Warning -- If you're a prude, or live in a state where prudish people pass stupid laws, you might not want to read this story. There be gay people here. Sometimes violence too. If you can't handle that, too bad for you, go somewhere else. Everyone else...enjoy.
Once again, my appreciation to Ed for his help in editing. Since I have an outline for these stories, and have a basic idea of what happens all the way to the end, I get asked one question a lot. "Do you ever change parts of the story based on what's happening in your life?" The answer: is yes, there are minor changes. Chapter 3 introduced a character based on a reader I talk to occasionally. This chapter is another one. I'll explain how it was changed at the end. I hope you enjoy!
Shapers War Chapter 5 -- Deliverance of a City
The view here was incredible. James couldn't believe his luck to be here. The mountaintops were all crowned in white, the green of pine trees barely visible through the thick coating of snow. Below him, the mountain he stood on took a steep drop down thousands of feet. He could see the rest of the ski resort down below, and the cables of a gondola connected the two locations.
He'd stepped off one of those gondolas a moment ago and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him. He truly felt insignificant and small beside the grand beauty of the place. The sun sparkled on the white, snow-covered mountains and reflected off the rich blue water of the distant lake. In his fifteen years, he'd never seen a sight so beautiful.
"Hey!" a voice from behind him called out. "I know it's pretty, but I need to get by."
James turned around quickly, totally forgetting about the snowboard he was holding. The edge of the board slammed into the body that owned the voice, knocking it down. He dropped the board and bent down to help the prone figure up.
As the guy took James' hand to get up, he had a moment to check him out. The latest victim to his clumsiness was wearing black ski pants (of course), a black jacket with a green stripe. Emblazoned on the stripe was the name of the ski resort `Guardians' Valley'. A pair of goggles rested on his forehead, holding back a shock of bleach blond hair instead of covering a pair of beautiful blue eyes. Altogether a different sight than the brown haired, brown eyed James.
"Sorry," James said as he helped the guy to his feet. If he had to guess, James thought the guy was a year older than him, maybe two. "I'm a little clumsy sometimes."
"No prob," the guy said again. "Not the first time I've been knocked down by a pube."
"Pube?" James asked, his voice rising slightly like it always did when he was nervous.
"Yeah, pube," the guy said, drawing out the word. "It means Pubescent. New guy on the slope. I can see the beginner lift ticket on your neck."
"Oh," James said, his face showing his embarrassment in red.
"Of course, I must say you dress better than most pubes up here," the strange kid said, laughing a little at James' blush.
James was wearing beige ski pants with a blue ski jacket. They were gifts from his parents, who had finally dragged him along with them on their annual ski trip. His one minor bit of rebellion on the point was that he'd chosen snowboarding instead of skiing. They'd gotten back a bit by making him take lessons.
"Yeah," James said. "I got it from the grups. They decided I'd go with them this year, so I thought I might as well have fun up here."
"So, you be taking boarding lessons," the guy said as he bent over, picked up the now forgotten snowboard, and handed it back to James.
"Better than trying to figure it out on my own," James said, fighting to keep from blushing again.
"Good idea. I'd hate to see the patrol have to take your ass back down the hill on a stretcher. Look, nice chatting with ya, but I'm later now than I was before you decided to gawk at the scenery. Just remember, it's been there long before you got here, and it'll be there long after we're gone. And if you don't get a move on, you'll miss your lesson. See ya!"
With that, the handsome young man scurried past James and up the stairs leading to the ski area. James stood there for a moment, at a loss for words. The guy was cute, but so were most of the people up here. Add to that, he worked here, so he probably saw hundreds of cute guys every day. And who knew whether he preferred guys or girls. James' hormones raged nearly 24 hours a day, and he was almost getting tired of it.
With a little sigh, he took off in the same direction as the handsome stranger. Walking in these boots was weird, they were so tight. The rental boots had weird metal clips on the side that made walking weird. He'd noticed other `boarders who had a different style shoe, and vowed that if he ever did this again, he'd have a pair.
He made it up the ski area and was amazed at the view from here as well. Up the slope a little bit there were a bunch of people in the same outfits the stranger was wearing, and they were standing under a sign that said "Skiing/Snowboarding School". He made his way up there and got up the nerve to ask one of them where the beginning boarding classes were.
"Over there," the pretty girl said. She was in her early twenties and had her brownish-blond hair in a single ponytail. She was pointing to a sign up the slope a little more. There were about five people gathered around a figure in the same outfit as the girl in front of him. "Mark is the instructor and is just getting ready to start, you better hurry. Lucky for you he was late too"
James thanked her and scooted up the hill as fast as he could. When he got close, he could hear the other students introducing themselves. As he stomped up next to a younger girl who'd just finished saying she her name was Melissa, James stopped dead. The instructor was the same guy he'd just knocked down. The groan escaped James' lips before he realized it, and Mark, the instructor, smiled.
"Nice to meet all of you," he said, with a wicked smile on his beautiful face. "Now that clumsy is here, we can get started."
With no more than that, and without even asking for James' name, he started into his lesson. He started with reviewing the parts of the snowboard, then moved on to how to put the feet on the bindings, and the difference between which foot was first. A few minutes later, he had them doing basic moves to get used to their boards. After that, he had them going down a slight slope with both feet on the board. As expected, James fell first, second, and last. The other kids in the group, all younger than him, had a hard time keeping from laughing.
Finally, everyone was forty feet down the slope except for him. Embarrassment flushed his face and he gave serious thought to just quitting. He'd fallen again, learning why the boots were so stiff as they kept him from twisting his ankle. Angst rose in him and he reached down to release his boot from the binding, giving up.
"Here," said a soft voice above him. James looked up to see Mark standing over him, reaching out with his hand. James accepted it and was soon pulled back upright.
"I think you should switch sides." Mark said softly, only for James' ears.
