See Part One for Disclaimers
"Well?" Maggie was clearing up the dishes as Marcus came into her galley. It was well into the small hours by now, and he had lost all sense of time.
"Naomi?"
"Still asleep. Here, sit down before you fall down."
True, he was more tired that he had thought it possible to be. Every muscle ached and he could feel the flare of infection hot around his back.
"Over did it a little," he sighed as he sank into the chair she indicated.
"Did you find out what has been happening? Where the children are?" Maggie returned with a cup of water and two tiny blue pills. "Take these, they will help bring your temperature down. I should check those dressings again as well."
"Later, Maggie. I'm not sure I can move right now."
She looked at him in concern, noting the deepening lines across his brow. "You need to rest --"
He caught her arm. "No, let me tell you what I found out. Then we must get word to Garibaldi and the others." He laughed softly. "It's my New Year's resolution, to get those children back to their parents. All of them," he added with savage conviction.
"It started with a couple on Mars who were turned down for adoption because of their age and the fact that the man was diagnosed terminally ill. After all, what life could a child be offered in such circumstances? Anyway, the man had used Shaker to transport various illegal artifacts for his company. Somehow the difficulty he was having came up and Shaker offered his services, for a hefty price as you can imagine.
"That was the first of many, and not just from Babylon five, though this area of Down Below seemed an ideal hunting ground. Maggie, there are hundreds of children out there, hundreds who have passed through Shaker's hands." His fingers tightened on the cup he still held, knuckles gleaming white against the dark blue china.
"They had the children kidnapped early evening or late morning, papers were ready for them within the hour and the kids smuggled out as patients on transfer or return to their home planet. All this at the heaviest traffic time, security would be stretched with the transports coming and going. Not once have they been stopped, not once did anyone query the orders. Stephen and Garibaldi will hit the roof when I tell them what has been happening. Not all the children were taken out that way though, some were drugged and crated for shipment like so much cargo."
"My God, Marcus. Those poor infants." Maggie held back her tears with a visible effort. "What happened to them?"
Marcus tight smile held no humour. "Shaker very kindly gave me the information crystal that holds all his records. It seems he doesn't like to leave it anywhere and so carries it with him, for safety. His hiding place was a little uncomfortable but I'm sure he feels better for passing it on."
Maggie's lips twitched appreciatively at his humour.
"Naomi's people were only supposed to be passing through the station. They were going to hand her over to new adoptive parents, further out toward the rim. A couple who didn't mind her latent telepathic powers and who could keep her hidden from PsiCorps. When they got here it was the middle of the Christmas celebrations. They were down on the Zocalo when the raid was taking place, in the confusion that occurred she got separated from them and somehow ended up Down Below. I can only think that she saw me, remembered me. And that while I was delirious, my barriers right down she managed to reach my mind. I have had no sense of her since then."
"I'll get you something to eat, then I will change your dressings. Naomi will be up soon, I think you should take her as soon as possible. Reunite her with her parents, Marcus."
"I intend to." He sank back into the chairs comforting embrace and let the tiredness seep through him.
***
Stephen's first indication that something odd was happening in his surgery was the sudden turning of heads toward the door. He turned to follow the amazed looks his staff was sending that way. In the door stood Marcus, next to him a small blonde girl some six years old. One hand was tightly gripping Marcus' the other held a ragged doll of indeterminate age.
"Marcus?" Stephen headed forward and watched the child shrink closer to the Ranger. He slowed his impetuous stride and smiled gently at the little girl. "Hello, Naomi. It's nice to see you again."
Deep brown eyes looked at him for a moment then up at Marcus.
"Do you remember Stephen, Naomi? He met you here last year, when you arrived with your mother and father."
She nodded, still unsure but accepting Marcus' word implicitly.
"I need to talk to Stephen for a moment, would you sit over there for me? I'll be right here," he added, seeing the frightened look return to her eyes.
Quickly he filled Franklin in on all that had occurred. Dipping into his pocket he brought out the crystal. "I'll have to leave this with you. I promised Maggie I would personally take Naomi to her parents. Delenn isn't looking for me is she?"
No, she is still off station with the Captain but they are both due back later today. What do we tell them?"
"I'll leave that to your creative genius. Do you have a location for the Siskins? I'll be off as soon as I have changed."
"You might want to look in on Ivanova. She was pretty upset over your disappearance. We had you figured for dead, especially as we could find no trace of you on the station."
