Disclaimer: This original story is not authorized or endorsed by Warner Bros, ABC, Lors Thornwald Inc, Edelson Productions, William Schmidt, or anyone else having rights to "Prey". It is not intended infringe on any rights or copyright and is not written for profit. Any characters not recognizable from the series "Prey" belong to the author.
Tom watched the ground fall away as his plane climbed its way above the clouds and headed eastward. The higher it went, the more he strained to keep his eyes on the terminal where he knew Sloan would be keeping vigil until the last droning of the engines faded into nothing. Her warmth and vibrance still clung to him like an embrace and he caressed it with his heart. He could still feel her parting kiss lingering on his lips and he instinctively put his fingers to them as if expecting hers to magically appear there. Tom tried to keep his mental connection with Sloan as long as he could and, for a brief moment, he almost thought it would be possible to carry her all the way to New York with him. But the thought was just an illusion, and despite his desperate attempts to hold onto to her, as the distance between them grew, he felt his link with Sloan slip away until it was nothing more than a memory. Then Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Sloan was gone and he was alone once more.
Things certainly had moved quickly in the past two days. If you had told him yesterday that he would be on a plane today going to New York with someone he'd never met before, he would've said you were crazy. Yet, here he was, doing just that. Things had moved quickly in the past two days, faster than he realized and sitting here on the plane was the first time that he had to think about what had happened, starting with Walter's visit and ending with an unscheduled stop at the cabin for their meeting with Steve before they had to get to the airport.
There was not much time to spare once they arrived at LAX airport. Tom and Steve had no luggage or weapons, since Steve had assured him that all those things would be provided for them once they arrived in New York. Steve, however, did stash away a few necessary things in an airport locker the day before the meeting just in case there was a change of plans and, considering the turn of events that day, he had congratulated himself at his foresight.
The locker contained Steve's briefcase and an envelope, which Steve had handed to Tom. The envelope was filled with money, ID's, and a few untraceable credit cards which Tom stuck in his coat pocket. Then came the hasty good-byes to Sloan and the others before Tom and Steve had to race for the gate as they heard the last boarding call being announced. It seemed that they were no sooner belted into their seats, when the plane taxied out to the runway and rushed them all away from the life they had grown used to over the past year. It was hoped that this trip would ensure an even better life for them and the new world yet to come.
Tom looked up when he heard a bell ring and saw the light on the seatbelt sign go off . Stifling a yawn, he unbuckled his seatbelt, took his coat off and folded it on his lap. He was just about to close his eyes for a quick nap when Steve handed him a leather portfolio.
"I suggest you try to read as much of this as you can before our meeting with the aide," Steve advised. "Even though most of the parties know you're coming into this cold, it would be good if you knew in advance what direction the Alliance wants to head in. This way, when you answer their questions, you'll be able to determine what they need to know ..." Steve bent his head and gave Tom a knowing look, " ... and, what they don't."
Tom smiled and nodded his head in agreement as he looked down at the brief. Soon, though, his smiled faded as he thumbed through the papers he was supposed to read - all two-hundred and eighty-two of them. This was not what he expected. He was hoping to catch up on a little sleep, but judging by the length and tiny print of the proposal, it would probably take him the entire flight to read it all. He wrinkled his brow as he snapped the portfolio shut and jammed it into the magazine holder in front of him for the time being. He rubbed his eyes to clear them and turned around to see if the stewardess was coming with the beverage cart. He was never going to do this without caffeine. All he could think of was that he was in diplomatic service for only one day and already he hated it.
Steve glanced over at Tom and could tell that he was not happy at the prospect of reading through the long proposal. He knew it must be hard for someone like Tom, who was used to being on the more active side of a mission, to just sit on the sidelines and page through paragraphs of political mumbo-jumbo. He could certainly sympathize with Tom's feelings ... and he did, deep down. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, Tom's behavior struck him as funny and he started to laugh. It was just that he never expected to see Tom Daniels actually get annoyed at the prospect of a little extra work. Yet, here he was, ticked off and slamming things around.
Sure, Steve knew Tom was exhausted, a fact that Tom himself made no attempt to hide at this point, but as a chameleon, it wouldn't be the first time Tom had pushed himself beyond his limits. Reading a document was a piece of cake for him, compared to some of the other assignments he had to complete. As he looked at Tom's behavior, Steve's mind conjured up an image of Tom as a spoiled little kid who was mad because he was forced to do his chores before being allowed to go out and play. Nothing Steve did would get the image to leave and finally he just gave into it and laughed even more.
Suddenly, Steve felt something prick his senses and he realized it was Tom. Tom had heard him laughing and apparently did not appreciate it. Maybe an apology was in order, so Steve tried to compose himself before he turned to face Tom. However, once he saw the caustic look on Tom's face, he lost it. Tom's seriousness over such a small matter was just plain funny. He could get so intense! Steve swallowed several times, trying to stifle his laugh and wipe the smile off his face. He would've been successful, too, had the corners of his mouth not betrayed him. Finally, he just gave up. Why fight it? Tom just made him laugh, and that's all there was to it.
"Take it easy, Tom. To my knowledge, no one has ever actually died of boredom while reading a diplomatic draft. Of course, until today, that is."
Tom glared at Steve and then turned to stare out the window. If there was one thing that Tom was not used to, it was being laughed at by one of his own. As a matter of fact, he didn't appreciate being laughed at ... period. His mood was not improved either by the faint chuckling still coming from Steve, which continued until the stewardess came to offer them snacks and beverages from her cart. Then Steve got up and walked to the restroom, leaving Tom alone with his coffee.