"Huh?" James said, confused.
"Switch feet in front. Try the right instead of the left," Mark said softly, then bent over to help James do it.
"Thanks," James said softly when it was done. For some reason, it did feel better.
"By the way, I'm Mark as I'm sure you've found out by now. I don't want to call you clumsy anymore, even if it fits. What's yours?"
"James," came out, just as softly.
"Don't worry, James," Mark said. "You're still doing better than I did my first time. I'm sorry for being so rude to you. I was pissed `cause I was late for my first class yesterday too and my boss gets upset about it."
"I'm sorry I made you late again," James said, losing himself in Mark's blue eyes. He was elated to notice that Mark was staring right back at him. He also noticed that Mark appeared to be just a little bit taller.
"Don't worry," Mark said, laughing a little. "Now that they've seen you in action, I'm sure they believe me about being knocked down."
James blushed again and broke the eye contact to look down. It was then he noticed that he'd been standing on the board for a minute or two without even losing his balance! He smiled back at Mark, hoping the instructor had noticed. He had.
"See," Mark said while a smile lit his face. "It's easier if you don't think about it. Now, I want to try something with you. Lock your arms with mine"
The last was said as Mark reached his arms out and James matched with his reaching out. They clasped arms and James thought he heard a mental click in his head. He looked deep into Mark's eyes, almost losing himself in their blue depths. In that moment, he felt what it was like to fall in love.
"Right," Mark said slowly, breaking their eye contact for a moment, staring at James' chin. "Now, we're gonna move slowly downhill, just relax and let it flow."
As they moved, James started to lose his balance. He quickly made eye contact with Mark and regained his balance, letting himself go. Soon they were back with the rest of the students, and Mark moved away for the next part of their lesson. The next few hours passed quickly, and James didn't fall again. By the end, he was actually doing pretty good.
When the class broke up, Mark smiled and moved close in to James with a little fancy move. A soft smile was on his face, and he lifted his goggles back up to the top of his head. He patted James on the shoulder in a friendly way.
"See!" Mark said, his voice conveying pleasure. "It's not that hard once you get used to it."
"Yeah, but I still need some coaching," James said, hoping to hear something positive.
"Wellll," Mark drawled out. "That was my only class for the rest of the morning. Too bad you couldn't hire me out for some 1 on 1."
"Hmmm," James said, drawling the word out too. "Let me check with the grups."
Having said that, he pulled out the small radio his parents had given him. He quickly, and excitedly, told them how his first lesson had gone. They sounded happy, and told him they were just getting ready to start an advanced course. It would be another few hours before they were done. He mentioned that he'd liked it, but still needed lessons before he felt comfortable with going on his own. They suggested he sign up for private lessons for the rest of the morning, then they'd meet him back at the cabin.
"Looks like you're hired," James said when he put the radio back in his pocket.
"Great!" Mark said. "Let's go sign you up for it!"
It took about 10 minutes to get the paperwork done. James decided to pay for it out of his own account. His parents gave him give money for an allowance and he had more than enough to pay for it. He surprised Mark by asking to have him all day instead of just the morning. Always eager for money, the guy at the counter, Mark's boss, readily agreed.
The morning passed in a rush. As it approached time for lunch, James had made great advances in his boarding abilities and almost felt ready to try a more advanced run. However, lunch was approaching and he had to get back down the hill. Mark seemed a little depressed when he mentioned that, and he had a thought.
"Whatcha doing for lunch, bud?" James asked as they made their way back towards the gondola.
"Probably just go back to my room and heat up some chili." Mark said in a monotone quite unlike the excited voice he'd used all morning.
"How about coming with me?" James asked shyly. "My grups are a little weird, but cool people."
"We're not supposed to do stuff like that," Mark said hesitantly, but the gleam in his eyes said he wanted to.
"It's not like we're eating where anyone will see you." James said, praying that this would work. He was definitely interested in Mark. "We're staying at the Ackeman Lodge so it's a private tube from the base of the hill."
"The ACKEMAN lodge!" Mark nearly shouted, causing a few nearby heads to turn. "That's only the most exclusive one here!"
"Don't make such a big deal of it," James said, wishing he hadn't said the name of the lodge. "We are just a minor branch of that family. My dad works for a living running a bunch of manufacturing plants. We have just enough Ackeman blood to qualify for use of the family lodge. Since most Ackemans don't like to ski, it's pretty easy to get in."
"Just a minor branch!" Mark said incredulously. "A direct descendant of the first Mayor, and you try to blow it off."
"Please, don't," James said softly. He went through this every day at school, and hated it coming from Mark. He'd only known the guy for a few hours, but this was not what he wanted. "People think we're something special, or that we have tons of money to hand out. Everyone at school tries to be my friend. Not because they like me, but because of what some stupid ancestor did almost two thousand years ago."
"Sorry," Mark said softly. "I didn't mean to upset you. You just surprised me is all. I like you, a lot. I was hoping we could be friends."
"I want to be friends too," James said, letting himself hope that he'd found a true friend at last. Even if it was only for the week they'd be there. "So, how about lunch?"
"Ok, as long as you make sure I don't get in trouble," Mark said, smiling again.
"No worries there," James said, smiling back. "Sometimes the Ackeman name comes in handy."
"Honey, if you don't get out of bed soon, you're going to be real late for school," his mom's voice rang through the closed door of his bedroom.
"I'll be out in a minute!" James yelled back. With a sigh, he threw the covers off and went to the closet to get dressed. With regret, he put the memories of that glorious week in the snow away and got ready for the return to normal life.
As he put on a pair of black jeans and red t-shirt, he couldn't help remembering that wonderful week once more. His parents had really liked Mark after that lunch, and even hired him for the rest of the week to give James private lessons. By the end of the week, James was up to the intermediate slope and really enjoying himself on the snow. Even more, he found himself enjoying Mark's company a lot. It also seemed that Mark enjoyed his company just as much.