"Susan -- upset?" His mind turned over the possibilities, rejecting them one by one. Susan might have been miffed that he had vanished but she had never indicated she cared a jot for him. The flutter of excitement that had churned within him died as he decided Franklin exaggerated her concerns.
"I'll catch up with you all in a few days, when I have dropped Naomi off and had a chat with one or two of Shaker's associates. Don't worry, Stephen," he said, seeing the frown descending on the doctor's face, "I'll take it easy. Maggie would kill me if I did any more damage to her stitches."
"You'd better let me take a look while you are here. Don't pull that face, get up there."
His examination was thorough and the accompanying grunts and tuts left Marcus wondering just what was wrong. He felt fine, tired and a little achy, but nothing worse.
"Well, I don't know how, but the wound on your shoulder is just about healed, the one on your back is ready for the stitches to come out. I'd like to meet the woman who did that. I haven't seen a stitched wound since medical training. It's a good job, very good."
"I'm sure Maggie would love to meet you. When I get back we'll go and find her. I'll want to bring her up to date on Naomi." He slid off the bed and held out a hand to the child still sitting patiently waiting. She ran to him, grabbed his hand and said quickly, "Can we find mummy now?"
"We are on our way. Stephen, would you let Garibaldi know that Shaker is down in Grey 16, I left him tied to a rather heavy piece of pipe work, behind some packing cases. Oh, you might want to send one of the doctors along as well."
Stephen's brow raised enquiringly.
"We had a little chat, about this and that." Marcus explained, succinctly.
"Right --"
***
Four days later, Marcus returned to the station to be met by a solemn welcoming committee. Dr Franklin waited with Ivanova and Garibaldi. Michael and Stephen tackled him about his mission as they walked toward the meeting with Captain Sheridan and Delenn. Susan kept a pace behind them, her eyes burning into his back.
They left him at the door, having already given their versions of events he was on his own. When he left two hours later, he felt as though he had been put through a wringer. Captain Sheridan's anger had been understandable, but Delenn's gentle disapproval hurt him more. They understood what and why, but were more disturbed at the secret way in which their staff had behaved.
He headed back to his quarters, subdued, still stiff from his injuries. With his eyes fixed on the floor, contemplating the disciplinary action Delenn might seek to impose, he almost walked into Commander Ivanova.
"Cole." He caught the hint of menace in her voice, looked up quickly and saw the anger in her eyes.
"Hello, Susan," he said with his usual bounce. "I'm sorry about that little mess up. You got back alright then. Did Stephen tell you about Naomi? Of course he did --"
"You're babbling, Cole. Shut up."
"Sorry. Won't you come in?"
"No." She suddenly remembered her resolution. She would not get pulled into his sphere of influence again. "Did you get a clean bill of health?"
"Yes," he said slowly, wondering where her question was leading.
"Next time you do that to me Cole, I am going to tear you limb from limb. Do you understand me?"
"No, I don't think I do." His heart was pounding loudly in his ears. His hopes rose as her anger took on another meaning for him.
She turned from him, hurrying down the passage his confused gaze tracking the enticing sway of her hips. And then he was moving, following her swiftly retreating form; calling her name. He slipped through the closing transport doors with millimetres to spare.
"I thought you were going back to your quarters, Cole." She kept her eyes away from his.
"Thought I would go and fill Maggie in on Naomi. Take her the picture she drew for her, that kind of thing. Care to join me?"
Susan was quiet for so long he thought she was deliberately ignoring him, but then she replied. "Okay. I'd like to meet the woman who looked after Naomi. We owe her a debt. Which floor?"
They rode the rest of the way in silence. Susan exited first and Marcus indicated which way to turn. They kept pace with one another, Marcus flicking the occasional glance at Susan, waiting for some word or gesture to indicate she knew he was there. Turning down a bleak corridor he finally spoke. "Her rooms are just around the corner. Don't be surprised if her boys are there. Great guys, but just a little intimidating."
Rounding the corner they faced a blank wall. No door; no access of any kind was visible. Marcus stopped dead in his tracks, turned back a few steps to check his position and came back to face the dirty grey walls. "It was here, right here."
"Maybe you were turned around a little. You weren't a hundred percent after all."
"No. I have a photographic memory when it comes to finding my way around. Once I have done a route, it's there for life. This is where Maggie's quarters should be!"
