It was noon on Saturday when McQueen was startled out of his calligraphy project by the alert of his vidphone. The only reason he had the thing was in case of an alert on base. Wishing he could turn it off, he reached across his desk and pushed the respond button.

"McQueen here."

"Hey, Ty! You've got to rescue me again." Although the words were serious, the grin was apparent in the tone.

"Commander Ross?" The image came on, showing Ross in shorts and tee shirt.

"Come on, Ty. It's Saturday. I think Glenn will be fine. Besides, I need you to save me." Behind him, Mai came up and put her hands on his shoulders.

"He needs you to rescue him from us womenfolk. Spider's off at his girlfriend's and poor Glenn is stuck here with five women."

McQueen smiled slightly at the mental image.

"Come on, Ty. I saw that smile." Glenn pleaded. "Come on over and we'll have some real male bonding...maybe shoot some hoops."

McQueen shook his head ruefully. "There's just no getting around you." He made a quick calculation of when he had last taken one of the green meanies. About an hour ago, he should be good for the afternoon.

"Great!" Ross clapped his hands, "See you in what, an hour?"

"Yes, sir."

For the second time that week McQueen found himself pulling into the driveway of the suburban home on an unusually bright November day. In the front yard, two small girls cavorted in a pile of raked up leaves under the watchful eye of a slender young woman, probably in her early teens. Glenn Ross stood on a ladder, repairing the basketball hoop at the garage end of the driveway. When he noticed McQueen standing by his car he came down, grinning broadly.

"Am I glad to see you! The estrogen level at this house is about to drown me." He clapped McQueen on the shoulder. "Come on and meet the clan." He moved toward the house, stopping when he got to the group of three girls. "The oldest one here is my daughter, Miriamne, a sweet sixteen. The other two rascals are my nieces, Susan, who is six and just started school, and Peg who's going to be twelve in a month." He gestured toward the young ones. Mariamne was clearly destined to be a heart breaker. Tall and slim, she had her mother's warmth. The younger ones were still at the cute state, soft baby fat rounding their cheeks. Peg, the twelve year old, dimpled. The younger one looked up at McQueen solemnly, wrapping a honey brown curl around her finger.

"Who are you?"

Ross picked up the small one, chucking her under the chin. "This is Captain McQueen. He saved your Uncle Glenn's butt down in Cuba." The little one turned around in her uncle's arms and reached for McQueen. He hesitated, startled by the child's spontaneous gesture. Before he could do anything about it, she grasped his neck. His arms came up in an instinctive response. The next thing he knew, he held the child cradled against him, her arms around his neck. Ross took one look at his startled face and tried desperately not to break out into laughter.

"Thank you, Uncle Captain." She planted a solid kiss on his cheek, then squirmed to the ground and ran over to the swing set by the side of the yard. "Come on, Peggy, swing me." Both of the other girls followed her, leaving McQueen still somewhat befuddled and Ross holding his sides.

"Oh man, oh man, if you could see your face." He pulled McQueen's arm, "Come on, I'll introduce you to the little hussy's mom." The two men walked to the house, Ross still chuckling. They found the women in the study, leaning over a computer terminal.

Mai looked up and smiled her welcome, "Ah, here's the noble altruist. Leah, this is Captain Ty McQueen. He served with Glenn in the war. Ty, this is Ross' baby sister, Leah."

The woman, slightly younger than Mai and Ross, held out her hand. "Captain McQueen."

He took her hand and shook it. Glenn interrupted. "No. Let's stick with Glenn and Ty, no ranks for the duration. I'm only saying that because I intend to whip the socks off him on the court." Then he chuckled, "Mai, you shoulda seen Susu take him out. That little minx grabs ahold of him, looks in his eyes, and gives him a big kiss."

Leah smiled, "You don't have children, Ty?"

"No," he shook his head. "I've never actually thought about it."

"Well, let me tell you, they certainly can be a handful. Especially that 'little minx' of mine. She'll run you ragged if you let her."

Ross took McQueen's arm, "Come on, you're supposed to be saving me from these women, not comparing notes on parenthood."

A half hour later, and three games of ten points each of one-on-one, Ross sank to the pavement under the hoop. "Damn, you're good. Must be those jet jockey reflexes."

"Nah," McQueen grinned, "Good breeding."