To his surprise, Mark was the same age as him, and in the same grade. James had found out that Mark lived nearly a thousand miles from James' hometown in a place called Hebron. James lived in Caledonia, which was the regional capital. By the time the week ended, they moved from friendship to something more, sneaking a few kisses each night before Mark went back to his dormitory. The last day, there'd actually been a few tears in both their eyes, and many promises to keep in touch.
Three weeks later, they'd managed to call or message each other a few times a week, learning more and more about each other. To James, it was the best time of his life, and the worst. Then, last week, Mark said he couldn't correspond for a while, but he would as soon as he could. James had grown more and more depressed as that week went by, and school became more and more a reality. When his parents asked what was wrong, he'd told them and been comforted about there always being more people out there for him to meet.
Now, that dreaded day was here. School. He'd take the public transportation, as usual. His parents could have arranged private transport, but they wanted to make him learn what it was like for people without the Ackeman name, or Ackeman money. He hated it, but this was one thing they refused to budge on.
Dressed, he made sure he had his ID badge and went downstairs. He kissed his mom goodbye and drank down the orange juice she held out to him. As he left the house sullenly she shouted, "Have a good day, love!" and he did his best to ignore it.
On time, the public transport settled down on the corner just down from his house. Being a little late, James had to run to catch it in time. He rushed on the transport, a little winded from running the half block and came face to face with his latest nemesis. Zeran Marsters was a jock, played rugby on the school team and loved to make James' life hell. The fact that he was a full head taller than James, and twice as wide made it almost impossible for James to fight him off.
"Lookie at this!" Zeran said with a sneer in his voice. "Little James got himself a redburn during break!"
James groaned aloud. All the time on the slopes had resulted in a wonderfully tanned face and neck which stood out in the pale faces of the rest of his classmates. To make matters worse, Zeran started play-slapping James in the face, just stinging enough to re-awaken the light burn from the sun. Zeran moved slightly to acknowledge a laugh from one of the other kids on the transport, and James chose that moment to slip into a seat and turn on the privacy bubble. That would keep Zeran out, at least till the transport reached school.
The rest of the journey to school was made in silence for James, his face still stinging from Zeran's treatment. He let his mind wander, thought about Mark, and realized how lonely he was. Maybe he'd get to talk to Mark tonight. As the transport reached the school, James dropped the privacy field and rushed off and hurried towards his homeroom.
It was the same homeroom as last season. On the way, he shrugged off the overly friendly greetings of a few girls, ignored the dirty looks from some jocks, and tried to keep out of sight of any `toadies' as he called them. He'd rather have to deal with Zeran than the group who thought he'd make them rich if they kissed his butt enough.
He made it safely to homeroom and lodged himself in a seat at the far end of the room. He immediately turned on the computer in the desk and logged on to the nets to review his class schedule. He didn't really need to read it, but it kept his head down and provided an air of business to keep others away. He lost track of time until he heard the homeroom monitor start to call roll. His name had always been first for the last few years and he was surprised when his name wasn't the first called. The name that was called surprised him even more.
"Ablard, Mark," the monitor called in her light voice.
"Here," said that familiar, and longed for voice. It came from the seat right next to him! Slowly, James turned his head to the right, not daring to hope that Mark really was there.
"Ackeman, James," the monitor said, without James even hearing. He was lost in Mark's deep blue eyes and grinning like a thirsty man at an oasis. The monitor repeated his name again, and again he didn't answer. Finally, she walked over to James and bent down into his face and called his name again.
"Um, here!" James nearly shouted in surprise, looking at her a moment and then returning to Mark. `How?' he asked by gesture and shrug of the shoulder.
`Later,' Mark replied with a wave of his hand, parallel to the floor, and mouthing the word.
The rest of homeroom passed slowly, and quickly at the same time. He couldn't wait to talk to Mark as soon as it was over so it passed slowly, but he spent the entire time watching Mark, who was watching him the same way. That made it seem like only a few seconds before the buzzer announced the end of the session.
James ignored the murmurs passing around the room as he and Mark raced for the doorway. As soon as they were in the hallway, they flew to the other side, opposite the door, and ended up with James pinned against the wall between Mark's hands, which were resting on the same wall. Both of them were grinning like fools as Mark leaned in and pressed his lips against James' in a soft, but passionate kiss. James turned the tables by opening his mouth slightly and snaking his tongue into Mark's.
"Would you look at that!" sneered Zeran, bringing them both back to the reality of where they were. "Looks like pansy boy found himself a toy to play with!" "You must be Zeran," Mark sneered as he turned around from James. James tried to grab his arm, but he was shrugged off. "I've heard about you, big rugby player, right?"
"Yeah, what's it to you?" Zeran said, suddenly feeling defensive from Mark's tone. James was cringing inside. Mark was here, lords know how, and he was standing up to Zeran.
"Simple, really. Leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone," Mark said calmly.
"Ha!" Zeran snorted loudly. "Why should I worry about what you want, puny?"
"Don't push, and you'll never find out," Mark said softly. A crowd had formed around them and a teacher noticed, breaking things up before they got really interesting. James was happy for that, but dreading the ride home already, and he still hadn't gotten to his first class.
"I'm gonna be late!" he told Mark, torn between not wanting to be late for class, and wanting to be with Mark.
"No worries, I'm willing to bet you've got Ackeland History with Mr. Taysom. Right?" Mark said, smiling as he reached down and grabbed James' hand in a tight grip.
"You're kidding!" James shouted. "We've got the same history class too?"
"Yep, and every class the same except for math. You've got something called Calculus, and I've got regular Advanced Algebra."
"Ha!" James laughed as he led Mark, hand in hand, to their next class. "I have a feeling my parents had something to do with this."