Now that he had finished his first cup of coffee and was starting on his second, Tom resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to read that paper and yanked the portfolio out of the magazine holder. Steve came back to his seat in the meantime and beckoned to the stewardess. Tom was just about to ask Steve if he needed to read the entire portfolio when he heard Steve ask the stewardess for a pillow and then saw him recline his seat. The stewardess reached up and gave Steve a pillow and in another moment, Steve's eyes were closed. Tom narrowed his eyes when he saw Steve lying there so relaxed, a faint smile on his lips and it aggravated him even more.
Tom grudgingly looked away and opened the portfolio. Wasn't he just as tired as Steve? Maybe even more so. He'd hardly slept at all last night after his argument with Sloan, and whatever sleep he did get was far from restful. Then he'd been up early to check out Walter's office and things had just escalated from there. This flight to New York rounded out one very long, rough day. He had every right to be tired.
Just out of spite, Tom was tempted to shake Steve every time he felt him start to fall asleep and ask him questions about the paper. If he couldn't sleep, neither could Steve. But he stopped himself from thinking about it any further. Doing things out of spite was not generally his way, no matter how tempted he was to make an exception in this case.
Of course, he could place the portfolio back in the magazine holder and follow Steve's lead. Maybe if he dozed for an hour or so, he would feel more in the mood to read. Why, he'd even do without the pillow. But, as enticing as that thought was, he decided against it. Sloan had spoiled him these past several months, allowing him to sleep as long as he liked and letting him take things easy as he slowly regained his strength. No, he couldn't trust himself to just sleep for an hour. Duty first, sleep later. So Tom tore his eyes off Steve, reluctantly put his thoughts of revenge behind him, and set his mind on getting through the lengthy document. He only hoped that it wouldn't be too dry.
Tom looked down at the paper and started to read:
The United Nations' Universal Declaration of Human Rights states in its preamble that the "recognition of the inherent dignity and equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world". As members of a newly emerged hominid species, we ask that the rights afforded the Sapiens branch of the human family be extended to what scientists are now calling the Dominant branch of ..."
The words soon began to fade off the page as Tom's mind wandered back to Sloan and their parting kiss at the airport. He could tell she was trying not to waver in her resolve to support him, even though she was powerless to prevent her feelings of anxiety and fear from pouring all over him. On the inside, she didn't want him to go, no matter what she had said. Well, he didn't want to leave her behind either but it was out of his hands. They both had committed themselves to the fight for coexistence and this was just one of the many battles that they would have to face. They both knew that it also would not be the last time they'd have to be parted. Sloan needed to trust in him and his abilities. That was why he had allowed her to see and feel his inner strength back at the cabin. But, by allowing Sloan to enter him in that way, he also was able to see into her, to see her inner strength. Yes, he thought, they were a good match. her determination was as strong as his was. He knew she would be fine. She, along with Ed and Walter, would get the new lab on its feet and continue their research just as Tom would accept any assignments that were offered to him. They all would do what was needed, when it was needed. That was the life that they had chosen.
"I promise I'll come back," he had said to her, trying to alleviate her fears.
"You'd better, Mr. Daniels," she had replied, "Or I'll never speak to you again."
Tom hadn't been quite sure at her phrasing but he hadn't bothered to ask her about the expression. Time had grown short and he and Steve had to go before they missed their plane. So, he had just hugged her close and kissed her good-bye. And then had walked quickly into the crowd without a backwards glance.
Now, Tom wished their good-bye hadn't been so rushed. He would've given anything for just another few minutes with her, but it was too late now. With a sigh, he forced himself back to the present. He looked down at the papers in his lap and found the spot where he'd left off. After reading to the bottom of the page, he let out a soft groan. "So much for hoping this wouldn't be dry," he thought as he turned the page.
*************************************
"Tom, wake up - we're about to land." Steve shook Tom's arm until he saw Tom's eyelids flicker.
Tom's eyes flew open and for an instant he forgot where he was. Seeing the portfolio opened on his lap, he was instantly brought back to reality. He sat upright in his seat, rubbing his eyes, and gladly let Steve take the proposal from him.
Steve looked at the opened portfolio "Hm-m-m, page 14. My, we got far in our reading, didn't we?"
Tom scowled at Steve but exchanged it for a puzzled look when he saw Steve smiling at him.
"Not exactly gripping reading, was it? That's OK. To be honest, I never thought you'd get off page one, especially after I saw how mad you were when you thought you had to read it all. I was going to tell you just to skim through only the first section, but watching you get irritated was quite entertaining. The madder you got at me, the more I couldn't control myself. Sorry. I guess we were both tired and I should've said something. I'll just fill you in on what else you need to know before the meeting." Steve started to say something else, but started laughing instead.
"Now what?"
"I was just remembering the look on your face when you saw how long the paper was. Then, when I put my seat back and asked for a pillow, I thought you were going to choke me."
"Believe me, I wanted to. The only thing that stopped me was trying to figure out how to explain to the stewardess why the dead body next to me had my fingerprints around its throat. Besides, I need you as a guide. You never told me who we were meeting at the airport and I don't know my way around New York."
"Those are the only reasons I'm alive?" Tom nodded with an evil look in his eye. Steve pretended to gulp down his fear. "I almost forgot that you're a chameleon. You guys get really intense about revenge. Maybe I'd better think twice about teasing you in the future."
"Maybe," smiled Tom.