"Was that a joke?" Ross looked at his friend, now sitting cross-legged, back against the pole. He couldn't remember ever seeing McQueen really relaxed. The November breezes picked up what little of his short blond hair it could, and ruffled it. His face seemed younger, maybe more like the adolescent he'd never had the chance to be. He'd taken off his shirt, and the scars gained in the AI POW cell were vivid against his pale skin. The three children who had become spectators to the impromptu tournament, stood up, ready for the next adventure. Glenn motioned to his daughter, "Miri, sweets. Go get 'Uncle Captain' and me a beer, would you, honey?"

She grinned at him, "Sure, Dad. You're getting too old for this game, you know. Captain McQueen slaughtered you."

"Hey, he's not that much younger than me." Glenn reached out as if to swat the youngster as she ran off to get the beers.

"Yeah, I am." McQueen let his head fall back against the post, "I've only been out of the tank 15 years."

"Well, as my old daddy used to say, 'It ain't the years, its the mileage'." Glenn realized that that was the first time he'd heard McQueen refer to his InVitro origins with no hint of bitterness or sorrow. He looked up to see his younger niece approaching McQueen. Given the amusement value of their last interactions, Glenn waited with baited breath to see what would happen next. She knelt on the pavement in front of him. Sensitive to the approach of another person, McQueen opened his eyes and sat up.

"Is that an owie?" The child pointed at the scar on the left side of his chest. McQueen rubbed the scar with his hand.

"It used to be. Now its just a scar."

She looked at his body critically, with all the solemn attention a six year old can muster. "You've got lots of used to be's."

He followed her gaze and looked down at the various scars acquired at different times in his life. "Yeah. I guess I do." With his head bent down, the raised flesh at the back of his neck also became apparent. Susu stood up and moved closer, touching it with one finger,

"Is that a used to be, too?"

Ross watched the scene unfolding. He'd expected humor, but just how would his friend respond to such an innocent request about something that clearly held a lot of pain for him.

McQueen didn't answer, but leaned his head back so that the child's finger was no longer in contact with the navel. He searched her face, looking for... looking for what. "No, that's my navel."

Susu grinned, "Don't be silly, a navel is the same as a belly button, its on your belly." Susan's sister suddenly realized what was going on and stepped forward quickly, grabbing Susan's hand,

"Susu, Captain McQueen's an InVitro, like your cyberteacher talked about the other day. You remember, the whole thing about Abraham Lincoln and slaves and indentures." McQueen continued to hold the younger child's gaze. She took her hand from her sister's and put one finger in her mouth. Blue eyes met sherry brown as she pondered this bit of information. Glenn held his breath, too. McQueen could almost see the gears turning in her mind. Then she took her finger out of her mouth and nodded,

"Okay. Uncle Captain, can you play jacks?"

"Uh," McQueen cleared his throat, "No. What's 'jacks'?"

"I'll show you." She turned on her heel and made for the house, Peggy right behind her. Glenn shook his head,

"That's the future, Ty." He looked up toward the house, the little girl running towards it. "She doesn't give a damn where your navel is, either."

"Right, I'll just have to wait 'til she grows up, I guess." McQueen closed his eyes again and started to nod off.

"You do that often?" McQueen jerked awake to Ross's question.

"What?"

"Just fall asleep that way." Ross grinned, "Can't be too healthy for a jet jock."

McQueen shook himself, realizing that he was coming down from the meanie he had taken earlier in the day. "No, I just work too hard." He stood up and grabbed his shirt, lying by the court. Slipping it on, he picked up the flight jacket laying next to it. Surreptitiously he felt in the pocket for the capsule he'd put in it before he left his quarters.

"I gotta go to the head." Ross stood too and the two men walked up to the house, meeting Miriamne on the way out with two cans of beer in her hands.

"Better watch out, 'Uncle Captain'. Susu's tearing my room apart to find her jacks." She handed him the beer. "I have to warn you, the kid's a shark. She beat me out of 50 cents, before Aunt Leah told me that she's her school's champion." Miramne handed her father the other beer and went back inside. Ross accepted the beer and turned to McQueen,

"You remember how to find it?" McQueen nodded and walked to the bathroom. Inside, he turned the lock and looked at himself in the mirror, setting the frosty can down on the vanity.

