. He never left the large apartment owned by Henry and David. He spent the time almost exclusively with his youngest child. He learned of the pain the young man felt when he never manifested abilities like the other seven children raised by Henry and David.
Justin's experiences growing up a gay child in a straight world helped Alan come to terms with himself, and his role in the 'family' they all found themselves a part of. On the weekends, Erica and Tad returned home on leave, with David's and Henry's chidlren. He grew to love them as well, but his heart belonged to his youngest, Alan (yes, he'd been renamed by Henry and David in honor of their mutual friend Alan Mills).
While Justin got to know his family, including their five children, Henry and David set about letting select others know of Justin's return to the world. Slowly, they used the weeks to reach out to those they knew shared their beliefs on the governing of the world. As the month wore on, a plan began to take shape to return the world, or at least a part of it, to self-governance.
As the fourth weekend approached of Justin's stay, he decided he was tired of staying inside the apartment. Alan was getting as restless as he was, and so Justin decided it was time for a field trip. As soon as his old friends had left on another trip to meet some more conspirators, Justin woke Alan and told him to get ready.
An hour later, the two men left the building and walked out into the cold November morning. The streets of New York were busy, although not nearly as crowded as a few decades before. Again, Justin was shocked by the strange mixture of technologies. Horse driven carts, full of foodstuffs or farm implements, shared the streets with a few electric vehicles. The people they passed wore an odd mixture of homespun clothing and manufactured clothes.
For the two men, one young, the other merely young-looking, the fresh air was a relief from the recirculated air of the apartment. They had dressed warmly, wearing jeans, blue turtlenecks under matching long-sleeved flannel button-ups. It seemed so natural to Justin to dress like whoever he was with that he paid it no mind. Despite the fact that he was not present in the back of Justin's head like the twins had been, his son filled most of the void they had left behind.
For a few hours, they walked around the City, Alan leading Justin around. He pointed out interesting sights, and some that he liked. Around noon, they walked into a small restaurant nestled against another skyscraper. "It's home to a few Shapers, all of whom are out of town," Alan explained of the tall building as they entered the restaurant.
The smell of food cooking caused both men's stomachs to rumble as the proprietor greeted Alan. "Young master!" the portly man said. "So good to see you and your young friend. I hope he makes you happy."
Laughing, mostly at the man's assumption, only a little tempted to correct the man that this was his father, not another lover, Alan simply said, "He does at that, Andie, he's made me happier than I remember being in a long time."
Justin put his arm around his son, not caring if the proprietor made a wrong assumption, and added, "I'm the lucky one, sir. Without him, life really wouldn't be worth living."
"Glad to hear that the young sir has someone who cares for him at last!" the proprietor said as he showed them to a private table in a secluded corner of the restaurant. There were a fair amount of people at the tables around them, all ignoring the newest diners, or all seeming to.
As they sat at the table, a handsome waiter appeared with two drinks. Alan looked up for a moment, indecision on his face, then said, "No drinks, Andie. I don't drink alcohol anymore. How about some tea?"
Shock appeared on the man's face. It was soon replaced by a big smile and he slapped Justin's shoulder, "You ARE a good influence, young sir. You keep him good, and if you hurt him, you have ME to answer to."
"Don't worry," Justin assured him, liking the man even more, "I love him more than you can imagine."
The proprietor wandered off, talking to some more customers, and the waiter reappeared with some ice tea for the two. They ordered a hearty lunch, and sat at the table staring at each other for a while.
"Dad," Alan said after they were alone, "Thank you so much. These last few weeks really mean a lot to me. I didn't know how to fit in when I was the only one without abilities, but your loving me the way you do makes that seem to be no big deal."
"It isn't, son. You, you yourself are very important to me. If it wasn't for you, I don't think life could feel this good, without..them."
A sad moment passed between them, as the grief welled up in Justin. Seeing it on his face, Alan reached across the table, putting his hand atop his father's, the young man let his love show, supporting Justin in every important way. The moment was interrupted by a different waiter bringing food to the table. As the man set the food on the table, Justin was disturbed by a feeling of impending doom.
"I thought so," the waiter said after setting Justin's plate down, brushing against Justin's arm. The man stepped back for a moment, as the two seated men looked up at him. The air behind Alan swirled, and a man appeared behind Justin's son, dragging him up, hand locked around Alan's throat.
"Justin Ackeman, you are under arrest for Treason," the waiter said as his features blurred into a more familiar face.