Steve thought it over and then laughed again. "Or maybe not. Buried somewhere under that stiff exterior is a sense of humor. I can feel it just itching to come out. After a few days with me, I'll have it out of you or die trying."
"That may be a distinct possibility." Tom wrinkled his brow. "Besides, what am I, some sort of science project? First Sloan tries to get me to laugh, and now you?"
Tom waited for a reply but saw that Steve was busy putting things back into the small briefcase in preparation for the landing. Tom just cocked his head slightly as he tried to figure out the puzzle that surrounded Steve. He couldn't get over how easily Steve smiled and laughed, even to the point of taunting him. Most people didn't even dare to laugh at a chameleon, especially at one who was annoyed, yet, Steve did it without a second thought. How was it that Steve could behave so, well, ... so human? It was one thing to play at it in front of Sloan and the others; even Tom could do that for a limited time. But there was no need to act that way now.
Maybe there was more to his species than Tom had ever imagined. Lewis had been all usiness and didn't encourage anything that pulled Tom's focus off his training. There was very little humor during his instructional sessions and whatever laughter there was, had been short-lived and generally had something to do with scoring a victory in practice. And, as far as his mother was concerned, there was absolutely nothing funny about his relationship with her. And it wasn't as though Tom never laughed, but it was rare and always at the appropriate times and for the correct duration.
Now he was surrounded by humor. Steve seemed to enjoy laughing and was able to see the humor in just about everything, including Tom. As if that wasn't disconcerting enough, what bothered Tom was that he found that he was growing quite comfortable with it. Why, he'd even go a step further and admit that he liked it. Steve's easy-going way is what probably made him a good negotiator, Tom reasoned. He could make anybody feel at ease. In fact, Tom found that he was actually looking forward to seeing Steve in action during the talks. Maybe things would not be as boring as the first fourteen pages of the proposal had led him to believe.
******************************
As Tom and Steve walked through the JFK terminal, onlookers simply saw two men wearing long, dark coats and walking casually but purposefully, toward the exit. Their eyes, though noting everything, reacted to nothing. They didn't talk at all, but it was obvious that they were together. That is what everyone saw.
But what they didn't see was all the activity going on inside the heads of these two men. They would have been amazed had they been able to witness the electrical fireworks that were being generated in their brains - billions of neurons rapidly firing energy impulses along the synaptic pathways, zipping along like lit fuses, processing in nanoseconds all the information that they were gathering through those amazing eyes of theirs. They were continually scanning and analyzing the crowds of people milling around - alert to any and all possible situations - as they calmly strode toward the exit to the street. And the amount of power that they both had generated in just a ten minute walk, could've probably lit up the entire terminal.
Once outside, a dark Lincoln pulled up to the curb where they were standing. After Steve determined that this was the driver he was expecting, he opened the rear door and both he and Tom climbed in. As Tom sank into the soft cushioned seat, he looked over at Steve and smiled. The two of them had worked smoothly together in the airport, like a well-oiled machine, and Tom came to appreciate that there was indeed more to Steve than just a quick wit.
"You did well in there." Tom volunteered.
"Thank you" was all Steve could think to say. The last thing he expected from Tom was a compliment, especially after the way he laughed at him on the plane. He just sat there quietly, soaking in the feeling of respect that emanated from Tom. Tom's respect for him was crucial to the mission and he was glad to have it. If Tom didn't trust him, or like him, all his plans could go up in smoke. He'd also have to remember that Tom did not liked to be laughed at when he was in a serious mood. He'd be more careful in the future not to repeat that mistake again. But for now, all was well. Tom at least appreciated his abilities, if not his sense of humor. And, who knows. After Tom spent a few days with Steve, he might very well start to bring down that wall he had around himself and let Steve in. Tom's reaction was a sign that he hadn't blown it and Steve was grateful for that much.
"Well, the first leg of our trip is over. Just sit back and relax," Steve finally said. "It's going to be a long drive. Unfortunately we have to drive all night if we're going to be on time for our meeting tomorrow morning."
"Where, exactly, is this meeting?"
"At the ambassador's private compound in the Adirondacks. It's going to take at least five or six hours to get there, maybe more."
"Wasn't there a closer airport than JFK?"
"Yes, but they're all much smaller and a lot less crowded. We'd be like sitting ducks if anyone was waiting for us. We stood a better chance of not being spotted if we were surrounded by crowds of people."
"Five or six hours is a long time to be on the road. You're not afraid we'll be followed in the car?"
"There's always that possibility, but the car is armored and outfitted with top of the line sensing equipment. We'd know in an instant if anyone was tailing us. Besides, I've worked with this driver before and he's good." Steve leaned in a little closer to Tom as he whispered, "But, he a little gruff. He doesn't have the best social skills in the world but he does know his job."
Tom looked at the driver but couldn't sense anything. Masking, more than likely, Tom thought. He probably does that out of habit so that everyone he drives doesn't have a hotline to his private feelings. Tom would've done the same. Then, he turned his attention back to Steve.
"Well, I'm glad everything's going according to schedule."
"Trust me, it is." Steve smiled at Tom as he pulled out his Day Planner and ran over the agenda for the next few days. With Steve now occupied, Tom looked out the window and watched, almost hypnotically, as hundreds of headlights accompanied them out of the airport and onto the Van Wyck Expressway.