"Probably," Mark said, smiling a little. "About two weeks ago, my dad told me he'd gotten a job with ACM Chemicals. He'd applied three months ago, gone to the interview, and they called him up, offering the job. Twice as much salary as he's making now, only thing is we had to move within a few weeks. They even helped us buy a new home!"
"ACM is one of the companies my dad manages directly. It's his pride and joy," James said slowly, not sure if he liked this or not.
"I know," Mark said softly, smiling. "My dad started work last week, while mom and I were finishing up the move. He came home from work that day and we had dinner at our new house. It was weird. Mom asked him how work was."
They reached the next classroom and stood outside for a moment. The bell would be ringing any minute now, but James had to hear this. "So, what did he say?"
"Hehe," Mark laughed softly, turning to face James. "He turned and looked right at me and said `I got introduced to the big boss today. Tomas Ackeman himself! He walks right up to my office, and breezes in, introducing himself. I didn't know what to say.'
`I'm glad you were able to make the move and take this job, Mr. Ablard. I figured any man able to raise a son as good as Mark had to be the type of supervisor I wanted for my Research and Development unit,' your dad said.
Excuse me?' my dad said, confused. How do you know my Mark?'
"Your dad laughed," Mark said. "See, I told my parents about you, and meeting your family and everything, but I left out your last name. So your dad told mine the full story of that week from his perspective. Then he mentioned that he'd asked the principal to put us in the same classes wherever possible. We're all supposed to meet at your place for dinner tonight."
"I'm gonna get them for this," James said, laughing. "They did this just to surprise me!"
"Yup," Mark said as the bell rang. They hurried into the class, still holding hands and stopped dead when the teacher looked at them. He was not alone, and the class was full with all the other students already sitting down. Standing next to the slight, brown haired Mr. Taysom was a man dressed in the uniform of the Guardians, ancient wardens of Ackeland.
"Mr. Ackeman," Mr. Taysom said in a stern voice. James' name caused the eyebrows on the Guardian to rise a little. "If you and your, uh, friend would find seats, we can get started here."
James and Mark moved towards seats in the back of the room. Fortunately, there were two right next to each other. When they were seated, Mr. Taysom nodded towards the Guardian and left the room, surprising everyone.
"Greetings, students," the strange Guardian said, a smile on his face. "I am Guardian P'tel. Your lesson this week is being taught by me as it deals directly with the nature of the Guardians, and our role in Ackeland. Now, I don't really know any of you, yet, so I will be using the roll sheet to ask questions. First, hmmm, interesting name here, Mr. Ackeman. What is your impression of the role the Guardians play in Ackeland?"
James blushed again, but felt encouraged when Mark placed his hand on James' arm. A quick look at Mark's blue eyes and wavy blond hair gave him enough strength to answer. "Guardians are the first line of defense against the Shapers' Republic and the Southern Alliance. Ever since the dissolution of our treaty with the Southerners a thousand years ago, they've been the only thing keeping us from being overwhelmed."
"That's one answer," the Guardian said slowly. "Andrea Tellthack, do you have anything to add?"
"Um, Guardians also heal people and help out with other things that are needed around the country. And create new lands," Andrea said. She was a bright eyed, blond headed girl who'd had a crush on James for years, and was now staring daggers at Mark.
"All true" P'tel said. "Yet, none really touch on the core of what it means to be a Guardian. From the markings on my sleeves, you can tell that I've been a Guardian now for about two hundred years. The average age of Guardians is somewhere around three hundred. Head Guardian B'rel is the oldest known Guardian at 1,500.
"What does age have to do with being a Guardian, or what it means to be one? See, this is the hardest part of the Guardians' role in Ackeland. The fact that we live as long as we do means that we often see those that we love grow old and die, while we continue on. As we grow older, this happens more and more.
"Our dedication to Ackeland is first and foremost to the people who live here. We have pledged ourselves to safeguard you from those outside our land, and to provide you with services that are needed here. These include healing, creating new power plants, and shaping land for habitation. Now, I have another question for you, um, Mark Ablard, what is the current population of Ackeland?"
"Six hundred and thirty-eight million people." Mark replied readily.
"Right!" P'tel said "Now, how many Guardians are there?"
This time Mark sat there, a look of consternation on his face. James knew Mark hated not being able to answer a question, and this one had him stumped. After a few minutes of silence, he finally shrugged his shoulders and said he didn't know.
"It's not exactly a state secret," P'tel said with a smile. "But then again, it's not something talked about too often. At the current time, there are four hundred and thirty-two. There is at least one assigned to every major city in Ackeland, and part of our duties is teaching these classes at schools. Do you think there are enough of us to go around, Mr. Preckler?"
"N...nn..no," Preckler said. He was a crony of Zeran and had been shooting weird looks at James and Mark the entire class, but was now staring at the Guardian.
"For those wondering, there hasn't been a new Guardian found in the last century, and our numbers continue to dwindle at the rate of one or two a century," P'tel continued.
"Why is that?" James wondered aloud.
"Very good question, Mr. Ackeman. If my memory serves, you are the son of Tomas Ackeman?" P'tel asked, and James nodded. "I remember your father pretty well. I gave his class the same lesson when he was your age, and he asked a very similar question.
"The short answer to that is that we grow tired. Losing friends every couple of decades makes it tough. When we can't stand it anymore, we choose to cease our existence. It's not pretty, and it's final. Unfortunately, we've lost more people in the last few centuries than we've gained."
"Is that what happened to J'Stan?" Mark asked quietly.
"No one knows what happened to J'Stan. He and his husband, Adam Morgan, disappeared after the Europa Incident and have not been seen since then. It's hoped that one day they will return, but no one knows anymore."
"What really happened after the Europa Incident?" James asked quietly. "I mean, the history books give a basic overview, and there are vids all over about it, but no real details."
