Chapter 6

Alex, Jennifere, and I sat around the room with the US Ambassador, while Ingrid served drinks and hors d’oeuvres. We tried to make small talk about the weather and general things, and I began to wonder about what was keeping our attorney and what could be more important than my own country trying to control me.

And just when the pregnant pause in the conversation threatened to become seriously awkward, Mr. Branna returned, holding a phone out to me.

“Mr. Dekker, I have here the Canadian Prime Minister who requests just a moment of your time,” he said as he approached me.

I reached out to take the phone, “Tim Dekker speaking.”

“Mr. Dekker, this is Alan Thibodeaux, thank you for taking my call.”

“I’m pleased to speak with you, Prime Minister. What can I do for you?” I replied.

“I need to ask you a simple question. What are your intentions toward Canada? Do you intend to stay here? Do you mean us any harm?”

I paused and wondered what was behind this.

“Sir, I have very much enjoyed my time in your wonderful country and while I hadn’t planned on staying here long term, might I request asylum in Canada since my own country seems to be threatening my freedom? I certainly don’t intend you or your country any harm!”

“Well, Mr. Dekker, as an honorary citizen of Canada, you don’t need to ask for asylum, you are welcome to stay here as long as you wish. We are happy to have you here and hope that you enjoy your time in this wonderful country!” And with that, he terminated the phone call.

I handed the phone to Alex and looked to Mr. Branna for an explanation.

“We just clarified with the Canadian Government that you are indeed considered a citizen and you are welcome to stay as long as you want.” Mr. Branna explained. “Thus, there is no reason to entertain these so-called demands from the US Government to return to that country unless that is something that you desire to do.”

Then Jennifere spoke up. “We should also consider disclosing this demand publicly so that everyone knows what kind of people are running the US government.”

The Ambassador took that as his cue to leave. “While I can’t blame you for not complying with the request, and I personally don’t agree with the request, I can’t be part of plotting against the US government.”

And with that, he walked out of the room.

Mr. Branna left shortly thereafter to put out a press release detailing the demands of the US government and our response, as well as a quote from the Prime Minister assuring us that we were welcome to stay.

We then made plans to head over to the hospital after lunch.

The hotel had made arrangements for us to get in a limo at the back entrance to the hotel, which had been cordoned off by the police so that there were no reporters or crowds on the street. A police barricade had closed Piper Street and we were able to exit the hotel at the receiving dock without hassle.

We then proceeded to the hospital and were directed to the front entrance. Despite the promise from the hospital that we would have a secure and private entrance, it didn’t appear that they were living up to their word.

As we pulled to a stop, a line of Toronto City police officers made a corridor into the front entrance and once this was secure, they opened the limo door. Alex stepped out first, and I followed quickly thereafter, turning to help Jennifere out of the car when the shot rang out.

I felt a twinge and heard a gasp, instinctively pushing Jennifere back into the relative safety of the car and turning to grab Alex, only to see her crumple to the ground, a red spot appearing on her blouse. A second shot rang out as police officers tried to tackle me to the ground, but no one was stopping me from getting to Alex. Like a running back, I shrugged off their attempts to tackle me until I reached Alex, and then I allowed them to pile on and cover us with their bodies.

As I touched Alex, I could feel her life slipping away, and I envisioned pouring life energy into her, closing off the bleeding from the damaged arteries with the power that seemed to flow instinctively from me. I could feel her tissue knitting back together and her heartbeat and breathing stabilizing as the blackness started to seep in around the edges of my vision.

Then we were being lifted and pulled into the building, where a team of nurses and doctors started to swarm over to me and Alex, pushing us each onto stretchers and rushing us down the hall.

I wanted none of that though and I slid off the stretcher and began running back down the hall toward the entrance where I saw the police had someone tackled to the ground and trying to handcuff them.

When I got closer, I realized it was the son of the woman from Memphis. He saw me and the blood on my shirt and he smirked.

I felt my rage boil over and in my head, I heard that strange alien voice, “You will have the power of judgment over your fellow humans. But use it wisely as the future of the human race depends upon your fair use of this power.”

I paused and thought about that, but as I examined his thoughts and his life, all I could find were examples of lying, cheating, and hurting others. And as the rage returned, I channeled it toward him, willing him to burn for his crimes.

And in that moment, I half expected him to erupt into flames, but instead, as his eyes locked onto mine, he started screaming and I knew in that instant that this punishment was even worse. Eternal agony, the sensation of burning alive, with no actual damage.