Soon, the New York skyline came into view as they made their way to the Whitestone Bridge and Tom was amazed at the amount of traffic and activity still going on over there. What time was it anyway? It had to be close to midnight and yet the city was still throbbing with life. Twinkling lights, the rush of wind from passing vehicles, and the bellowing sound of horns from cars anxious to be on their way, all served to enhance Tom's image of the city as being a living, breathing entity.
It amazed Tom that people were still up and doing things at this hour, as though the night was still young. And even more amazing to him, was that there were still things to do. Of course, he'd had assignments in several large cities through the years, even New York, but he never took note of them - his focus had always been on business. But now, it was like he was seeing all of it for the first time and he was filled with wonder.
Steve, noting Tom's fascination with the city, offered a suggestion. "If all goes well with these negotiations and they lead up to a meeting with the Ambassador himself, you'll be able to meet with him at his office in the UN building. Then maybe you'll get a chance to see the city close-up."
" Maybe." said Tom. But he'd seen the city before on business and that's not what he was thinking. What he was thinking was that he wanted to come back with Sloan and do what everyone else was doing on a beautiful fall night, surrounded by people and traffic, late at night in New York City.
****************************
Within a relatively short time, the city was left behind and the car headed straight north toward the mountains. Tom looked over at Steve, but he appeared to be lost in thought. Probably running through his opening discussion with the aide, he assumed, and decided it was best to leave him alone. After all, one of them had to be prepared to open the negotiations and Tom knew he wasn't. He hadn't gotten as far in his reading as Steve would've wished but, as Steve also noted, it wasn't exactly the most riveting piece of literature ever written. Tom, though, was convinced that the politicians would love every convoluted word in it. Tom figured that minus all the rhetoric, the whole proposal probably only amounted to a few pages. Back on the plane, he would've given anything to see just a summary of it. Tom laughed at the thought of the Alliance putting out a Reader's Digest Condensed Version of their appeal for tired chameleons. At any rate, it had been very dry reading. Oh well, he was sure there would be plenty for him to read in the future and probably all equally as boring.
Tom caught sight of a sign on the highway - "Taconic State Parkway - Albany" and felt the car swing onto the exit ramp. Pretty soon the car was careening around sharp curves on the narrow road, as they steadily climbed higher and higher. Soon, the road widened out and Tom saw that they were riding along the mountains that overlooked the Hudson Valley. He leaned to his left to look out of Steve's window and saw patches of light dotted here and there below them and realized that they were small towns and cities following the slowly winding path of the Hudson River.
He noticed sparkling lights appear, then disappear, over and over again, above one of the towns in the distance and discerned that they were fireworks, too far away and too far below them to resemble anything more than dancing specks, like embers from a crackling log. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what they looked like in his mind had he been observing them from down below. Sloan wanted him to use his imagination and would never accept his word that he didn't have one. He had tried to explain that his training always focused on reality and he was never given the chance to indulge in flights of fancy. But now, he almost thought he saw those brilliant lights bursting overhead like exploding suns, disintegrating and the reborn again out of the clouds of smoke. Quite pleased with this foray into his imagination, he made a mental note to tell Sloan all about it when he returned. Maybe she was right and he did have an imagination after all.
As the little town was left behind, Tom just looked out of the window but soon wearied of the same landscape, despite the fact that the night was clear and the silhouettes of mountains against the moonlight were beautiful to see. The drive was beginning to tire him and he ached to stretch his legs. He looked again at Steve to see if he was ready to talk but now he appeared to be sleeping. How could he sleep so much? Tom sighed and forced aside his desire to wake Steve up. He again looked out the window and soon his attention was caught by the immense sky high above him. He leaned his head against the window and looked up at it - so wondrous and mysterious, and crowded with stars. He took a deep breath and reveled in the peace that he felt as he looked at them.
"I feel the same way, Tom," said Steve, who had been silently watching Tom for the past few minutes. He hadn't been sleeping but just running a few things over in his mind. "In our line of work, we don't get much time to enjoy the simple things in life, do we?"
Startled at hearing Stephen's voice, Tom jumped slightly before replying. "No - I guess we don't....in fact, I almost forget that we can. We spend so much time shielding ourselves that pretty soon nothing gets in. We give up so much in the struggle just to survive."
Steve nodded in agreement. "It does seem that way."
Tom turned away from Steve pretending to gaze at the stars again, but what he was actually doing was recalling from memory all the colors and scents and flavors he experienced the day he took the serum. He thought about the intensity of his feelings and those of the people around him, how they overwhelmed him, especially his feelings for Sloan. He almost couldn't bear them but at the same time, he couldn't get enough. He had told Sloan that he would gladly give up his survival instincts to be able to experience life this way all the time. Tom breathed deeply. How he longed to have Sloan beside him to share this flashback with him.
Suddenly, Tom realized that he had forgotten to mask himself and his strong emotions were probably bouncing off the walls of the car's interior. He bottled them up immediately and then looked around. Neither Steve nor the driver seemed to notice his flight of fancy. Tom felt nothing from the driver, who was probably still shielding himself since the start of the trip and Steve's attention was focused elsewhere, since he was now quickly thumbing through the proposal as though looking for something. Well, Tom's feelings were safe for the moment. He would not forget to mask himself again should he decide to take off on another emotional joy ride.
Then, for some reason, Tom was again drawn to the driver. This guy had kept his shielding in place for way too long. It wasn't all that necessary now that the mission was underway and all of them were cleared. While shielding was used to stop unwanted intrusions into personal emotions, the general population achieved true privacy by obedience to one of their main laws which forbade uninvited intrusion into another's thoughts. The law could be and generally was suspended under certain circumstances or for those in diplomatic or undercover service. If something was inadvertently picked up, the polite thing to do was to ignore it. Tom was quite
sure both he and Steve would both politely ignore any stray feelings that they might sense from the driver. Why, Steve didn't even intrde on all the emotions Tom had just sent careening around the car. So, what was up with the driver?
