Chapter 3

"Well, it certainly sounds more exciting than my brush with MORFS."

"You're a morf? One of us?"

"Of course. Nothing useful, like yours. But it did get exciting in a sad sort of way."

Rose consciously switched back to English. "Exciting and sad? What happened?"

"I grew up in a small village near the coast of Eire - Ireland, you call it. We used to joke that it was a toss up whether the town prospered more from shearing our sheep or from shearing the tourists."

"What village?"

"I don't want to say. I haven't been back, and I have no intention of doing so. My parents are long gone, and I've no family left there. And if you or any of the rest of the family go there, I want you to make up your own mind about the place."

"It was an exciting time, the turn of the century. As a young girl, I barely understood all the fuss about the new millennium. But I understood that some people were afraid that New Years Day would see the end of the world as we knew it. All I really got was that the telly might stop working, and I might not be able to play my games on the computer."

"The new year came and went, and life went on. The worst part was getting used to starting years with 20 instead of 19." She shook her head at the triviality of it.

"Even then, I had become a little vain. I had beautiful, fiery red hair and sparkling green eyes. I won some pageants, and generally got a lot of attention. And I took it for my due. I wasn't completely stuck up, but some saw me that way."

"Then it all changed. The year I turned 14, I won another title for the regional festival. The next morning, I thought I had celebrated too much. But it wasn't that. The doctor just said it was a bad flu, and prescribed the usual drugs and bed rest."

"We had heard the rumors of some people getting sick and undergoing weird changes, but they were just that - rumors. We never thought it could come to our village."

"I was sick for four miserable days. When I got better, I got a shock. My beautiful red hair had turned a dull brown - all of it." Rose understood that last to mean the change was not limited to her head. "And my eyes - the sparkling emeralds had turned brown as well. I was devastated."

"Some of the more jealous girls started saying it was a Judgment from God, a punishment for my vanity. Their boyfriends took up the theme as well. But things didn't really get bad until the local Father took up the theme. He was a grumpy old Scot to begin with, always complaining of frivolity and excess, but he got worse."

"Then some of the others started getting sick. And started blaming me for it. There was even talk of me being a witch. Here it was the twenty first century, and you'd think it was the dark ages. Some even said I'd traded my red hair and green eyes to the devil or the Sidh - the fairies - for unholy powers."

"Few people, if any, really believed it. And over time, we started learning more about MORFS. But the mood had been set. I was blamed for the other cases in the village, even though I had nothing to do with them. People got uncomfortable around me, even those who claimed they didn't believe the stories. Friends, people I had known my whole life, started to shun me."

"As the months dragged on, things got worse. Da's shop got vandalized, and the police wouldn't do anything about it. In fact, we later found out that one of 'em was involved. We got shop doors closed in our faces. Families who'd known ours for generations refused to have anything to do with us."

"It came to a sort of a head when one of the leaders of the attacks got sick, and then died from complications of MORFS. The family tried to blame me, but most people saw that it was their own damn fault; the doctor told them it was MORFS, but they refused to get him the necessary help."

"His mother confronted me in the street, calling me a murderer. She had come prepared, carrying a big rock. I'm lucky it wasn't a gun, but the crazy old bat was too wrapped up in some religious lunacy of the scot's for that. She threw the rock at me, as hard as she could. I dodged it, and it passed me. Unfortunately, it hit a bystander."

"The crowd that had gathered did not take well to the sight of a five year old girl sprawled on the walk, unconscious and bleeding from her head. With everything that was going on, it took me a minute to recognize her. She was the mayor's youngest, the fair haired girl of the village."

"At first, the madwoman didn't know what had happened. She only knew she had missed me. But after she took out another stone and raised her arm to throw it at me, she saw. And then she saw the crowd. She changed her shouts, trying to blame me for the injury, stupid old bag. She tried to rally the crowd against me, forgetting that her earlier shrieking had drawn their attention - that they had seen the whole thing."

