Roachia 02 Home By Sunset

by Cindy Combs

  "While I buy your ticket," Dillon told him, "I want you to get something to drink. You look like you could use it."

  So after Dillon left, Blair studied the selections, slipped in the coins and pressed a button. A juice box wiggled itself loose and fell into the tray. Picking it up and pushing the tab, Blair took a deep drink. It tasted so good, and it did make him feel better. He sat on a bench in the area, swinging his legs as he studied the other machines in the room. It felt good not to be standing on his feet anymore.

  A few minutes later, Dillon came back. "One ticket to Harbor Bay."

  Blair gave him a wide smile as he handed over a few bills and the stamps. Dillon then gave him the ticket. He ran his finger along the cardboard. 'Harbor Bay' was inked across the top, with the date and time stamped below it. Blair felt hope rise in his chest.

  Meanwhile, Dillon studied the stamps. "These are beautiful. Very intricate artwork. Thanks." He turned back to study the boy. "Don't you have any other clothes?"

  Blair looked up and shook his head.

  "Well, people are going to wonder with you looking like you've been rolling through the mud," Dillon explained. "I don't think you want a lot of questions?" Blair shook his head. Dillon reached for his pack. Pulling out a T-shirt, he stood up. "Let's head for the bathroom."

  Half an hour later, they exited the bathroom. Blair's face, hands and arms were clean, his hair washed and slicked back. Even though Dillon's shirt hung loosely, it too was clean.

  "Much better," Dillon commented, looking Blair over again. "Your pants are still dirty, but that's not as noticeable with the long T-shirt." He sat Blair down again. "Now, when you get on the bus, go to the top deck. The drivers don't like hiking up there, so they should leave you alone." Blair nodded, absorbing the information. "Keep to yourself and stay on the bus until they say 'Harbor Bay stop'. That way, you don't get off at the wrong place or get left at a stop because you don't get back in time. You're also less likely to get noticed. Grab some food and drink boxes here, so you won't need to get any during the trip. Now, do you know where your father lives?"

  "Harbor Bay," Blair replied.

  Dillon barely kept the smile off his face. "Harbor Bay is a big place. Do you know his name?" Blair nodded vigorously. "Okay, come here a minute." Dillon led him to a small table with a comm system. "See this book? It lists everyone who has a comm link in Davenport. There will be one at the Harbor Bay station, too. Look up your father's name, and it will give you his address." Dillon pointed to one in the book as an example. "Just find the street, and you'll find your father. Got it?"

  "Got it," Blair replied. It now felt like finding his father would be an easy task, thanks to Dillon.

  "Okay, why don't you get your food," Dillon waved at the machines, "and I'll get my package. Then I'll take you to where the bus will pick you up."

  "Okay," Blair merrily agreed. He walked over to the wonderful machines. Counting his coins, Blair carefully made his choices. By the time he was done and had packed his satchel, Dillon had returned, a brown, paper-wrapped package tucked under his arm. "Let's go, kid. The bus will be here soon."

  Scurrying after the teen, Blair double-checked that the precious ticket was in his hand. He was surprised to see that there were more people milling about. Dillon led him across the wide expanse of tile floor over to the windows along the side. They had just reached them when a huge red bus pulled along side the curb.

  "Here it is." Dillon waved at the bus with his hand. "Your ride to Harbor Bay."

  "Thank you!" Blair replied. He bounced into line, handed the ticket to the driver who barely glanced at him, and scurried into the bus. On the steps, he turned back and waved at the teen who had helped him.

  Dillon watched the bus pull out with the youngster safely aboard. "Good luck finding your father, kid," he whispered. "I just wish I knew who mine was." The teen turned away, heading back to the lonely boarding house.

  That night, Express bus

  Wrapped up in his blanket and tucked against the window, Blair dozed contentedly. Everything seemed to be going well. After dining on chips, dried fruit, and a juice box, his stomach had finally settled down. He would be in Harbor Bay by tomorrow morning, and would have hopefully found his father by tomorrow night. He would have fulfilled his promise and maybe have someplace to stay that was warm, safe, and dry. Fantasizing about what his father looked like and how he'd react, Blair drifted off to sleep.