"Top Cat, this is getting to be a habit with you." He reached into the inner pocket and pulled out the green capsule. Using the beer to wash it down, he grimaced at the man in the mirror. "Well, at least you didn't go off on anyone today. Now if we can just make it through the rest of the evening..." He left the bathroom, finding the rest of the party on the patio at the back of the house. The women, including Miriamne, were perusing photos, taken at the last gathering. Ross lay on a lounge chair, his guitar across his belly, idly playing riffs. The two young girls were not in sight, but their voices could be heard from upstairs. Apparently the wayward jacks had not yet been found. He wandered over to the barbecue pit where the coals were smoldering.

"Did you want this started?" He turned to Ross.

"Yeah, 10 years in the SEALs and I never could start a campfire. The other men on the team used to call me 'wet blanket'." His sister looked up from the photo in her hand and grinned.

"I'll bet they called you that for other reasons." She looked at her sister in law, "Is he any more adventurous? He used to never come with me when I had these brilliant ideas."

Ross went through a rock and roll riff on the guitar, "That's because when we got caught, you were Miss Innocent, and I was the one who caught it from Dad." He turned to McQueen, "Yeah, I want those charcoals going, and I have a feeling you'd do a better job of it than I would. We have genuine steaks for the grill, at no small cost I might add. The matches and starter are there on the table."

McQueen started the fire again. This time the charcoal caught and began to burn happily. McQueen wandered away from the pit, taking swigs from the beer in his hand. The alcohol might help him slow down a little from the affects of the meanies. God, now he was balancing his intoxicants. In spite of the mood-elevating affect of the drug, he came to the realization that there was really only one way out of this situation. The question was getting to be how.

A small hand tugged at the tail of his jacket, "Uncle Captain, I found my jacks. You wanna play?" she drew him over to the pavement, where she sat down spraddle legged. He knelt beside her. "It's really easy, just throw the ball in the air and pick up the jacks." She demonstrated, tossing the jacks on the ground, then picking them up one by one, picking up the small pieces as deftly as a bird picking up seed. She started with two by two, when he caught the ball in mid air, before she could catch it.

"Why?"

Cocking her head to one side like that small bird, she looked at him. "Why what?"

He motioned to the jacks, "Why do you do this?"

She grinned, "Because I'm very good at it. It's really fun. Most grown-ups can't do it, but I'll bet you can."

McQueen pondered that for a moment, then scooped up the pieces, casting them as he'd seen her do. The onesies were easy. The twosies were a little harder. Not aware of the subtleties of the game, he threw the jacks too far apart. He became aware that the adults seated around the patio had stopped what they were doing and were watching him play a child's game with a six year old. He started to hand SuSu back the ball, when Miriamne came and sat cross-legged beside him,

"Oh, no, Captain McQueen. You keep going until you miss one. Then its my turn."

Ross leaned the guitar against the table and sat up. "You're good at this, too."

McQueen finished the twos and started on the threes before grinning up at the Commander, "Must be those jet- jockey reflexes."

"Yeah", Ross returned the grin, "Or that 'good breeding'."

Before much longer, Ross was treated to the sight of his very intense "Corps to the core" friend, surrounded by three young girls, playing jacks. Mai and Leah went into the house, bringing out the food, as well as another round of drinks. The jacks game ended, and McQueen claimed the chair next to Ross's lounger. The girls didn't seem to want to leave, and Susu climbed into McQueen's lap. Peggy, apparently the more serious of the two, sat next to him in another chair.

"Captain McQueen?" Her voice was hesitant. He turned to her somewhat cautiously, that tone of voice usually meant something was coming.

"Yeah."

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"You just did." He half smiled.

"Well," she paused, looking for the right words, "I don't mean to be rude. but..."

Her mother stopped her, "Peggy, whenever someone starts a sentence with 'I don't mean to be rude', the chances are real good that they are getting ready to be just that."

"Well, maybe, but how do you find things out if you don't ask?" Glenn shook his head,

"She's got you there, sis." Turning to Peggy, "But, there is still such a thing as respect."

Taking that as permission, she turned back to McQueen. "The kids at school were talking. Bill McAllister says that the reason the war took so long, was because the ta...er In Vitros, wouldn't fight. He says that we would have gotten rid of the AIs in three years if the 'stink...'er, you know, would have done their jobs."

McQueen had tensed at her first words, but had to smile at the child's softening of the hurtful words. "Do I stink?"

Peggy wrinkled her nose, taking a deep sniff, "Well, you didn't when you got here, but you and Uncle Glenn are both pretty whiffy by now."