"Actually, that's a good question, and since it is a long story that really starts centuries before the Europa colony was established, I'll be telling it to you for the next few days. Since it's also the causal factor in our political situation today, it's usually a focus for this week-long section of your week-long course," P'tel answered, his voice heavy. Just as he finished, the bell rang and students got up to leave, all of them bowing slightly to the Guardian as they passed.
Of course, James and Mark were the last two to leave the room since they were in the back. James bowed his head a little, and Mark followed suit. The Guardian smiled at them, then got a weird look on his face as they passed. They were at the door when his voice caused them stop.
"Wait a moment, boys," P'tel said softly, but firmly. When they turned to face him, the door slammed shut behind them, causing them to jump a little. "I want to talk to the two of you alone. Have you been tested?"
"Tested?" Mark asked quietly.
"Yes, tested for the ability to be a Guardian, for the gift that makes us Guardians."
"I have, but there was nothing there according to Guardian T'lara," James said quietly.
"Me too, same thing," Mark said shortly.
"Weird," P'tel said. "When you passed me there, I thought I felt an echo like I do from other Guardians. Sorry. Also, James, please tell your father I said hello. I'd appreciate seeing him again sometime."
"Will do, Guardian," James said quickly. "I didn't know he knew any Guardians."
"He's an Ackeman, as are you," P'tel said. "Ackemans have been the backbone of Ackeland since its beginning. Even the `lesser' bloodlines like your dad describes himself to be. He does a good job at running his companies, keeping people employed and making valuable products for the economy. It may not be the same as President of the Collegium, but it's a valuable contribution. Something to be proud of."
"I don't know about that," James said. "We just do what can, and try to treat people right."
"The trademark of the Ackemans," P'tel said with a little laugh. "Head Guardian B'rel was my mentor and he told me one time that J'Stan was the head of the Ackeman line, father to Alan Ackeman himself!"
"That's not something in the history books!" Mark exclaimed.
"No, it's something long forgotten. In the aftermath of the Europa Incident, when many blamed J'Stan for pushing the human race too far, too fast, some revision of history took place. Guardians know, but it's not our place to fret over minor details of history. So long as the heart and soul of the Charter is held to."
"It must be weird to look at things from your perspective," James said thoughtfully.
"Yeah," Mark agreed. "Living longer must really change your outlook. Hell, just the last few weeks since I met James here have changed my outlook a lot."
"Really?" James said, turning to face Mark, a smile on his face.
"Yes," Mark said slowly, losing himself in James' eyes. "I, I love you."
"I love you too!" James shouted, his face a study in joy. They wrapped their arms around each other and kissed. They had totally forgotten the Guardian in the room until he cleared his throat.
"Sorry," James said, a little embarrassed.
"Nothing to be sorry about," P'tel said gently. "Love is something to be enjoyed. I made the mistake of falling in love with someone who wasn't a Guardian. We lived together for nearly a century before he died. It was the best time of my life. In fact, he was your grandfather's brother, James."
"Wow, I never knew that," James said.
"That's how I knew your father. I've lost contact with him over the last few years and I've been meaning to look him up since my transfer here last month, but haven't had the time."
"Then why don't you come over for dinner tonight?" James said, acting on instinct.
"Yeah!" Mark said. "My family is gonna be there too. I think our parents are acting as matchmakers."
"That's for sure," James agreed.
"Ok, in fact, I'll take you two home," P'tel said. "Meet me in the foyer at the school entrance after last bell."
"Done," James said. "I'm just going to tell Dad that I have invited a guest for dinner, not who. Is that ok?"
"Sure," P'tel said. "See you then. There's students piling up at the door, and Mr. Taysom too. I've got a few more classes to go through today too." With that the door opened and a flood of people, led by Mr. Taysom, flooded through the room. James and Mark pushed their way through on their way to the next class.
The rest of the day passed quickly for them. The one class they had separately was the only one that took an eternity. Lunch was spent in a corner of the cafeteria, quietly talking to each other, the rest of the school blotted out from their awareness. Neither noticed the looks other students gave them, or would have cared if they had. One student stared longer and harder than any others, Zeran.
By the end of the day, they were even more excited than they had been that morning. The only time they hadn't been holding hands during the day was in their separate classes and when they had to take notes in class. They'd even gone to the bathroom holding hands. By now, the entire school was aware that the two were a couple, and rumors were flying.
Both remembered they had agreed to meet P'tel, and James had even remembered (after Mark reminded him) to call his dad and tell him about the other guest. Neither of them noticed the shadow by the entrance to the foyer until a blur jumped out as they passed it. Zeran had been hiding there, and jumped out from the alcove and pushed James to the floor.
As James went skidding, Zeran turned to Mark and swung his fist with all his might. "Feel some pain, boylover!" he shouted.
To his surprise, Mark knocked his blow aside and lashed out with a kick. Zeran doubled over as his breath was knocked out by the kick to his solar plexus. Mark's swing connected with his chin and he joined James on the floor, still doubled over.
"I wouldn't try that again," Mark said softly, helping James back to his feet. James' dark hair was disarrayed, but he was staring at Mark with wonderment. "Next time I won't be so gentle."
"It's always good to see someone defend themselves from a bully," a voice from the corridor said. Both boys looked up to see the Guardian standing there, hands on hips. Next to him was the principal of the school
"Come with me, Zeran," the principal said angrily. Zeran may be his nephew, but a Guardian's attention meant that this could not be overlooked. "I'll take your sides of the story later, the Guardian says you have an appointment with him that can't wait."
As the principal left with Zeran in tow, still gripping his stomach, James turned to the Guardian, not sure if he was grateful or upset.
"Bullies must be dealt with," P'tel said softly. "They can be good people, if dealt with right. Otherwise they are a waste of flesh. Come on, let's go."
P'tel gathered them in close to him and told them to relax. He had James focus his mind on the front porch of their modest home. Next thing they knew, they were standing on that porch. As P'tel took his hands off their shoulders he gave them another weird look.