Tom looked over at Steve who was now writing something out, mouthing the words as he went, and noticed that he was masking, probably out of habit, as he composed his speech. It probably helped him focus. That was normal and to be expected.
The driver, however, was quite another matter. Tom ran a deeper scan over him and still got nothing. He should've gotten something, if nothing more than knowing that his feedback was blocked. It was as though this guy just absorbed Tom's energy and then dispersed it before it could return to Tom. The guy was a brick wall.
There was something familiar about this and Tom searched his memory for the answer. Then it came to him. The driver must be one of those mutations that surfaced from time to time as his species emerged. Their DNA didn't quite make it up to 1.6% and their brains processed slower. Usually, their give and take of feedback was scrambled or unclear or completely blocked, as in the case of this guy. It had been suggested that these ones had mutated at conception, possibly due to an over-exposure to chemical pollutants or radioactive leakage. Well, whatever the cause, they did exist and he had met his first one.
Tom remembered that there had been a brief attempt a while back to 'purify' the species by eliminating all the "transitional subspecies" or "quasi-dominants", as they referred to by that movement. Fortunately, the movement never gained a strong footing and the genocide was halted before it got very far. It was argued that humans would be trying to kill off enough of their species, without they themselves adding to the destruction. So the liquidation of these so-called undesirables was tabled and anyone outside the norm of Homo Sapiens, whose DNA differential was 1.1% or higher from human, was to be welcomed as part of their new society. Judging by
the size and probable strength of this guy, Tom figured it was a good decision he have him on their side. Now he at least understood why he wasn't getting any feedback from him. On the upside, Tom was relieved to note that the driver got nothing from him either. His feelings were safe. Thank goodness for small favors.
A few minutes later Steve turned to Tom and said, "Right before the Taconic ends, we'll get off at Chatham, stop for a break in town, and then make our way to the NY State Thruway. From then on, it's straight up to the Adirondacks. It'll still be another few hours before we arrive at our first stop."
Finally Steve mentioned something about taking a break. Tom looked at his watch. It was after one in the morning. Tom was sick of the car and a little food would do him wonders. He had been fighting claustrophobia for quite a while now, although he was carefully controlling it. What he didn't quite understand was why was he experiencing it now? As a matter of fact, why was he experiencing it at all? Hadn't he completed all his exercises last night that helped prepare him this assignment? He should be in control. He'd been in tighter places before and for longer periods of time, motionless, observing people, or just waiting. The car was far more comfortable than those places had been. Yet, despite what he logically knew and based on what Steve had just said, he couldn't stop thinking that the ride was never going to end. He told himself it was just his imagination - the one he swore to Sloan that he didn't have - that the car was getting smaller. For a time it had worked but now it was becoming a real struggle to keep reminding himself that it wasn't true.
All of a sudden, Tom felt his control slip away from him and he became powerless to reign in his erratic emotions. His breathing became labored. No matter how much he inhaled, he felt he wasn't getting any air and his mind started flashing on the cage - of how he couldn't move. His neck stiffened, sending shooting pains down his back. His muscles cramped and it was hard to sit still. He tried to stretch his legs out as much as
he could, but the car continued to close in around him. He felt as though there was a band tightening around his chest and he could no longer breathe. His head began to spin and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead that he wiped away with a shaking hand. He barely fought down the impulse to open the door and jumpout. He knew now that he wasn't going to make it Chatham or any place else. What was going on? The cage never intruded into his waking life before. He had been able to relegate it to his dreams for months. What a time to lose control over them now.
"Stop the car!" Tom practically yelled.
"What the ...? Steve turned sharply to Tom as the driver hit the brakes, looking quickly from side to side trying to see what had spooked Tom but he saw nothing. Steve was thrown into the back of the driver's seat and then against the door.
"Pull over. Now!" Tom demanded.
The driver glanced in the rearview mirror and caught Steve's eye. Steve rubbed his bruised shoulder and nodded to the driver to obey. The car pulled over in a small clearing. As it was still rolling to a stop, Tom jumped out, stumbled slightly, and then walked a few paces toward the trees, gulping down huge amounts of the frigid air. Steve stared at Tom through the window but made no attempt to follow him.
Tom saw a large rock and sat down on it, breathing heavily. He couldn't have lasted another minute in that car. Tom was unhurt thanks to the quick reflexes of the driver in stopping the car when he did, for in another instant, Tom knew he would've jumped out of it at 55 MPH. His head started to clear with every breath and he felt the constricting bonds of the cage loosen and fall away from him. Only then did he became aware that Steve and the driver were watching him.
Great. He knew Steve was going to ask him what this was all about. Tom had tried hard to prepare himself so that Steve would not see this weakness - the weakness that brought him so much shame, threatening to incapacitate him, and take away his sense of reason. It had even made him turn on Sloan, then Ed, and now it was threatening his assignment. What he couldn't figure out was why didn't his training work? What was he going to do is wasn't able to control these feelings any longer? And what was he going to tell Steve?