"One of the larger lads stepped up behind her and relieved her of her stone, none too gently. She ended up with a sprained wrist, in fact. She was lucky at that - the crowd was about ready to do to her what she had tried to get them to do to me. The only thing that stopped them was the arrival of a panda and an ambulance, called by some of the witnesses."

"There was no question about what had happened. Some tourist thought the whole thing was staged at first, some kind of historical recreation or something, and recorded the whole thing. His video made it clear that the girl was visibly in the line of fire - and visible to my attacker - when she hurled the rock. And the recordings of her rants made it clear that she intended nothing less than murder."

"After that, the public attacks stopped. Anyone trying to speak out against me or the other morfs was none too politely reminded of the attack, and its results. On the other hand, I was still an uncomfortable reminder of what happened - worse than an outsider. I was socially isolated, treated with an impersonal formality like some disagreeable (and cheap) tourist. It was better than the outright hostility and threatened violence, but not by much."

"I finished school - it worked a little differently there than it does here - and went off to college. My Da' had a brother in England, so I arranged to stay with him for a couple of years."

"But my troubles weren't quite over. People started noticing I looked young for my age. For a while, it looked like I wasn't aging at all. These days, you probably know someone who got something like that from MORFS. But it was pretty much unheard of back then. People just didn't believe my story - or my age. My ID was always checked and double checked."

"And people got jealous of that. I considered it a curse, but they were jealous of it." She shook her head.

"Eventually, I worked it out that I seemed to age about three years for every ten that I lived. Ironically, that helped me meet and eventually marry your great grandfather (God rest his soul). He was younger than me, but was attracted to the way that I seemed so much younger than him. He was an American, and we ended up moving here to raise our family. It took a lot to convince Immigration that I was who I claimed to be." She sighed.

"And here I am."

By this time, they were home and the girls were settling her in the guest room.

The queen had her own ideas. Lena didn't like them, but in the end she gave in.

The trip to the spa went as planned. Robin took the queen back in time, transported her to the spa, then brought her forward to the present. At the same time, another of Mrs. Tabor's most trusted teleporters took a direct line to the spa and appeared in an adjacent transport room. This gave the tracer something to trace, and set up the rest of the plan.

Despite the best efforts of Mrs. Tabor's staff, the queen was anything but relaxed by the time she was done there. So were the friends.

Lena did her best to warn Rose that she was about to be dropped into something nasty, and made her excuses to her parents. Rose went to her room, where she could disappear and return without disturbing the rest of the family. Robin briefly flicked in and out, to make sure she had a lock on where Rose was.

Combining their resources, Lena, Cassandra, and Robin got ready to track the bounce. With the slight time shifts, they would seem to appear at the same time as the queen. The queen insisted that the other teleporter take her, and immediately leave. She also made sure she had mental images of the plotters and understood who had what abilities.

As expected, the queen did not appear in her apartment. Instead, she was in what appeared to be a basement of some sort. The man who had intercepted her teleport barely had a chance to part his sneering lips to make some comment before his head exploded. Before the body had a chance to fall, Robin, Lena, and an avatar of David appeared and subdued the other plotters.

The avatar flickered briefly, when the room shielding activated. The kidnappers' original plan was that it would happen as soon as the queen appeared, trapping her and her teleporter. They hadn't counted on a group of defenders appearing with them, or with someone on the outside who could quickly disable the shield generator by remote control.

Unfortunately, that was not the end of it. Robin flitted in a folding screen, and then brought Rose. Rose took the stern instructions to stay behind the screen seriously. The rest were not so lucky.

The queen had survived a number of attempts, and loyal friends and relatives had died - some horribly - at the hands of these people or their co-conspirators. She wanted names and answers, and was not in a merciful mood. Her anger was almost as hot as the effects of her powers as a heat elemental, and she wielded both expertly.

Even hidden behind the screen, Rose was not completely protected. Between translating thoughts and questions for Lena and reading the truth (or lack thereof) of the statements of the kidnappers, she got a large and horrific part of the proceedings. She nearly lost it entirely when one of the translations described the nature of a sort of explosive sound she heard as having been the destruction of one man's scrotum - and its contents. Lena helped her keep it together, suggesting that it seemed unreal, like an unpleasant vid playing in another room. That, and the emotional boosts, helped.