"Weird," he told them, making the hair on James' neck stand up. "I felt that echo again, but detected nothing that would indicate you are gifted. Maybe I'm just feeling on edge. It's been a rough few months."
"Come on in," James said, leading the way through the door, brushing off the Guardian's comments. They made their way inside, and James called out for his parents. Both were in the kitchen, since Dad always loved to help cook when he could. The three rounded the corner, and James saw two strange adults with his parents. They must have been Mark's parents, which Mark confirmed by saying, "Hi Mom! Hi Dad"
James' dad was getting something out of the refrigerator and started talking as he straightened up "So, who's the mystery guest you're bringing home from school..." he stopped in midsentence as he turned and saw the Guardian. The bottle of wine slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor, only to stop just before crashing. P'tel held his hand out and the bottle floated into it.
"Geez, Tomas," P'tel said with a laugh. "After thirty years or so, I'd thought you'd have become less clumsy!"
James' dad let out a shout of joy and rushed to wrap P'tel in a great hug. P'tel returned the hug, and James could see tears glinting in his mom's eyes. This reaction made him even more curious. There was something here.
"P'tel!" Tomas Ackeman cried. "Where have you been all these years? We've missed you, and you come home with my James and his friend?"
"You know I took that assignment out-country after Terrence died. I needed to get away. Well, I just got back a year ago and B'rel sent me here as the City Guardian. You were on vacation when I got here and I've been a little busy since then. James was in the class I taught today."
"Oh," James' dad said, holding P'tel at arms' length. "I forgot this was the year he's gone through that. That means I'll have to have the Ackeman talk with him now."
Suddenly he realized Mark and his family were there, all standing around with looks of astonishment on their faces. He looked at them and then looked at James for a long time. He had that look on his face that James knew meant he was making a hard decision.
"Son," he said to James, the tone of his voice putting steel into James' spine. "How do you feel about Mark?"
"I, uh, Mom, Dad, I love him," James said quietly, not sure how the adults were going to react.
"Mark," James' dad said, turning to James' love. "How do you feel about my son?"
"I, uh, I love him too," Mark said, looking at his parents' faces, not sure how they'd react.
"P'tel?" James' dad said, making the name a question.
"Well, I only met them today, but we did teleport here. You know that means a basic rapport. It's not puppy love. They click, belong together as surely as you and your wife did when you met. Just like I can see when I look at Mark's parents," P'tel answered the unspoken question.
"I know this is a little fast, Janet, John," Tomas Ackeman said to Mark's parents. "But from what P'tel said these two will be together for a long, long time. I know when I met Helen, she was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I don't think any of us have any prejudices about man-man love, but if you do, speak now."
"I think I speak for both of us," John Ablard said, looking at his wife and getting a nod, "when I say that Mark's happiness is what is most important to us. We just hope he adopts some kids so we can have grandchildren!"
"Dad!" Mark exclaimed. "I'm not even sixteen yet!"
"Good," Tomas Ackeman said. "Why don't we all go into the dining room and have a conversation that needs to be done. Dinner will be done about the time we're done."
The seven of them moved into the dining room and took places at the table. James' dad appeared to be gathering himself for what he was about to say, and curiosity was eating up everyone else except P'tel and James' mom.
"What I'm about to discuss here amounts to a State Secret. It's something only known to select government officials, and to the Ackeman family. Mark, John, Janet, due to Mark's budding relationship with my son, you're family now. Some of the things I will tell you will upset James and Mark, as well as yourselves. James will want to talk about it with someone besides us, and Mark would likely be that person. Mark may want to talk about it with you. Instead of swearing just James, or just James and Mark to secrecy, I'm only going to ask that you keep it within the family. This way the secret is more likely to stay secret, and not eat any of you up inside."
"I think we understand," John Ablard said, looking at his wife and son. "We'll only talk about it with each other, and only where we can't be overheard."
"I don't doubt that, or I wouldn't be sharing," Tomas said. He then took a deep breath. "It all comes back to the Europa Incident. I assume all of you are familiar with the basic story of the loss of our space colonies?
"Good," he continued when all four (James included) nodded. "Something that is not in any of the histories or vids is that J'Stan did not just disappear after things settled down. Both he and Adam returned to New Phoenix by teleport after the loss of the Europa colony. Just like the history says, Guardian B'rel took the survivors and his ship back as fast as he could, and arrived in the second week of the debate in the Ackeland Council (as the Collegium was then called).
"He had just teleported down to the Council Chambers when a message was received and transmitted into the Council Chambers. The message was from a Shaper calling himself D'vad, who appeared to be an old acquaintance of J'Stan. The Shaper threatened to do the same thing to New Phoenix as he'd done to Europa and the other colonies unless J'Stan surrendered to him.
"The Council debated for days after the message was received. There was a deadline set and on the last day of the deadline, the Council was split evenly on what to do. J'Stan decided to take matters into his own hands. He disappeared with Adam Morgan. Both of them had been extremely devastated by their defeat at the colonies, and did not want to see the same thing happen again.
"He left a message for B'rel, and the head of the Ackeman family of that time. In the message, he said that the two of them were going away, and they were doing it in such a way that should draw D'vad away from Earth. They promised to return when they could, and to watch over Ackeland while they were gone.
"Here's the sensitive part. One of the reasons P'tel has been gone for so long is that we send agents over to the Shapers' Republic and Southern Alliance. Those agents have reported that D'vad has returned and usurped the leadership of the Republic from Paolo Zindel.
"We've also lost several Guardian Agents in the last few years. War is imminent. We are gathering forces, quietly preparing Ackeland as we can, but our family hasn't been in government leadership in centuries. Instead we are working behind the scenes to prepare readiness if it's needed.