He could try being honest. Steve might understand. Steve would respect the truth. But, what if he didn't? Tom didn't even want to go there. OK, so let's say Steve does understand and even sympathizes. What now? Understanding him was one thing; relying on him was quite another. What would Steve think after seeing that he couldn't even take a simple car trip without falling apart. What was going to happen at the preliminary talks? Why, they could be deliberating for days behind closed doors. Wouldn't Steve be worried that, without a word of notice, Tom might jump up and race out of there like some madman, embarrassing the both of them, and the Alliance as well.
Worse yet, what if they were threatened and Tom could do nothing but cower in some dark corner, unable to function? Steve could never depend on him again. Stop it, he shouted at himself. That would never happen. That much he was sure of. His survival instincts and training were too strong for that, too ingrained. He had proven that to everyone, including himself, at Walter's office. Just the same, would Steve want to place his life in his hands if he knew what was Tom was fighting in his head?
The sound of a door opening brought Tom back to reality and he watched as Steve got out of the car. The time for figuring out what to say was over. Steve was coming closer and Tom still could think of nothing to say to explain his actions. All he could do was sit there, his fingers intertwined as he leaned on his knees, struggling to mask his feelings from Steve and waiting for the inevitable.
"You all right?" Steve asked cautiously. "Was it something I said? Is there something about the plans that you didn't like? We could change ..."
Tom stared at Steve and started to laugh under his breath. That was one scenario he had failed to run through his mind. Did Steve actually think this could be his own fault? Tom toyed with the idea of letting Steve think just that and he would be off the hook. After all, nobody, not even Steve, had consulted him ahead of time concerning their plans. Wasn't he the chameleon here and wasn't security arrangements part of his responsibility? How dare anyone make these decisions without consulting him first. Hmm-m, it might work at that. Tom was quite sure he could intimidate Steve into believing anything he wanted. Steve acted like he didn't fear Tom, but deep down, Tom knew Steve didn't want to get on his bad side. He could pull it off as long as his masking ability held out.
Tom cocked his head as he looked at Steve with piercing, cold eyes. Steve was standing there, hands outstretched, helpless, as his long, dark coat blew slightly in the night breeze. His face looked puzzled as he radiated waves of confusion and concern at Tom. Yes, this could work. That is, if Tom chose to go with it, ... but he couldn't. It wasn't fair to treat Steve that way when he hadn't done anything. It wasn't his fault Tom had this problem. Although he didn't want to tell Steve everything, he would have to risk giving him at least part of the truth.
"I'm fine - now." Tom said, softening his demeanor and looking Steve straight in the eyes. "And it's nothing you did. I just had to get some air. I'm not used to being that, umm .., that sedentary for so long. The flight, the car ride ... I needed to stretch."
"I'm sorry. I thought chameleons could stay in position for hours at a time. It's my fault. I should've realized that the trip might've ben tiring for you. It is your first mission since your release, isn't it?" Steve shook his head. "Now I feel bad for laughing at you back on the plane. It's just that I thought you were completely healed."
"I am." answered Tom, obviously embarrassed at the mention of his health. "And what do you know about my imprisonment?" Tom searched Steve's eyes, trying to assess Steve's reaction. Tom expected to feel hostility and contempt. He found neither.
Steve sat down on the grass in front of Tom, weighing his words carefully before he spoke.
"While many of our species are aware that you were captured by the American government, only a few of us actually know what they did to you. We've chosen to keep it that way. Those that do know are the higher ranking leaders in the Alliance." Steve thought a bit. "I'm not sure if Lewis' faction knows but I'm guessing they do. I don't think anybody knows everything they did to you, but enough to know it wasn't pleasant. I was told only because I was going to be working with you. When we first met, I told you I was concerned about your loyalty to the Alliance since you were a chameleon. That concern escalated once I learned of your capture and subsequent torture at the hands of humans. After what they did to you, I found it hard to believe that you could still be committed to coexisting with them. I admit that I still wonder about that."
"I see. And what were you told they did to me?"
"They locked you in a cage and physically abused you. When that failed to yield the information they wanted, they resorted to drugs, some bought but most of them stolen from our own species, to get you to reveal what you knew about Lewis or his plans. They even questioned you about the pillar and Oaxaca, but you gave them nothing. So they decided to kill you as an example to any others who refused to cooperate, but, before they could, your human friends got you out somehow and nursed you back to health. Is that correct?"
"Basically."
"But, there's one thing I don't understand."
"What is it?"
"Why they took you at all. If you were so committed to coexistence and wanted Lewis' program stopped as much as they did, why did they feel the need to torture you for the information? Wouldn't you have given it just as freely as the information you had already given your friends?"
It was an honest question, Tom thought, as he looked away from Steve's inquisitive eyes. Tom leaned forward and rubbed his hands together, partly due to the cold, and partly because he was nervous.
"While I'm still loyal to coexistence, I'm also loyal to our species. I don't want them - us - annihilated any more than Lewis does. I admit that when I heard Lewis had escaped soon after he was captured, I was more determined than ever to bring him in. The next time we met, I vowed he wouldn't get away so easily. But, after my own capture, I felt no one, not even Lewis, deserved that kind of treatment. I had no doubt that, if he fell into government hands, he would be tortured as I was. They might have even treated him worse, although it was hard to imagine anything being worse than what they put me through.
"I may want Lewis stopped, but not that way. I know you may find this hard to accept, Steve, knowing how we both feel about Lewis, but even though I don't agree with his methods, I know he was acting with the survival of our species in view and I respect that. That's why I refused to hand him over to them and why I refused to give them what they wanted. It had nothing to do with my personal feelings on coexistence."