His hands ran over the dark walls, feeling for seams or a hidden door, anything that would vindicate his beliefs. Aware of Susan's contemplative gaze resting on him, he turned to face her.
"I am not going mad, nor did I imagine this. Look --" He pulled out the rolled piece of paper tucked in his belt. Unfurling it, he presented her with the drawing Naomi had sketched for Maggie. It portrayed Marcus in typical Ranger pose, pike extended by his side. At least that was the impression Susan received from the stick like drawing.
"It's very nice, but are you sure this wasn't meant for you?"
He shook his head, frustrated. "Damn it, no!"
"Look, it's been a hard shift for me, I just want to go back to my quarters, take a shower and hit the sack. We can discuss this tomorrow, okay?"
"No, it's not okay. Susan --"
But she was already moving away from him, eyes shuttered, her posture screaming out her wish for solitude. He dogged her heels all the way to her door, trying to explain that he had not blown a fuse, or overdosed on some ancient Minbari hallucinogen. Her door swished open and he followed her in, uninvited.
"What the hell!" She advanced on him, as he stood in the middle of her room still disclaiming.
"I'll prove it to you," he stated. With hurried fingers he began stripping off his cloak, quickly followed by his tunic, not noticing the panic that gleamed briefly in her eyes. Turning his back to her he exposed the still healing scar held together by Maggie's stitches. "Is this a figment of my imagination? Well, is it?"
"Marcus --"
He turned, panicked at the concern in her voice. His hand moved to where the scar should be and found nothing. For a moment his brain refused to accept what his fingers told him. Was he going mad after all? Was this a delusion? If he were dreaming this -- He took two strides to Susan's side and pulled her close to him, if this were his dream then -- His lips caught hers in a savage, passionate kiss. He poured all of his feelings into the contact, pulling her closer and closer.
The resultant slap almost took his head from his shoulders and set up a ringing in his ears that refused to desist.
"I think he's coming round. Get Doctor Franklin, hurry."
Bloody Hell, am I back in Med Lab again, he thought, the ringing still persistent in his ears. He opened his eyes slowly and took in the now familiar sights and sounds of Stephen's domain. Just how hard had she hit him?
"Well, about time too. You had us worried this time, Marcus. Here, let me help you up."
"Just how hard did Susan hit me?" Marcus was surprised to find his voice rose barely above a whisper.
"Susan? What are you talking about? You were shot just over a week ago, don't you remember? You got in the way of a trigger happy Santa. The raid on the jewellers? Look, just take it easy for a while, some memory loss isn't unheard of for someone who has been unconscious as long as you have been."
"Unconscious?" Marcus' mind whirled with disbelief. Reluctantly he moved his hand to his back, feeling for the stitches that should be there -- only smooth skin met his searching fingers.
"Valen," he hissed through clenched teeth, he really was delusional.
A small commotion attracted their attention as Garibaldi strode in with a young blonde child in his arms, the youngster protesting loudly at being carried.
"Naomi?" Marcus closed his eyes, then opened them again. Surely he was going mad.
Garibaldi put the child down and she ran straight for Marcus, hiding behind his bed. "She doesn't seem any the worse for her ordeal, as you can see," Michael began, "her parents are on their way, should be with you any minute."
Stephen tried to talk to the child who by now was crouched in the corner where Marcus could just make out her blonde curls. "Naomi," he called softly.
"The kid's name is Verity, not Naomi. Where did you get that name from?" Stephen began to edge around the bed.
"In my dreams," Marcus felt the world was turning upside down around him.
Two smartly dressed young people came in then, and Verity ran to them, hugging the woman tightly. Marcus watched the scene with a detachment that surprised him.
"She vanished the same day you were shot. The whole station has been looking for her." Stephen leaned against Marcus' bed, arms folded. "I do like a happy ending."
Two days later Franklin finally released Marcus from Med Lab. He made his way slowly toward Down Below. He needed to see and be seen again. Too long out of the loop and his influence and position would have to be re-established. A time consuming and physically challenging procedure that he just wasn't fit enough for right now.
As he walked down the last corridor, mind engaged on trying to sort out fact from fiction, he caught the faintest whiff of lavender. Turning, he saw the retreating back of a small elderly woman, grey hair elegantly coiled around her head. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and on opening them again was glad to see the corridor empty. He entered the bar and quickly took a seat calling for service.
"Bartender, what is the most potent beverage you serve?"
"Arcturian slinger," came the morose reply.
"Give me a double."
The End
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