Some.

In the end, the queen had her answers. Angel was brought in to heal the survivors enough to make sure they would live through their arrests. Robin and the other teleporter flitted them to the consulate, where they were put in the hands of the queen's people. Then they did the same for the bodies. They would be someone else's problem now.

Rose was the next to go. Lena briefly warned her mother that she was returning, and would need comforting. The moment she was back in her room, she broke down and cried. Her mother came in and, between Rose's racking sobs, wrapped her in a hug. Rose returned the hug so powerfully that her mother was afraid of cracking a rib. But she hung in there. Lena had warned her not to ask for details, and she accepted the advice.

After a while, Lena appeared in the room. Rose was not sure whether she had teleported or walked in, but she didn't really care. With another hug, and a look to Rose to make sure it would be ok, her mother left the two of them alone.

Lena talked, and thought, and used emotions, and eventually got Rose to a place she could live with. A part of her childhood had been burned away, and was lost forever. But she still had her life, and ways to enjoy it. When she was sure Rose was well on the way to recovery, she reminded her that what happened was confidential. She should not discuss it with her parents, her other friends, or anyone else not specifically cleared by Lena.

Before leaving, Lena handed a note to Rose's mother. It explained that Mrs. Tabor considered the events to morally - but not legally - involve the spa, and invited her to bring Rose to the spa for counseling sessions with the staff therapists. While she waited for her daughter, she could enjoy some complimentary spa services as well.

Tara was not told much. She only knew that Rose had gone through something horrible, something that she could not talk about. And that she may well have saved several innocent lives. She didn't like the mystery, but made sure her sister knew she was there for her.

Physically and emotionally exhausted, Rose went to bed. She was asleep almost immediately.

Her great grandmother was not content to leave it at that. Telepath! I don't know your name, but I want to talk with you.

My name is Lena. Or Radar. What do you need? There was a bit of an edge, and an overtone of her own exhaustion, in Lena's reply.

I need to know that Rose will be all right. And what she really went through.

There was a pause, as Lena took a deeper look into the woman's mind. What she saw surprised and impressed her. The old lady could take it.

She will recover, but she will never be quite the same. She did some growing up all at once, and handled some things nobody should ever have to see.

What did she see?

Very little, directly. We kept her hidden during the action. She came in on an attempted assassination by a terrorist group, and then was there while the intended victim tortured members of the group - some to death - for information needed to stop other imminent murders. She didn't see any of it, and I'm sorry that I saw what I saw of it. Unfortunately, she heard, and translated, enough to have altogether too good of an idea what went on.

What part did you play?

I read their minds, with Rose's help, and helped them feel more like thinking and talking about what we needed to know. Otherwise, I just coordinated the group.

How dare you! How could you do that to her?

We protected her as much as we could. Lives were at stake, a lot of them. And there was no time. If there had been any other way, if we could have left her out of it, we would have. We didn't have that luxury. She means a lot to us, and we owe her a lot for this.

Gram took another tack. Something she knew from experience. Her dreams will be the enemy, now. What can you do about that?

There seemed to be a brief, somewhat strange shift in Lena's mental voice. I'll watch them through the night. And change what I need to.

After you did all that, you expect to stay that awake and alert all night? She put a lot of doubt into that thought.

Lena replied truthfully, if a little misleadingly. I am refreshed now. I will be in good shape to do so.

How? Are you that powerful?

An aspect of our powers helped. But I will have to pay a price. She did not want to let her know about Robin's abilities with time, or that she had stopped in mid conversation, slept deeply for more than her usual, and then returned to the time of the conversation and finished it. She would lose a day of her life that way, but Rose was worth it.

Mollified, but not entirely satisfied, the older woman let the matter drop.

The next morning, Rose slept in. The school district had long since given up on having school the day before Thanksgiving - too many families were traveling that day. And too many teachers and staff members wanted to travel.