Tom stopped and searched Steve's face for some reaction to this last statement. Steve had just confirmed to him that he still had doubts as to Tom's commitment to coexistence and Tom was quite sure that this last admonition did nothing to help Steve's struggle to believe in Tom, especially after his current actions. He could hardly blame Steve if he wanted to call the mission off and ask for a replacement. Tom scanned Steve for any such feelings but found none, so he continued.
"Yes, I would've given my friends any information they needed to stop the genocide of their kind at our species' hands, but, I wouldn't give it to their government, ... not to her, to Attwood's boss." Tom gave an involuntary shiver as he flashed on her face. "That was the difference. She resented that and made sure that I was taken forcibly. I admit that I still find it hard to put everything she ..., I mean, they did behind me, but, in spite of it all, my loyalties have never changed."
Now it was Steve's turn to assess what he had just heard. Tom could almost see Steve weighing his words against what he had already witnessed from him. His evaluation complete, Steve stood up and brushed the dead leaves off his coat. Steve looked at Tom for another moment then walked over to him. Pulling his coat around him, he sat down next to Tom on the rock.
"I understand, Tom. More than you realize. I would imagine, then, that this jumping out of the car has something to do with your imprisonment and torture. ... with the cage. Correct?"
Tom nodded his head, staring straight ahead as he realized that Steve had evaluated his situation correctly. He wondered how much Steve actually had figured out. And could he handle more of the truth?
"To be honest, Tom, I don't think I would've lasted as long as you did without giving them what they wanted. They practically killed you and tried to destroy you mind and still, you never gave in. And here you are, less than a year later, negotiating with these people for coexistence. While I now understand it, it's still hard to believe that you can even do this, you know, help the same people who tried to destroy you. No one would blame you if you just walked away from it all."
"I'm not walking away and I'm not helping the 'same' people, Steve. Humans are just like us - there are good and bad among them. I still believe that we can live and work together in a bi-species world, despite the actions of those who want our species, and the human species, annihilated. I refuse to let the actions of a few change what I know to be right. Even though I'm healed physically, I do still carry, let's say, a few scars from my experience. But I'm confident that those, too, will fade over the course of time. Sometimes I just need a breath of fresh air to cope with them."
Steve waved his hand over their surroundings. "Well, this place is loaded with fresh air. Use what you need. And, in the future, if one of these 'scars' should manifest itself and I'm around, please remember that I do understand. Just tell me it's coming instead of scaring me half to death by jumping out a window or something. Remember, you have nothing to be ashamed of - you've earned your 'red badge of courage', my friend. It's still an honor to work with you."
"Thank you." Tom smiled at Steve but wondered how much of an honor it would be for Steve should he witness a full-blown episode or have one of them happen during the negotiations.
Steve stood up and offered his hand to Tom. Tom took it and Steve hauled him to his feet. "Well, I'm thoroughly chilled. Let's get back to the car. I hope the driver left the engine running and the heat on."
Tom watched as Steve pulled his coat tightly around him against the biting wind, as he made his way back to the car. Then, suddenly aware himself that the temperature had dropped, Tom hugged his coat to him and locked his arms across his chest against the wind. He started to follow Steve back to the car and then stopped. Steve was becoming more of an enigma to him. Could he really be that understanding of his condition or was he just playing along because he felt he had no choice? Tom hadn't sensed anything akin to doubt on Steve's part, but he knew Steve could mask himself as well as he could. Tom hoped it was the former, but he had doubts of his own. Steve was just too good to be true. Or, maybe it was just hard for Tom to accept that this man was truly a friend. Tom came to the conclusion that he would just have to take a chance on him, the way he took a chance on Sloan.
"Tom, you coming?" Steve had reached the car and realized that Tom had not followed him.
"I'll be there in a minute." called Tom.
Steve just shook his head as he put a frozen hand on the door handle and yanked it open. "OK, but don't stay out too long. It's getting colder by the minute and this wind is picking up." With that, he slid into the back seat and rubbed his hands to warm them up. He then called to the driver. "Turn the heat up, will you?"
"It's up all the way," he said over his shoulder. Then bending his head to look for Tom outside, he added, "How long is he gonna stay out there? What's he doing anyway?"
"Thinking, I guess."
"What, he can't do that in here?" The driver shook his head. "I'll never understand chameleons. I just hope he gets back before we run out of gas." With that, the driver snorted, then leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.
"Me, too." answered Steve as he took another look out the window. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes as well and waited for Tom to return.
Tom was finally alone and his mind instantly brought up an image of Sloan. He couldn't help but wonder where she was and what she was doing at this very moment. After the attack at Walter's office, it wasn't safe for any of them now. None of them could go back to their own homes. Even the cabin wouldn't be safe for long. The whereabouts of the cabin existed in some government file and it would be only a matter of time before someone found it and put two and two together. No, they needed someplace new and Walter had suggested a hotel for the next few nights until they could each find other accommodations.
It was disconcerting to Tom, not knowing Sloan's exact location, but he had to assume she was safe. He had thought about calling her cell phone but it was agreed that they would keep all communication to a minimum, except in the case of emergency. Tom knew his species could find her through a phone call from him and he wasn't willing to risk that just because he missed her.