"As one of the least visible members of the Ackeman family, many of the responsibilities for this preparation have fallen to me. Son, and Mark, as you grow older you will be expected to help out in the preparations. You're old enough to know about it now, and old enough to start learning what we are doing so you'll be ready to assume a leadership position when you are old enough.
"Mark, you are included in this because it looks like you love my son. My wife has been a big help to me over the years, and I could not imagine forcing my son to keep this from you. Even if you do nothing more than hold him and listen to him vent when he needs to, you are being a big help."
"Actually, you might be surprised," P'tel interrupted. "Mark appears to be able to handle himself very well."
"I'm not sure I can do this, Dad," James said. "You know I don't like violence, and preparing for it seems too weird."
"It's more than that, Son, which is why we'll start with showing you about the shelters, medical supplies, etc. We'll work our way up to more stuff later."
"WAIT!" P'tel shouted, a look of concentration forming on his face. "Tomas, turn the viewer to channel 336.53."
James' dad leaped up from the table and turned the viewer at the end of the dining room to the specified channel. Immediately the wall turned opaque and images formed on it. A man in Guardian's uniform was speaking from the deck of one of the great airships Ackeland owned. Behind him, in the distance, could be seen the square black and red sails of at least two Shapers' Republic airships.
"I say again, this is the Ackeland AirShip Duty. We are under attack by Shaper skirmishers. The Airship Saints has already been destroyed. Guardian C'raden was onboard and I felt his death! I don't know if we can escape. There is a flotilla behind the skirmishers. About 40 ships, mostly transports, make up the flotilla. There are about 20 more skirmishers running interference for them. Each ship has at least one Shaper, and several have more. We are outgunned. Their course seems to indicate a landing on the Caledonia shore. We..."
The transmission ended just as a fireball was seen hitting the stern of the airship, breaking through the shield the Guardian had erected. As they sat staring on the screen, Tomas Ackeland turned to his son and lamented, "Son, it looks like you're not going to have time to get used to the idea. War is here."
The next few weeks were a blur. Guardians poured into Caledonia by the dozens, until they numbered 54. The Ackeman home turned into the main war room, and the Governor appointed Tomas Ackeman War Leader and charged him with coordinating the defense of the City. A squadron of Ackeland Airships in a suicide attack on the enemy flotilla had delayed the immediate attack. Every Guardian on the twelve ships had been lost, but they'd driven the Shaper ships to land a hundred miles north of Caledonia shoreline.
Caledonia had gone from peace to a war footing in a matter of days. Under the leadership of James' dad, the Militia had grown from three hundred strong to almost ten thousand. Every volunteer over the age of 15 was allowed to join. Trainers appeared with the Guardians to teach the volunteers the basics of fighting with blasters, and moving as a team.
Three weeks after that fateful message, battle was joined. Guardians countered the attacks by Shapers, but were able to do little in attacks of their own. The ten thousand troops outnumbered the Shaper army, but were largely untrained and inexperienced while the Shaper army was well trained and more experienced.
In a matter of days after battle was joined, the Militia was pushed back to the edge of Caledonia itself. Attacks by cannons on the airship had knocked down all the communication towers and the Ackeman home was under attack by the Shapers with their army. With their communication to command knocked out, the Militia lines were broken and fighting broke out street by street in the city.
Mark had been given command of a reserve squad near the northern section. His skill at fighting, and natural leadership had earned him the position. James had learned basic first aid and gotten himself assigned as the medic for Mark's unit. Most of the soldiers in the unit were their age, and the fear on their faces seemed overwhelming as the sound of combat grew closer.
Mark had deployed them to ambush any forces that tried to pass through the main boulevard in this section. His troops were spread out among buildings, the best shots positioned as snipers. The other troops with heavier weaponry were assigned to positions that could intercept counterattacks against the snipers. As the sound of fighting got closer and closer, Mark visited each trooper's position, James tagging along, to provide support.
Both of them were scared, but Mark as their leader and James as an Ackeman resolved to not show it. When smoke and blasts from weapons were visible to the north, they reached their own positions and settled in. Here, where they couldn't be seen by their troops, they looked in each other's eyes and saw the fear there.
"I love you," Mark said after letting himself float in James' brown eyes. He leaned in and shared a kiss with his love. They still hadn't gone further than kissing and hugging each other all night in bed, and now may never go further. It didn't matter though, all that mattered was their love for each other.
Their kiss, and whatever else they may have had to say was cut short by the sound of soldiers appearing down the street. "Don't fire!" Mark ordered into the short range radio his unit used.
The troops were militia forces being driven back. As they watched, the militia troops broke into a run down the wide boulevard, struggling to reach the safety of the next corner. They didn't know Mark's unit was there, and never got the chance to find out. A battle tank roared around the corner they had come from, firing continuously from its main and auxiliary cannons. Ground troops followed it, joining their deadly fire to its great cannons.
The survivors of the Militia unit were cut down before they'd gone another step. Seeing all resistance crushed, the Shaper troops moved further down the street and passed the last smoking remains of the doomed Militia troops. Mark whispered encouragement to his unit, keeping them from fleeing while James vomited quietly at his side.
Soon, the battle tank entered the kill zone and it was time. Taking a deep breath, Mark closed his eyes and left childhood behind forever. "Charlie team, take aim on the tank and fire."
Charlie team had a heavy blaster cannon that could penetrate the tank's armor. It was too heavy to move easily, and had to br fired with a tripod mount to handle the kickback. The running troops hadn't had this firepower, but Mark did.
As Charlie team let loose with a long blast from the heavy cannon, the snipers Mark had positioned opened fire as well. Their shots prevented the troops with the tank from flanking Charlie team, and the fire support teams kept the snipers from being taken out. Mark realized something was wrong though when the tank failed to explode before the heavy cannon shut down from heat overload.