  The suspicious stares from one of the other passengers went unnoticed by the tired boy. Several hours into the ride, the passenger made his way down to the lower level and the bus driver.

  Next morning, Express station, Harbor Bay

  "HARBOR BAY STOP."

  Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Blair picked up his blanket and satchel. He walked down the aisle and trudged down the steps, trying to keep from yawning. His stomach was demanding breakfast, but Blair figured he's just find some more of those wonderful machines. There was still a little change left in the hand purse.

  Deep in his thoughts, Blair hadn't realized he was in trouble until gloved hands grabbed his arms. He was pulled roughly away from the other bus passengers. A man with his face covered in a mask yelled, "You're from Claria, aren't you?"

  Wincing, Blair raised scared eyes to look at the man. Apparently, being Clarian wasn't a good thing. "Why?" he asked in Esbrew, his Basic fleeing his mind in the face of the man's anger.

  The man dragged him to a waiting van, yelling at him in Basic. Blair tried to pull away, but the man was much bigger and stronger. Blair was shoved into a corner seat. He nearly fell off when the van flew away from the curb. In Basic words too fast for Blair to grasp, the man continued to yell at him. Blair thought there might be some questions in there, but he was too scared to try to answer or understand. He must have done something really bad. Was it because he left the tent city? Because he rode in the trains and took some fruit? Because he was Clarian? Blair really didn't know, and that just made him even more scared.

  Within minutes, Blair was pulled out of the van by people in rubber suits. His brief glance suggested a hospital, but he was soon shoved into a room before he could tell for sure. His satchel and blanket were whisked away, his clothes swiftly striped from his body before he could protest. After he had been scrubbed from head to toe, one of the suited figures pulled a light gown over his head. What do they think I am, a girl? Blair was then shoved into a room with white walls and floor. Feeling scared, naked and alone, he ignored the bed and curled up in a corner. If he had done something so bad to deserve this, would his father want him now? Would anyone want him now? Blair wrapped his arms around his legs and shivered, wishing desperately for his mother.

  PART 3: DISCOVERY

  Lila Memorial Hospital, Harbor Bay, Laurian Province

  Inspector Frank Colton walked down the hospital halls, looking for the isolation unit. His captain had sent him here to check the story of the Clarian kid. Frank shook his head, wondering how a kid from the island had managed to get to Harbor Bay. Most the refugees had landed in either Tucker or Odinland. He hadn't heard of any making it this far north. Since some of the Clarian refugees were coming down with an unknown disease, his captain feared they might have a disaster in the making if more Clarians had made it this far. The media was already stirring up a panic down south.

  Gently tapping on the shoulder of a young nurse, he quickly showed her his badge. "I was sent to check into the Clarian kid. Is he here?"

  "Yes," the woman replied. She pointed to a large window. "He's in there. But you can't go in without a suit."

  Frank sighed, having a good idea what kind of suit she was talking about. He hated rubbertex. "Have you found out anything about him? Like how he got here?"

  She shook her head. "He hasn't said much, though the health department guy really yelled at him."

  A seed of anger began to grow in Frank. He adored kids, even though his wife Dana couldn't have children with her illness. He positively doted on Jeff's and
his brother Jesse's kids. Nothing made him angrier than an adult hurting a child. He walked over to the window. After a moment, he spied the boy sitting in the corner on the floor, arms wrapped around his skinny bent legs. His anger grew when he realized the kid was shivering in the thin hospital gown. "Who's his doctor?"

  The nurse shrugged. "Dr. Norman at the moment, though I don't think he wants to do it."

  Frank shook his head. He hadn't been very impressed with Norman, neither in handling Dana's occasional emergencies nor when little Sam had been hurt. "See if Dr. Brannon is available," he suggested, recalling the doctor who had been so good with Sam. The nurse left to make the calls.

  A few moments later, he was joined by a patrol officer. "Inspector Colton?"

  Frank turned and recognized the young man. "Davis." He looked back into the room. "Any information yet?"

  Davis shook his head. "No. The kid's not talking, they're still working on sterilizing the stuff he had on him, and I think the HD guy scared the poor kid to death."

  Hitting the window ledge, Frank fought to control his anger. "What the hell did he think he was doing?"