Justin stood, knocking his chair away. Before he could do anything, the man holding Alan tightened his grip in obvious threat. Turning to the waiter, whose features had blurred and reformed, he realized he knew the man.
"Don't even think about it," Eddie Zindel said. "You're a sentimentalist, Jaz. I know you, you trained me years ago. Come quietly and no one gets hurt. We don't know how you managed to return, or to get in contact with your son without Sells or Baxter knowing, but it's over now."
Sighing in defeat, Justin decided that it was not time for a fight yet. At his nod, his old student Eddie formed an image of a room in a strange city in the air between them. "This is your destination, Mr. Ackeman. You will teleport yourself there, and surrender to the people waiting there. The young man will remain in protective custody so long as you remain so."
Sighing, Justin looked over at his son, who was now struggling against his captor. Shaking his head, he mouthed "I love you" and teleported himself to the destination he was shown by his former student. He wasn't surprised to find several men there.
They were all dressed in white pants and electric blue tunics, the official Shapers' uniform. Over the cupped earth symbol on their chest there was a symbol of weighted scales, the ages-old sign of justice. One of the men stepped forward and said, "Justin Ackeman, Lieutenant Commander of the Navy of the former United States, you are hereby placed under arrest for Treason against the Shapers' Accords, namely the attemped murder of Grand Councillor Bjorn, and the murder of sixty-two million, three hundred and ninety-four thousand, eight hundred and two normals. In addition you will be charged for being indirectly responsible for the death of another 200 million people in the chaos which followed your attempt to murder Councillor Bjorn." Finished, he motioned for Justin to follow him.
Worried about his son, Justin allowed the men to lead him away into a small room. At least it didn't have any bars.
Several days passed, and Justin had no contact with anyone except the guard who dropped food off a few times a day. Finally, something different happened when the guard who had spoken to him before appeared through the open door. In his arms he carried a uniform.
Justin stared at the Navy dress blues. The stripes of a Lieutenant Commander adorned both sleeves, and all the correct medals and ribbons were on the chest. The guard had a cold expression on his face as he set the uniform on the small bed which was the room's only furniture.
"It is time for your trial. Get dressed," was all he said as he turned and left the room, standing just outside, obviously waiting.
Sighing, not sure what else to do, Justin got dressed in the uniform. A brief moment of concentration ensured that he looked, and smelled, as if he had taken an hour getting ready for what was to come. As soon as he was done, the man nodded and led him down a hallway.
The plain hall led to another, more ornate hallway. After a few minutes, he was led to a pair of gilded great doors, flanked by men dressed just like his guard. Pausing outside the door, the man turned back to him and spoke once more.
"Any use of your abilities inside this room is forbidden. All that will result is the deaths of your last living relatives." With that said, the man made a small motion and the great doors were opened. Beyond them lay a large room. At the far end of the room was a small dais, with one chair on it. To each side of the dais were two long, ornate tables running perpendicular to the dais. Halfway along the tables, mid-distance between them, and facing the dais was something that resembled a British witness box.
Justin walked along the room, looking at the men seated at the tables on either side. There were thirty seated at each table, all dressed exactly as David had been, all with the sunburst above the cupped earth symbol on each chest. Determinedly, he did not look at the man seated in the chair on the dais. As he stepped into the box, a sigh escaped many lips, and he was forced to look at the man on the dais, who now stood.
Time had not touched Bjorn either. His long, platinum blond hair glinted in the sunlight streaming through high windows. The blue of his tunic showed off his silver eyes wonderfully. If the man hadn't been responsible for the death of his loves, Justin might have admitted he was handsome.
"We are convened today on a matter most serious," Bjorn's melodic voice rang in the chamber. "In respect of the fact that this matter before us impacts not only us as Shapers, but all of the people we seek to protect, we are broadcasting this session on all radio channels throughout the world. The expense in power is supported by members of the Shapers' Energy Division, and will not be charged to those choosing to listen. Today, the world will learn that Shapers' justice applies to everyone, including our fellow Shapers."
As he finished, he sat down in his chair and motioned towards the tables. One man stood at each table and walked in front of the dais. Both bowed low to Bjorn, then the man on the left spoke.
After Bjorn's beautiful voice, this man's seemed harsh. He was shorter, and appeared well into his forties. A strong accent made his English seem odd, but was clearly understandable.
"Fifteen years ago, this man, this Shaper now standing there in the uniform of a long-dead nation, visited upon this planet death greater than any it had ever known before. His reason? Irrational hatred of our great leader, Bjorn. In his rage and desire to avenge the death of his bedmates, millions of our people died. Today justice will be done for his crimes."