The tank was protected by some type of shield! It wasn't a normal shield either. Mark had seen similar shields over the last few days. There must be a Shaper in that tank! His assumption was confirmed when a figure in the shape of a man stepped out of the tank by walking through it.
The figure, dressed in the blue and white of a Shaper's uniform, pointed at Charlie team's location and fire erupted from his fingers, engulfing Charlie team. Their death screams, and the smell of burnt flesh filled Mark's senses, and his unit disintegrated around him. The tank was firing now, picking off the Militia team as they fled.
Tears filled Mark's eyes. It wasn't fair! His plan was perfect, except for the Shaper ruining it all. He hadn't known these people as long as James had. They were mostly from James' high school. James was white faced beside him, his face showing that he knew their deaths were only moments away. Mark decided he wouldn't die like this, cowering behind rubble, or running away. With a scream, he drew his sidearm, stood up and fired at the form of the Shaper.
The bright blue beam of his blaster hit the Shaper in the chest...and splashed harmlessly there. The Shaper looked at him, saw his youth, and laughed. "My, my. Look at this child," he said to the troops forming back up behind the tank.
"Die, you bastard!" Mark yelled, pulling the trigger on his blaster again, just as the Shaper waved his hand, causing the blaster to fly out of Mark's grip. James was still crouched down, staring up at his lover with fear and admiration warring on his face.
"It's not that easy to kill a god, boy," the Shaper said.
"You're no god!" Mark retorted hotly, flexing his hands and trying to decide if he could get close enough to hit the..the thing standing there.
"Heresy!" the Shaper laughed. "That's why we're here though. To wipe out the Heresy started by your false gods, these Guardians. Tell you what. Tell me where the arch-demon J'Stan is hiding and I'll let you live to worship me.
"J'Stan? He's been gone for a thousand years! What makes you think he's here?" Mark responded, trying to buy time. Maybe if he stalled long enough, James could get away.
"You don't know anything. Too bad, you'd have made a good fuck toy," the Shaper said, lifting his hand. Mark could see the fire starting to form on the hand and closed his eyes while whispering his love to James.
James had been listening to the whole conversation, a thousand thoughts and feelings running through his mind. This is what it felt like to be on the edge of death, on the brink of the great abyss. He was frozen in fear, and wonderment at the feeling running through him. Mark seemed crazy, and the bravest human being on the earth at the same time. He knew Mark was willing him to try to sneak away while he stalled them, but James just couldn't leave his love's side.
The Shaper's words called something up inside him. Adam was in danger! No, Mark! Awareness flooded through him as the danger became more real with the fire forming on the Shaper's hand. Time slowed into nothing as he remembered. Remembered everything.
J'Stan stood from the hiding place he'd been in, still wearing the form of James Ackeman. He looked at the Shaper who was just now launching the fire at Mark. A shield sprung up, protecting Mark, and J'Stan stepped beside his lover.
Mark was staring at him, as if seeing him for the first time. His blond hair was streaked with dirt, but still shone with the reflected firelight as the fire was deflected by J'Stan's shield. The Shaper let the fire die out and turned to face what appeared to him to be another young man.
"Give it up, boy," the Shaper said. "You're obviously too new to your powers to stand against me for long. Surrender now, swear obedience, and you will one day be allowed to join our number."
"I don't think so," J'Stan said as he obliterated the troops and tank that had been supporting the Shaper. The man flinched at the explosions threw tanks and body parts all over the street. Mark flinched too, and was staring at James with even more astonishment, and love. The love was still there!
"Where's David?" J'Stan asked the Shaper.
"David!" the Shaper exclaimed. "Only J'Stan would call the great D'vad by that name! You're him."
The Shaper started to form a thought to tell his fellows his discovery when J'Stan obliterated him with a thought. He closed off the small black hole before it could do more than suck in the Shaper and some surrounding debris. When he was done, he turned back to his love. His brown hair was streaked with dirt, and other things, and he shook his head to dislodge some of it.
"Love," he told the blond-haired young man standing there, a look of astonishment on his face.
"You, you're really him, aren't you?" Mark asked in a whisper.
"Yes, but you knew that," J'Stan answered calmly.
"I did?" Mark said, confusion warring on his face.
"Yes, Adam, you did," J'Stan said, reaching out and releasing the mental block Adam had put on himself. Only J'Stan had the key to do it. Well, J'Stan and Adam himself.
"Oh, yeah," Adam said softly, their bond returning to full strength as his memory returned.
"Let's stay like this for a bit, shall we?" J'Stan said softly. "I like you being the blond one."
"Amazing how we turned out, isn't it?" Adam asked softly.
"You won that bet, though. Who'd have thought we would meet up after all? We picked families thousands of miles apart, not related, not even connected through work."
"I told you, we were fated to be lovers, period. Nothing we do will ever change that," Adam said, running a finger along J'Stan's young jaw.
"Yeah, at least I found out that Alan's line is still strong and good. Makes me feel good to know how good they really are. And Tomas is the spitting image of Alan. Makes me want to hug him like he's my son. Then the part of me that's James wants to curl up in his arms and cry. Weird."
"I told ya, love. We made these ourselves. Both the mothers were barren and wouldn't have produced children naturally. They got kids, and we got a new childhood. But the people we were are as much a part of us now as we are of each other," Adam said in his best teaching tone.
"Enough yakking, love," J'Stan said, concentrating for a moment. "I count 38 Shapers still alive, and 15 Guardians left. Shall we even the odds?"
"Of course," Adam said. "I really hate this part, but let's do it."
Together the two of them disappeared and set about decimating the ranks of Shapers.
Author's Note -- The opening part of this chapter originally had Mark/Adam transferring to school and meeting James/J'Stan there. After a weekend in Tahoe, I just couldn't help adding the ski resort as the meeting place. I just wish I'd done half as good at my snowboarding lesson...but I'll be back next season!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!