  "I think he's scared of this statcus thing," Davis replied. "The news reports make it sound worse than the Landing Year Plague."

  "That's no excuse," Frank growled. "He's just a kid. Lord knows what he must have gone through on Claria." Then a thought struck him. "Does he speak Basic?"

  Davis' face turned puzzled. "What do you mean?"

  Frank rolled his eyes. "The native language on Claria is Esbrew, not Basic. The kid might not have a clue why everyone's yelling at him."

  The light turned on behind Davis' eyes. "Really? I don't think anyone has said anything to him except in Basic. Though he did speak a couple words of Basic."

  "Doesn't mean he knows the whole language." Frank thought a moment. "Okay, Jeff MacGregor knows Esbrew, and I think he's working on some reports at home today. Go tell him I need a translator fast and drive him over here. He lives next door to my mother."

  Davis quickly left to follow the order. Frank glanced back into the room and sighed. Hell, I'm going to have to climb into one of those damn suits.

  Fifteen minutes later, Frank was suited up and connected to an air unit. Frank practiced a couple of steps, decided it was just as bad as he thought it would be, then pushed the discomfort from his mind. There's a boy in there possibly sick and definitely scared. I've got to do something.

  Once through the sterilization cycle, the inner door opened to allow him in. He walked over to where the boy still sat, grabbing a blanket from the foot of the bed. "Hi there." The boy looked up, fear making his big blue eyes even larger. Realizing the problem, Frank awkwardly sat down on the floor a couple of feet from the boy, trying to look less intimidating. "I'm Inspector Colton."

  The boy swallowed hard. "Are you go to arres, arrest me?"

  Frank shook his head to make sure the child understood. "No, I am not going to arrest you." He spoke slowly, so that the boy would have an easier time understanding the words. He held out the blanket. "Why don't you wrap up in this?"

  The boy took the blanket and swiftly wrapped it around his bony body. Frank swallowed hard. No child should be so skinny. Probably hasn't had a decent meal since the invasion. Every instinct Frank owned wanted to pick the kid up and carry him home for his mother and wife to feed and pamper. Instead, Frank simply asked, "Does that feel better?"

  The boy looked up and nodded. Frank was struck by how blue his eyes were. Gently, so not to scare the kid further, he asked, "What is your name?"

  "Blair Sandburg."

  A nudge tickled the back of his mind, but Frank didn't know why. He pressed on, "Well, hi Blair. How much Basic do you know?"

  The boy paused a moment in thought. Frank could tell he was thinking hard on the words. "I learn a little at school."

  So I'm right. Hope Jeff gets here soon. "That's good. I have asked someone to come here who can speak Esbrew. He should be here in a little bit. Okay?" The boy nodded, eyes brightening at the thought. Remembering the questions the nurse said they needed answered, Frank asked, "Where are your parents?"

  The light went out of the blue eyes. Blair seemed to withdraw into himself, barely shaking his head.

  Damn, the poor kid probably saw them die. Frank carefully laid a hand on the thin shoulder, trying to offer comfort. He changed the subject, planning to check the records for relatives later. "That's okay. How old are you, Blair?"

  Frank could see the boy struggle to turn his mind away from horrible memories to answer the question. "Ten."

  "When is your birthday?" The boy slowly told him. Frank nodded his head. He wasn't sure if the child would understand the Basic word 'allergies', so he decided to continue with his own questions. "That's great, Blair. Where are you from?"

  "Serenity."

  Frank smiled at him, even though the nudge was back. That name sounded familiar. "How did you get here?"

  "By boat."

  Ask a stupid question... "Do you know where the boat landed?"

  Stumbling over the pronunciation, Blair replied, "Oo, Oh, O'in land."

  Odinland! That's miles from here! "How did you get to Harbor Bay?"

  Blair shrugged. "I got on train to Laurian. Then I got bus to Harbor Bay."

  Frank did his best to keep the surprise from his face. How did a ten-year-old manage all that? Though there was an even better question. "Why did you come to Harbor Bay?"

  Blair squirmed on the floor a moment. Frank could see the horror lurking in his eyes. Struggling with the words, Blair softly answered, "I... Ima... my mother, she tell me... to come here."

