And then there were five For Amethyst Part 12 CHAPTER SEVEN David wearily checked his calendar, realizing that a mere two hours after talking to Hastings, he now faced another round with Gerrard Mason. Worse, he already knew how this meeting would go. With dozens of issues crowding in on him, one of them had to give. By the time Mason walked through his door, David had the paperwork out on his desk. Mason's project still hadn't produced a viable child, but it had made further progress, and approving the project merge would buy David more time to decide what to do about Mark. As Mason took a seat, David said, "I have one major condition if we're to merge our projects." "And that is?" Mason looked oddly sedate for a man who'd been trying to talk him into this over a span of three years. "You'll tell me here and now where your original sample came from." Mason flashed a lopsided, if sad, smile. "The Cosmic Patrol came across a drifting alien shuttle not far from the Crab Nebula. Everyone on board had been killed, and the shuttle had been stripped of all supplies, fuel, and components the attackers might have found useful." The Crab Nebula. So likely Spectran attackers. David nodded, a knot of tension building between his shoulder blades. "The patrol salvaged the ship and the bodies were passed to a group of Federation scientists," Mason continued, "as a rare chance to explore elusive alien DNA. Space's intense cold had damaged most of them far beyond any successful extractions, but one member of the crew had been pregnant. While she and the child were long dead, we were able to extract a few embryonic cells for study." Another child who lost parents -- or at least a mother -- to Spectra. Was this the truth? Or had Mason spun this specifically to make his decision easier? David watched him closely. "And what did you find?" "That this DNA is very fragile," sighed Mason. "We have only the single embryonic cell left, which is why we've resorted to cloning. But the project was deemed promising enough that we were spun into our own unit, so we could entirely focus on this one being, and that's where we've been ever since." David hesitated a moment. "This can't just be about the G-Force project, then." "It wasn't. The Federation heads aren't comfortable with races we know so little about. If we ever had to fight them, or rescue them, we needed to know their capabilities along with their weaknesses." Which explained the contents of some of Mason's reports. David wasn't foolish enough to believe that this was the full, unadulterated story, but he also wasn't naive enough to think that he'd ever learn the real truth. They had only two children for the team so far. Even if he implanted Mark, that would bring the team to just three, while their research demanded five for full effectiveness. Paulson had asked him to start with security staff's children because their staff was most likely to understand the need, and consent. When Mark was the only viable option among the staff's children, Paulson had David branch out to orphans, in part due to consent issues and in part because the children wouldn't have families the enemy could exploit. While Paulson hadn't said as much, David also suspected that another reason was that orphans had no family to go home to if they quit, they'd bond with the team instead. So the search had begun on Earth, and expanded into orphanages across the Federation. He'd never imagined it would be so hard to children with exactly the right combination of genetics, nervous system, health, chemical balance, and other necessary attributes. The cerebonic systems were so complex that there was no simple formula or statistic that could guide them. Every child had to be run through computer modeling. An overwhelming majority were predicted to either never survive the surgery, or die amidst a terrible neural havoc. So in order to collect enough data without the enemy catching on, the preliminary tests were done under the guise of standard health care, which was provided free to orphans under Federation mandate. At times, David caught himself wondering what other programs quietly took advantage of this "free" service, but he had enough ethical quandaries plaguing his sleep. Such as the paperwork on his desk. David flipped through it, feeling time slip away, and finally accepting that he was fooling himself if he thought he had a choice. Ignoring the taste of bile, he signed the paperwork, then called Rona in to take it. While he waited, he said to Mason, "Start planning the move. You're now part of the G-Force project." From Mason's grin, David suspected the man already had. # David had a spare moment, so he stopped by the team's training area. Two months after Princess's implantation, she and Jason now trained together, her scrappy spirit making up somewhat for their differences in age and experience. He watched as the two worked on the reinforced gymnastics equipment, marvelling yet again at how much such tiny implants could alter the human body. Just as he turned to go, he spotted Mark, who watched them from the gymnasium's far corner. The seven-year-old looked unusually small, the way he sat scrunched up on the polished wooden floor. Small and lost. Was he even supposed to be there? David lifted his tablet and checked the children's schedules as Jason and Princess flipped and practically flew all over the gym. Their prototype uniforms weren't ready yet, but given the height and speed they were achieving, he couldn't wait to see how well the metamorphic material allowed them to glide. He finally found Mark's schedule and frowned. The boy should be having lunch, not watching the others. Since he had to run to a meeting, David texted Isabelle, asking her to check on their wayward child. Maybe Hastings was right. Maybe at this point, his only real choice was to bring Mark into the program. Certainly Charles continued to suggest it. If Madeline's own husband was willing to so easily ignore her wishes, David had to wonder if he was doing more harm than good, but any time he considered taking that step his stomach tied itself in knots. At this point he wasn't even sure if his reluctance was for Madeline's sake, or for his own. # As July arrived, David made an important decision. He booked his first full day off -- truly off, not working at all -- in years, and booked Mark off as well. The night before the planned event, he found Mark studying as usual, books spread out across his desk. Mark's confusion as he looked up just underscored how little normal time they spent together. Feeling a slight pang in his chest, David cleared his throat. "I made some special plans for us, for tomorrow." Mark blinked, a flicker of hope in his sky blue eyes. "What?" It struck David out of the blue that Mark looked more like his mother every day. Was that one reason it was so hard to let Madeline's wishes go? "Do you know what tomorrow is?" The boy's brows knit together for a moment. "Friday?" David smiled sadly. "That too. I meant the date. Tomorrow's July eighth." For a moment Mark stared at him in silence. Then the color and light seemed to drain out of him. "Oh." The third anniversary of his mother's death. They'd marked the date the last two years by walking to her grave. This year, that wasn't possible. With all the other ways David had let Mark down, he hadn't wanted to let him down again. Not on this. "I thought we might pay your mother a visit." David watched him for any sign that Mark might not want to go. All he saw was confusion. "But she's in San Diego." "Yes. That's why I booked a flight." The thought of flying was apparently enough to spark life back into the boy's face. "Really?" David nodded. "Tomorrow we'll fly out in the morning, pick up some flowers when we arrive, and pay her a proper visit. Just you and me. Then we can spend some time in the city if you want. You used to like the San Diego Zoo." When Mark's eyes filled with tears, David feared that he'd completely mis-judged the situation. Except that the next thing the boy did was launch himself at him. Small arms that were surprisingly strong wrapped around David in a fierce hug. Still clinging, Mark turned his head like boys did the world over when they felt like they were too big to cry but couldn't help it. "Don't worry about finishing your homework tonight," said David, his voice rough with unexpected emotion. "You can finish it tomorrow night." He'd nearly said Mark could work on it on the plane, but then he'd realized that the boy would be spending his time staring out the window, pretending he was flying with his father. If he told Mark to do his homework then, he'd probably try, but David wanted the eighth to just be about Mark. About a boy who missed his parents. And he hoped to accomplish some soul-searching of his own along the way.