"I guess it's not an InVitro thing, then." Ross grinned, then more seriously, "As to the other, this man in front of you has been awarded a Purple Heart, a Silver Star, and any number of other bits of fruit salad. If your buddy wants to talk about InVitros in the service, you can bring me and Captain McQueen to school for show and tell."

"Uncle Glenn, I'm too old for show and tell." The whine was the quintessential preadolescent.

The tense moment ended, and the steaks went on the grill. McQueen found himself paradoxically relaxing in the presence of these people who seemed not to have a problem with the circumstances of his birth and being irritated at their naiveté that they didn't see that it was a problem. The meal was simple: steak, baked potato, fresh salad of greens and tomatoes.

"This is delicious, Mai." McQueen turned to the lady of the house.

"Thank you, Ty." She looked with some disapproval at his still mostly full plate, "But you've got to eat more if you're going to put some meat on those bones of yours. The other night I thought you didn't like my cooking, you left so much on your plate." McQueen looked at his plate, "I just don't eat very much." He pushed the food around the plate, aware from his research that his lack of appetite was an affect of the drug he had taken, "The food is good. I've never had home-cooked food before, and now I've had it twice in one week."

"Well, if you'll return Glenn's calls a little more frequently, you'll end up getting home-cooked dinners even more often."

With the meal ended and the dishes cleaned up, the children played on the patio, listening to grown-up talk and going after the occasional fire fly who hadn't yet figured out that winter was on its way. Mai came out of the kitchen,

"Glenn, we're out of ice cream. Can you and Ty go get some?" The children ran up, each expressing her desire to go too. Ross shook them off with a practiced hand.

"No, this time I get 'Uncle Captain' all to myself. You guys get ready for bed, and we'll have that ice cream when we get back."

In the vehicle on the way to the store McQueen let his head fall back against the head rest.

"I enjoyed your family, Glenn."

"Yeah, they're something else. They like you, too."

McQueen's eyes drifted shut. The stopping of the car jarred him to sudden alertness, and he rubbed his face, uncertain for that instant what was going on or where he was. Even with the drug, he realized he was more relaxed than he could remember ever being. The brightly lit ice cream shop was across the parking lot from the car. The shop was busy, after all it was Saturday night. Inside were the women and their children, the young lovers, and older couples, enjoying one another's company and the sweet treats. Outside in the parking lot, there was a group of young men with one or two young women. The boys obviously considered themselves "tough", what passed for a gang in this upper middle class neighborhood. McQueen smiled to himself at their swaggering, comparing them to the men and women under his command who really were tough. He caught at Ross's arm and gestured to the swaggering lot.

"What do you think...those the Marines of the future?" Ross glanced in the direction of the gesture and smirked,

"Sure as Hell not navy."

They got out of the car and started towards the shop. One of the young women noticed them and whispered to her companion. She called out. "Hey, sweet cheeks!" McQueen and Ross both looked towards her, and continued to walk. "I mean you!" She ran over and planted herself in front of McQueen. "You look good enough to eat. Want me to?"

McQueen stopped in his place, hands to his sides, "No, thank you."

She looked over her shoulder to make sure that her companions were watching. "Aw, come on." She reached one hand out towards his crotch, "Don't you like women?"

He held the hand that came toward him and shook his head, still smiling. "No, thank you."

Ross stood beside him, grinning like a fool. "Let's face it, McQueen, you just attract the ladies of all ages."

The condescending smiles were not the reaction the young woman had hoped to provoke. The jeers of her friends pushed her on. The ice blue of McQueen's eyes kept her back. She turned to the side, barely giving him room to pass. As he did, she thrust out her chest, hoping at least to catch his attention with her endowments. When he got past, she noted the small dimple on the back of his neck.

"Ooh, a nipple neck!" She jerked back and wiped her hands on her skirt. Ross watched McQueen's face as he closed down. The clear blue eyes became opaque, unreadable. The girl turned and rejoined her group, whispering to them and gesturing toward himself and McQueen.

"Come on, Ty. Let's go get the fudge ripple." He pulled on his friend's arm. They walked into the ice cream shop, the whispers having preceded them.

Beyond making their order, neither said anything. The ice cream was served, bagged and paid for. Glenn could feel the tension rising in his friend as the words "tank" and "tank lover" rose above the general conversation. They walked from the store into the parking lot and Glenn became aware that they had another problem. The young men in the parking lot were between them and the car, looking belligerent.

"Hey, man. What you doing with the tank?" The boy in the lead was determinedly scruffy, probably no older than Spider. He stood in front of Glenn, close enough that Glenn could smell the pizza on his breath.