So, instead, Tom closed his eyes and tried to imagine Sloan sitting alone in her hotel room, staring out the window and wondering how he was. He could see the silken robe she always wore, draped over her in loose folds, her hair tumbling down her back and wished he could reach out to touch her, to comfort her. He saw her look in his direction and a smile brightened her face. He smiled back with his mind and watched as she got up and walked toward him, arms outstretched. He started to put his arms out to her, but she walked right through them. Tom turned and watched as Sloan walked up to the figure of a man standing in the shadows and gave herself to his arms. Together they walked back into the light and Tom could see that Sloan and Ed were now wrapped in a passionate embrace. Tom felt his anger rising. Ed? What was Ed doing there?
The rage that surged through him set his blood on fire and he clenched and unclenched his fists almost spasmodically. How dare 'he' touch her! Why was 'he' there at all? He wasn't even gone a day and Sloan sought consolation in Ed's arms?
Seemingly, out of nowhere, Tom heard a high-pitched sound, like the whistle on a train that was quickly barreling down on him, and he instantly opened his eyes. The wind had picked up and its noisy approach had thankfully pulled him back to his senses. He found that he was in a sweat and his hands were shaking as he wiped his brow. What the heck was he thinking about? Ed was no threat to him. What was his mind doing to him and why was he picturing Ed this way?
Tom had to remind himself that Sloan was bonded to him, not to Ed. It was practically common knowledge to anyone who knew them. Sloan was faithful to him and always would be. Tom knew that beyond a doubt. He had seen into the deepest part of Sloan and she into him. Nothing short of death could come between them. Forget about Ed. Ed is not a threat, he told himself. Ed was a friend and Sloan was lucky to have one like him - always loyal and always there for her. Even Tom had admitted that a long time ago. So, what was this all about?
Maybe, Tom reasoned, it wasn't the fact that Ed would always be there, as a friend, to helpSloan, but that he himself might not be. He said he would always be there for her, but in actuality, how reliable would he be? After all, he now had two species after his head and he'd already been captured by each of them - once by Lewis and then by the government. Even now, with Sloan on the run and homeless, he was thousands of miles away from her. What good was he to her now?
Tom then remembered back to that day he told Ed that Sloan was lucky to have a friend like him. Ed agreed. He was a good friend and always would be. But when Ed questioned Tom as to how good a friend he would be to Sloan, Tom had only replied that he would never hurt her. Never hurt her? Look what he did not long afterward? The one time he had fallen under Lewis' control by nothing more than a simple phrase, he came back to kill Sloan without an ounce of hesitation. It took Ed and Walter, not Tom, to save her life that time. And there was Ed again, coming to Sloan's rescue.
Tom always felt that Ed maintained a wariness of him, despite all the times Tom had proved his loyalty to them all. Why, he had even put his life on the line to test Ed's serum and to show Sloan just how much she meant to him. Even then, Ed's friendship was guarded. Tom had been manipulated before by Lewis. Whose to say that it wouldn't or couldn't happen again. Maybe, deep down, Tom couldn't trust himself either, and he subconsciously resented Ed for seeing this in him.
The more he thought about this, the more Tom felt his insecurities growing and he knew that this kind of self-reproach could only spell death for a chameleon. He needed to get a grip on himself before he went over the edge. Besides, now was not the time or the place to be working things out. It was cold and he knew Steve was anxious to get going again. He had to concentrate on regaining his inner strength and moving past this thing.
So, once again, Tom allowed his thoughts to turn back to Sloan but this time he focused only on their love. That was his real strength. He looked up at the stars and determined which direction was west. As he looked out over the car and beyond the valley, he pictured the mountains and plains that lay beyond and allowed his mind to soar over them, all the way to California, and to Sloan. His arms dropped to his sides and his coat blew open as he stretched his senses out as far as they would go, searching for that vibrant essence that identified his beloved. They returned to him empty, as he knew they would, but he had to try anyway. Somehow, he felt that Sloan would be doing the same thing and the thought satisfied him. That's what he wanted to feel, not some wild hallucination about Ed. Then, with a sigh, he stopped what he was doing and headed for the car.
Steve's eyes flew open at the sound of the slamming door. He stifled a yawn as he looked at Tom. "I'm not even going to ask what you were doing out there so long, but you're red as a beet from the wind."
Tom looked up and saw that Steve's cheeks were also red, although the color seemed to be fading as the heat of the car warmed them up. "So are you."
Then Tom looked down at his reddened hands and could only imagine what his face must look like. He was frozen through and through and wished he had come back to the car when Steve did. He looked down at his watch. He had only been outside for about fifteen minutes or so but it felt like a lifetime.
Steve touched his own face and it still felt cold. "Well, that settles it then. Forget about reaching Chatham tonight. I say let's get off this desolate road and head for a town with a hotel." He leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder. "Alexander, what towns are near here?
Alexander? Tom looked up to see the back of the driver's thick neck. The driver's name was Alexander? To Tom, it seemed an unlikely name for someone who looked like a hitman straight out of a Mario Puzo novel. Well, looks could certainly be deceiving.
Alexander shrugged and reached down to turn on the Auto-Map and watched it glow to life. It was clear he was annoyed at the deviation in plans as he punched in the appropriate coordinates on the electronic keypad. "Nearest I can tell, someplace called Patterson. I'll have to get off the Taconic at the next exit. Might take 20 minutes to a half an hour to get there."
"Well, that's better than another two or three hours to Chatham. Let's do it." Then, turning to Tom, he added, "How does a hot meal, a hot shower, and a warm bed sound?"
"Pretty good." Tom returned Steve's smile.
The car bumped a bit as it pulled off the shoulder and back into the lane. Both Tom and Steve leaned back against the seat and Tom soon fell fast asleep as the car sped toward the next exit.