As the second man began to tell of the events leading to the twins' death, Justin struggled to keep his anger under control. Obviously this was a sham trial, which would end with his execution. But the question for him was, would he allow himself to be killed without a fight?
Looking around the room, barely paying attention to the man speaking, not wanting to remember the death of California which was now being told, he recognized one of the men still sitting at the tables on the left. It was David. David's attention was focused on the speakers, earnestly ignoring Justin.
An hour passed as the two men, now alternating, told of Justin's chasing Bjorn, and the deaths of so many. Again, rage and grief swelled in Justin, but was tempered by love and concern for his children. Any action or word by him could kill them, and that he would not do.
As the story wound down, ending with the purported 'imprisoning' of him by Bjorn, he looked once more at David, when all eyes were on the man seated on the dais. David stared at him and mouthed one word. The word was 'Safe'.
With that one word, not even vocalized, Justin felt a tingling rise throughout his body. His fingers trembled slightly as energy roared through him. Rage boiled in him, but he fought it to a slow simmer. Unlike last time he'd tried to kill Bjorn, this time his brain was thinking.
"Thank you," Bjorn spoke at last, rising from his throne-like chair. "Though it saddens me to have to remember that dreadful day, it was necessary so that the world would know the crimes of this man. While I sought to unite our planet, and lead us out of the despair our former leaders caused, he did his best to destroy what we had left. Now.."
"Justice will be done," Justin said, his voice a low counterpoint to Bjorn's.
"The prisoner will be SILENT!" Bjorn shouted.
"No, I will not," Justin answered, his voice a dead calm. "You killed them. They were not bedmates, not playmates. They were my loves. We were joined, mind-to-mind. When they died, a part of my mind was ripped out, and what was left was in so much pain it knew only one thing.
"You were responsible. You speak of noble causes, but you struck without warning. While they hugged me, giving comfort, you reached out with lightning and ripped them from me."
"NO! You broke your word, just as you are doing now. You will pay for it before you die," Bjorn stormed, stalking down the dais, towards Justin. At the tables, all the men seated there were standing now, shock apparent on many faces, uncertainty on all of them.
"The only word I gave is that which would keep you from killing my children. You can only rule through fear and threats of harm. These, and many other actions of you and your 'COUNCIL' have proven that you are no better than the men you replaced."
Bjorn's only answer was a bolt of lightning. The lightning shattered the wooden box he was standing in, but didn't touch Justin. A shield didn't surround him, the lightning just disappeared before it touched him. Chaos reigned at the tables as half the men tried to help Bjorn, while the others moved to stop them. Justin didn't notice it. He only had sight for one thing, Bjorn.
As he had before, Bjorn chose to run. Justin chose to follow. This time it was different. When Justin appeared in the Tower of London, it was Bjorn who ignited a firestorm to kill him. Nearly a million people lived in London until that moment. The storm raged around the city, burning it to the ground, while Justin walked towards Bjorn as if on a Sunday stroll. When he got close enough to touch the man, Bjorn disappeared.
Time and again, Bjorn ran. Sometimes to a city, sometimes to deserted farmland. The peak of Everest was forever shattered as he sought to blast Justin away. It failed. Finally he disappeared to the place he had hidden from the first time. It stumped Justin again, he could not find the man.
Justin went back to the room from where Bjorn had ruled, he somehow knew that it was somewhere in Sweden, even if he didn't know where. As he appeared in the Grand Hall, he found it in far different condition than when he left. The Hall was no longer standing. It had been blasted open to the sun, and daylight. There were bodies all around, including at least ten wearing the uniform of Shapers. One lone figure stood there, David. Soot streaked his uniform, but his hair was a solid black, and the age lines were gone. The David Baxter Justin had known years ago had returned.
"Jaz!" the man shouted, running and taking Justin into a great bear hug. "Did you get him?"
"NO!" Justin shouted, frustration roaring in his voice, and the ground slipped under him as his anger slipped a little.
"Whoa! Keep it under control, brother. We managed to kill about ten of the bastards, while only losing two of our own. We've pulled back our people to the American continents, and they've pulled back to Europe, Asia, and Africa. The Shapers down in Australia and New Zealand have declared themselves neutral. We need to get back home ASAP, before those over here come back and take a look."
"My kids?"