" Kid, we do not want any trouble." He backed up to walk around the young man.

"Hold on, mister. Is this boy your indentured?"

Ty stiffened beside him. He put a hand in front of him, down at his side. "Hold on, Ty." He stepped towards the boy, "Young man, I would suggest you watch what you say."

The boy snorted, "What, is he your boy toy?"

Now McQueen pushed past Ross's hand. "You want to try me out, boy?" Both the language and the stance were uncharacteristic,

"Ty," Glenn warned. Before he could say more, the boy took a swing at McQueen, to be answered with a swift jab to the nose. The boy fell back, holding his nose. McQueen lunged for him. "McQueen!" Glenn tried to grab him and missed, giving McQueen the chance to plant his foot in small of the boy's back. "Captain McQueen, stand down!" He held him by both arms, swinging him around so that they both faced away from the target. Ty was once more in control of himself when they both turned to face the crowd again.

The leader struggled to his feet, one hand holding his nose, blood streaming down his face, "That fucking tank broke my nose. Who holds his leash?"

"This is Captain TC McQueen, USMC. I'm Commander Glenn Ross. If any of you want to take this up with the military, please feel free to do so. But I'll tell you, lad...you're damned lucky to be alive. If he hadn't stopped, you'd be dead. He's a soldier, bred and trained to do the job." With a hand on his shoulder, Glenn guided Ty to the car. McQueen got in and turned his head to look at the group of teenagers in the parking lot. He turned back and stared ahead.

"That's my reality, Commander. Your family... you... nice, but not real. Those are the fucks I deal with." He shook his head, "You make me want, make me think...I let down my guard there. It can't happen again." Once again, the ride to Ross' house was silent. At the house, McQueen went to his car.

"Say good-bye to the girls for me, and thank Mai for the meal."

Mai awakened, knowing it was the wee small hours, to a lonely bed. The soft strains of guitar led her to the study where Glenn sat in his favorite chair, playing mindlessly. His eyes were unfocused. She entered the room and knelt down in front of the chair, putting her hand on his,

"What?" She questioned softly.

He started, then focused on her. Shrugging, "Ty."

"What about him?"

He put the guitar down, stroking her hair. "Something's wrong. Besides the obvious, I mean." He shook his head, "If you could see how people treat him. I just don't get it. We made them, we designed them to be like us, then we treat them like some sort of subhuman."

"Glenn, there's always been bigotry. A hundred years ago, the target would have been you. And the reality hasn't changed, you are enough of a realist to know that racism is just as economic and political now as it was then. If the IVs are considered human, then you can't buy and sell them the way the IVA does now. You can't have different rules for IVs and natural borns."

"Yeah," he nodded, "I know... it's just not fair. And, there's something else going on. He's under some sort of pressure. Damned if I can figure it out. His Zen training seems to be failing him, though, and there's nothing else to hold him up."

She lay her head against his knee. "God, I love you. Glenn, you are a good man. You see something wrong, and you want to fix it." Now she stood and moved to the other chair. "I know you hoped that this nine months together would fix our marriage, and if I though that the rest of our marriage would be like this, it would work. But, Glenn, you know as soon as this conference is over, you're off to space again. I don't want to be a part-time wife anymore."

He picked up the guitar again, strumming softly, "I know, baby. Sometimes love just ain't enough. I can't give up space. It's too...it's me. It's what I am. You...you need someone to be here."

"Almost," she chuckled softly, "You've been off on your adventures for 17 years, and I've been staying back, keeping the home fires burning. Now I ready to go adventuring. I'm a half decent programmer, I got a job with a trouble-shooting company. My first job will start next June in Italy for a year. Miri will get to see all those places she's been reading about. Then next year, I'm going to be sent out to the Procyon System."

The guitar plunked, "You're going into space?!'

"Yep. You've been telling me about that beauty for 17 years, I want to see it. Miri will either be in college or come with me. Spider will have finished his first year, either of college or the service, whichever he chooses by then." She stood back up and walked over to him, reaching out her hand, "Be happy for me, baby. It's what I want."

He took her hand and held it against his face, then turned it and kissed the palm. "You know I love you, I want you to be happy." He put the guitar back down and stood by Mai. With his free hand he pulled, her to him, then ran his hand down her back. He slid his other hand across her shoulder, pulling her into an even closer embrace.

Next : Chapter III

Previous : Chapter I