  Puzzled, Frank asked, "Why?"

  "To... find... my father."

  Frank blinked. He hadn't expected that response. "Did she tell you his name?"

  Blair nodded, studying the man in front of him. After a moment, he replied, "Jeff MacGregor."

  Frank's eyes widened in surprised. Oh hell, THAT'S why Sandburg sounded familiar. Taking a deep breath, he asked, "Is your mother's name Naomi?"

  Surprised, the boy nodded. Hesitantly, he asked, "Do... Do you know... my mother?"

  "I met her once," Frank replied, remembering the beautiful woman who just about tore his friend's heart into pieces.

  "Can you find my father?"

  Gently, Frank laid his gloved hand on the curly head. "I'll see what I can do. But you have to do something for me." The boy looked at him expectantly. "I want you to get in that bed and wrap up in the covers to get warm. Then I want you to do what the nurses and doctor tells you. Agree?"

  The curly head nodded vigorously. By the time Frank had pushed himself off the floor, the boy was in the bed and pulling the sheet and blanket over himself. Frank gave him a smile, hoping Blair could see it through the faceplate. Then he left the room.

  During the sterilization process, Frank's thoughts ran furiously. Thinking back, doing a little math, he wasn't liking the results. Jeff wasn't completely over Kate's and Aubrey's deaths yet. Frank hated dumping this mess on him now.

  Stepping out of the chamber, he was met by Ted Brannon. "Did I hear what I thought I heard?" the doctor asked.

  Frank pulled off the headgear. "That Jeff is that kid's father?" As Ted nodded, Frank sighed. "Yes."

  "Well?"

  Frank closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. "Jeff was briefly engaged to a Naomi Sandburg from Claria back when he was nineteen. Let's just say it didn't end well. By my best guess, it could be possible."

  "Damn!" Ted exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. "We've barely got Sam back on his feet. How's Jeff going to handle this? Hell, how are we going to tell him?"

  Frank shook his head. "I don't know, but I better think of something quick. Jeff should be on his way here right now to translate."

  "Great," Ted sighed. He glanced at the little boy in the isolation room. "What can I do?"

  "Take care of the boy. If he does have statcus, this could be a rough ride."

  A nurse stepp
ed into the observation room. "Inspector? Mr. MacGregor is here to translate."

  Exchanging glances, Frank turned to break the news to his friend.

  Stunned, Jeff stared at the cup of java Frank had given him. "I...Why... Damn it, Frank." He sat the cup down and rubbed his face. "Can it be true?"

  Frank took a deep breath. "You were with Naomi about eleven years ago during the summer, right? Up about the Ninth month?" Jeff thought a moment, then slowly nodded. "Blair said he's ten and was born in Fifth month."

  Jeff gradually raised his head to meet Frank's concerned brown eyes. "That's about eight to ten months. Damn, it could be true." Jeff dropped his head back into his hands. "Why didn't Naomi tell me?!?"

  Frank struggled to keep his dislike of Naomi to himself, but finally suggested, "Maybe Naomi didn't want you to pollute his mind with your mainland ways."

  "Probably," Jeff admitted, remembering the fights they had had over the differences in their respective cultures. "She always thought the mainlanders were too uptight." A son. How can I have a ten-year-old son and not know it! I could feel Sam and Aubrey from the minute I held them. Damn, how could Naomi do this to me?

  A knock on the lounge door echoed in the room. Frank opened the door.

  "Inspector Colton?" the nurse asked. When Frank nodded, she handed him a box. "These are the things the Sandburg boy had on him. Dr. Brannon said you'd want to see them."

  Frank thanked her, then carried the box over to the low table by Jeff. Taking a deep breath, Jeff sat upright so he could look into the box as well. Carefully, Frank picked up a leather wallet. Opening it up, he bit his lip. "Jeff, can you read this?"

  Jeff took the wallet from Frank's hand and looked down. It was a card with a small picture of Naomi. An older version of Naomi than Jeff remembered, but definitely Naomi. He read the card. "It's a council person's I.D. card for entering the House of Law." He gave Frank a small smirk. "I had a feeling Naomi would go into politics. She was always a passionate debater." He sighed, "That would also explain it."

  "Explain what?"