"Safe in an underground bunker, not the Center. Right now, Bjorn's allies are leaderless. They aren't going to attack us, but we need to get them before they can come up with a plan. We caught them flatfooted."
"You go, David. It seems like any plans I make are too long-range. Someone always comes in and steals the march on me. I'm gonna hunt Bjorn."
"Are you sure?" David asked, staring deep in Justin's eyes.
"Give Alan, Erica, and Tad my love."
"I will. Find the bastard and gut him. I miss Curtis and Jason too," David said before disappearing.
Justin stood there for a moment, and searched again for Bjorn. The man's presence could not be found anywhere. As Justin searched, he reached his mind around the world, hunting for that long familiar mental signature. Frustration grew as he didn't find it.
No matter how far his search around the world went, he couldn't find the man. As he jumped over and over, searching for the target, his frustration grew more intense. Sitting on a hill, looking out at a harbor in New Zealand, he gave voice to his frustration in a long wail filled with rage, pain, and loss.
Searching around the world was useless. The man had succeeded in hiding again. At least Alan and the other kids were safe underground. Then something occurred to him. Searching AROUND the world was useless. What about BELOW the surface?
Casting his mind deep under the surface, Justin resumed his hunt. He laughed when his search lasted only a few minutes before he found his target. His rage boiling once again, Justin concentrated for a moment and joined his target deep underground.
Heat! Heat buffeted Justin, but he ignored it. With his mind refusing to acknowledge that anything could harm him, the intense heat didn't touch him. His clothes flash fired, even the medals on his chest turned to liquid in seconds. The molten metal dribbled down his bare chest, totally unnoticed. If he'd had to breathe, this pocket cave, deep in the Earth's core would have been his death. There was no air, only a small, nearly empty cavern on the edge of a molten lake.
Fortunately, his abilities precluded the need for air, even as they protected his body from the heat. Standing before him, staring at the great molten lake, his target stood. The man's back was to him, and Justin approached, until he was close enough to reach out and touch the man.
'It's so beautiful,' Bjorn's mind said to Justin. 'The primal beauty of our home. No other person has seen this place, this forge of creation. Would it be so bad, taking your place on the Council, helping to lead the sheep that crawl on the surface?'
'The very fact that you view them as sheep makes my answer all the more certain,' Justin answered, his emotions causing turmoil to roil within him.
'Maybe a better word exists, but I use the words I know. We can be their shepherds, protecting them.'
'Like a parent raises a child?'
Bjorn spun around, his eyes glittering with tears. 'EXACTLY! We need to be their parents, forever guiding their steps, protecting them from the wrong choices they make!'
'We are not gods,' Justin thought to the man. 'Even parents must let their children go eventually. The people up on the surface aren't sheep, or children needing to be led around on apron strings. They must be allowed to make their own choices, their own mistakes.' It was amazing to him, but all of Justin's burning rage had turned to ice, leaving only one clear path for him to follow.
'Why? When we can guide them, nurture them, protect them,' Bjorn's thoughts reflected the waves of fear he was feeling.
'To do otherwise is to make the same mistakes of so many others. Give me liberty or give me death, the history books say. I'm actually sorry, but you cannot live.' As Justin thought his last sentence, he reached out with both hands, grabbed the man's neck and started to squeeze. As Bjorn felt his throat being squeezed, the molten lake behind him erupted, and the earth shook.
Justin ignored it, just as he ignored the ground shaking around him. His only thought was on his hands squeezing the life out of this man in front of him. His mind reached out at the same time, squeezing the mind of Bjorn, just as Justin's hands were squeezing the man's throat.
The shaking grew worse, as Bjorn approached physical and mental death. After what seemed like hours, the man gave one last mental scream, his neck and mind snapped, and the cave collapsed around the two men as the earth gave another great heave. Miles above them, the ground shook like it never had before.
Continental plates shifted, new volcanoes raged up, and old lands were destroyed by lava or overrun by tidal waves wrecking everything in their path. As the ground shook beneath them, people fled, desperate for life. Others cried out to their many Gods, praying for deliverance. No matter what they did, though, it didn't matter. They still died.
As Bjorn's body was consumed by magma, forever gone from the world, Justin felt the tremors begin anew. Feeling weaker than ever before, he collapsed under the weight of crushing rock, and ignored the magma pouring over him while he wept one last time for his lost loves.
Within hours, the earth was forever changed, and those few millions that survived knew nothing would ever be the same. By the time the tremors stopped a few days later, 3/4 of the earth's population were dead..over three billion people had joined Bjorn in death.