I then turned toward the car, realizing that I had a police escort around me, and met Jennifere who was also being escorted from the car by four armored police. I grabbed her hand and surrounded by our combined police escort, we turned and hurried down the hall to find Alex and see how she was. Behind us, the screams of the little shit from Memphis echoed off the walls, a haunting sound that frightened even the police who were loading him into a car to carry him away.

“Sir, you’ve been shot as well!” Jennifere exclaimed.

I looked down to where she was pointing and realized that the twinge I had felt had been the bullet grazing me before it hit Alex. I tried to concentrate on the wound and heal it as I had done to Alex, but it kept slipping through my mind, like trying to catch water in a sieve.

So, when the nurses directed me to a stretcher in the emergency room beside where they were still working on Alex, I allowed it. They quickly cut off my shirt and set to work cleaning the wound and applying pressure to stop the bleeding.

Meanwhile, I could tell that Alex was doing better. The doctors were all gathered around her, amazed at her recuperation. They were documenting it with pictures and taking samples.

I, on the other hand, finally relaxed and as the adrenaline wore off, the blackness started creeping into the edges of my vision. Jennifere could tell that something was wrong and she started yelling for help, but no matter how hard I tried to hold on, I just kept drifting away, the voice of the alien ship reminding me that I was to stand in judgment of the human race.

I woke up back in my hotel room in the Fairmont Royal York. Alex was lying on one side and Jennifere was on my other side. Dr. Greywell was sitting on the foot of the bed and I realized the room was filled with monitors and medical equipment.

“I see you are awake.” She said as she pressed mute on an alarm that was softly beeping on one of the monitors.

“Yes, either that or I’m dead and speaking to beautiful ghosts,” I replied with a grin.

“Since I’m not feeling very ethereal, I’m willing to bet that you are just awake,” she chuckled. “How are you feeling otherwise?”

“My side hurts like hell,” I answered. “I feel like I’ve been shot!”

“Why don’t you heel yourself like you did Alex?”

“That is an excellent question!” I snarkily replied. “I hadn’t thought of that!”

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean to insult you, but could you try again now that you are well rested and perhaps have more energy to devote to the effort?”

“Before I try, how is Alex?” I asked.

“She is fine. Even her scar seemed to be receding by the time we loaded everyone up to return from the hospital.”

While I trusted Dr. Greywell, I reached over to touch Alex on her chest, to see if I could feel any further damage from the gunshot. However, the good doctor was correct and all I could sense was a healthy young woman.

So, then I turned my attention to the wound in my side. Once again I tried to feel the wound and pour energy into it as I had done for Alex. Once again, I could sense that there was something wrong, but I couldn’t latch onto it.

“Susan, I can’t” I whispered.

“You can’t heal yourself, or you can’t heal anyone?” she asked quietly.

“Just myself, at least as far as I know.”

“Then you’ll have to put up with me for a while longer since I am responsible for taking care of you,” she said with some worry in her voice. “Now roll over and let me see the bandage on that wound.”

As she cleaned my wound and changed my bandage, all that moving around in the bed woke Alex and Jennifere. They both wanted to check on me as well and soon we were all awake and moving around.

I still felt very tired and weak, but the blackness wasn’t creeping in on the edges of my vision anymore. I was hungry, and without saying anything, Jennifere climbed out of bed and slipped on a robe, going to the door and ordering breakfast for everyone with the cook.

While I had been hoping for a quiet morning in bed cuddling with my two naked girlfriends, as I had come to think of them, it was not to be.

Alas, it was not to be.

Once Susan finished with my bandage, we all went into the dining room for breakfast and coffee and read the morning papers which were saturated with news of the attack on me as we visited Sick Kids Hospital yesterday.

But on the bottom half of the page was the story of Jimmy Ray Rowan, who was locked in a mental hospital because after trying to kill me and ‘apparently’ shooting Alex, he had started screaming incessantly. He had been sedated but had screamed until he lost his voice, his agony apparent to everyone around him.

According to the article, he had been released just that morning and how he had gotten a gun in Canada still wasn’t known. However, it was quite a scandal in the country and a blow to their national pride. I had even received an official communique from the Prime Minister apologizing for allowing this to happen.

Susan also informed me that there were now Mounties posted throughout the hotel in case there were any more attempts on my life. And they had requested that I start wearing a bulletproof vest when I went out in the future.

After breakfast, I said I wanted to take a shower, but Susan informed me that I couldn’t get my wound wet, so all three ladies volunteered to give me a sponge bath instead. They even had a hairdresser chair and sink for washing my hair brought to the bathroom.