She was surprisingly refreshed, and didn't remember so much as a single unpleasant dream.

When she got ready for her shower, she had another shock. A few drops of blood stained her underwear. She fought back panic as she started to flash back on the events of the previous night, but just as quickly found herself calming down.

Too quickly.

Lena?

I'm here. It's ok. It's not what you were thinking. Just something else - something you knew would happen sooner or later.

Rose took a second to understand what that indicated. Then she understood. Oh! But ... why now, all of a sudden?

Sometimes stress can bring it on. Welcome to womanhood. Rose could "hear" the ironic grin in that last comment.

Her Gram insisted on making her a good breakfast, and keeping her company while she ate. Both of her parents were already at work, and Tara was out with some friends. The two of them talked as she ate, shifting easily back and forth between English and Gaelic. It was the nicest, most relaxed mornings she had in a long time.

She should have known it couldn't last.

Heads up! Lena's thoughts broke into her own, breaking the mood. A couple of official types are coming to talk to you. It's all right - they aren't there to make trouble. They just need to interview us all about last night. I'll be here if you need me, just a thought away.

With that, the doorbell rang. "That's for me, Gram." she shrugged, as she went to get the door.

"Precog?"

"No, just a little help from my friends."

She opened the door a little and looked at the neatly dressed man and woman standing there. As she heard her Gram arrive behind her, she deadpanned "My parents aren't home, and I'm too young and naive to buy anything from you." She twisted her mouth into a half smile. "Or are you here to save my soul?"

They did not look amused. The woman sounded like a government type from the tube when she replied "Miss Reid, I believe your friend told you we were coming. May we come in?"

"Who are you, and what do you want with my grand daughter?" It was a minor conceit, but dropping a generation brought her seeming age more in line with expectations.

"Your great grand daughter," the woman replied, emphasizing the dropped descriptor, "witnessed something important last night. We are here to investigate the event."

"It's all right, Gram." Rose assured her, in Gaelic. "They are not here for trouble. I have heavenly help if I need it."

Somewhat mollified, her Gram invited them in and offered food and drink. They accepted the invitation to enter, and politely declined the refreshments.

"We will need to speak with her alone." The woman informed her, pointedly.

"I can't allow that. Her parents are trusting me to keep an eye on her."

After a bit of discussion, they compromised. She would go to the kitchen, where she could see them but not hear them very well. They would activate a device that would block her even more from eavesdropping, while allowing their unimpeded conversation.

Don't worry. I'll be "listening" too, and help her if she needs it. And if you need to know or say something, I'll pass it along. Lena's thought was not as reassuring as it might be. She was someone she hardly knew, and she had already put Rose in a terrible position.

Lena wisely refrained from commenting on that thought, but did "help" her to feel better about the situation.

The two agents (as Rose thought of them) acted in what she would call an "Official" manner. They were neither nice nor mean, neither overly polite nor rude. Businesslike. The woman took the lead in the questioning, with the man asking for additional details and clarifications.

For the record, they asked her name and date of birth. After she gave those, they asked about the events of the previous evening.

Even with the moral and covert emotional support of Lena, it was hard. They were not satisfied that she didn't know the identity of the victim/torturer. "I only heard her called 'the queen' and 'that royal' bad word of one kind or another."

Then they got upset with her when they asked about what the kidnappers said and thought - she answered in their original language. They thought she was making fun of them, not taking things seriously. It took intervention from Lena to convince them she was being sincere.

After a brief mental consultation with Lena, Rose decided to hold back the bit about knowing truth and lies. She didn't volunteer anything about it, and they didn't ask. She got the impression that they attributed the evaluation of that issue to Lena, and she did and said nothing to change their minds about it.

They took her through every moment of the experience, over and over again. By the time the questioning was done, she was an exhausted, distraught mess. Her Gram stepped in to put an end to things when Rose dropped her tear covered face to her hands and slumped in her chair. The two agents accepted her intervention, and formally thanked Rose for her cooperation. The woman gave her a card, asking her to call if she remembered anything else.