Regenesis

Paul shook his head. “Didn’t. He hid it, when we came across. They had it–for a while. But we got it back. I hope it’s still all right.”

“If it isn’t,” Justin said, “I can fix it. Paul, I canfix it. I love you. You’re family. I won’t let anything happen to you. I won’t. Believe that.”

“Have to,” Paul said glumly. “I’m full of pills.”

Justin pulled out the case again. Took out another. “I want you to take this one.”

“Too much.”

“Do it, Paul. Just do it.”

Paul’s critical faculty was diminishing by the second. He hesitated, which was how strong he was; but after a moment’s insistence, he took it, and swallowed it dry. One pill of that dosage was heavy enough. Two was a sledgehammer, and after a moment Paul lay down on the bed and just stared at the ceiling.

Justin set about it, then, activated the tape function on the minder, fed the stick in, let it process, took the stick back.

“I’m getting a little glazed,” Paul said. “Justin, boy, you had better be truthful.”

“I am, Paul.” Echoes, from decades ago. Two boys who’d ducked past the minder and gotten down to the arcade in the mall. Paul had asked them–asked them if they’d lied to him.

“No,” they’d both said. He’d taught Grant to lie. Useful, in the occupation they’d undertaken, in the times they’d lived in. “I won’t lie to you, Paul. How’s Jordan been? Will you tell me the truth?”

“Hell,” Paul said on a sigh, a hollow voice. “Just hell.”

“I got that idea,” he said. “But it won’t be, after this. You just listen to the tape, Paul, and I’ll have something to say to you in a bit.”

He pushed the button. He let it run. It took about a quarter hour, and it was nothing but Paul’s exact tape, the same that Paul had had from his earliest boyhood years, simple things, simple principles, simplest instructions. Back to utter basics.

Down to deep sets.

He watched the time run. He saw all the tension go from Paul’s face, as if he’d shed years; and he kept very; very still, and didn’t interfere until the light flashed, indicating the program run, completed.

Then he said, brushing Paul’s hair back off his forehead, very, very gently, “Paul AP.”

“Yes,” Paul said.

He said, then, the one patch, the one bit of deep set work he and Grant had put together: “Jordan has all the responsibility for you. Paul AP, and he is your Supervisor. Love Jordan, and believe in your own capability. Be honest toward him in everything. Relax, now. Remember to be happy.”

Paul let go a long breath. And the slight frown smoothed out, and became what he hadn’t seen on Paul’s face in years–a slight smile.

“Good,” he said, while Paul was still receptive. “You’re very good, Paul. You always were.”

He’d winged it, on the last. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was love for his second father, too much to keep quiet. And having been stupid, he drew back very quietly and opened the door and just let Paul sleep it off.

He walked into what had been their living room, and saw Jordan still sleeping it off. He sat down beside Grant, and said, “It went all right.”

“Suppose we ought to just go?” Grant said. “I think we ought to.”

He thought about it. Thought about Paul lying in there, completely unprotected. Shook his head. “Jordan wouldn’t hurt him, but–”

The name was enough. Jordan stirred, put up a hand between him and a specific light, then went back to sleep for a bit.

They didn’t say anything, or move, for a good while. The minder clock marked the passing minutes.

“About forty‑five minutes,” he said softly to Grant, “and he’ll be safe.”

Hell of a thing. He’d never thought in his life that he’d be sitting guard between his father and Paul. Which only proved things had gotten very, very bad.

And one thought said he should stay and face Jordan when he woke up, and tell him what he’d done; and another said it had been, quite obviously, a bad day in Jordan’s calendar, and that Jordan wouldn’t be in a receptive mood.

But he didn’t want to lie. He’d lied enough for the day. He didn’t feel easy about it–far from it. He wasn’t even sure he’d done well enough for Paul, and wanted to sit long enough for Paul not only to transit into natural sleep, but to wake up. Hell, Jordan didn’t know; Jordan wouldn’t remember. He could tell Jordan they’d agreed to it while he was blind, stupid drunk and Jordan couldn’t prove it…damn it.

“Probably time,” Grant said softly.

“I’ll look in on Paul,” Justin said. “Just he sure he’s all right.”

He got up very quietly went back to the bedroom and opened the door in silence, saw Paul had turned on his side, his favorite way to sleep, and pillowed his head on his arm, and looked comfortable enough. He shut the door then and came back to the living room as Grant got up.

“What are you doing here?” Jordan asked.

“Been here awhile,” Justin said.

“Damn.” Jordan said. “So you’re still walking around. Princess’ pets.”

“In charge of Alpha Wing, actually, so we go pretty much where we please, which is the way things are, today. Hicks isn’t in charge any more. I can’t say I’m too sorry.”

“Hicks,” Jordan said, and raked a hand through his hair and winced. “God.”

“Dad.” Justin said, and Grant laid a hand on his arm, pressure toward the door.

“How long have you been here?”

“An hour or so. Dad, I want to talk to you.”

Grant took hold of his arm, hard, and he shut up.

“Justin was worried about you,” Grant said. “Thought we’d go to di

“We can go to di

“We can cook something here,” Justin said. “Or call out.”

“No reason we can’t go out.”

“There’s a good one.” Justin said. “You’re sleeping it off, and so is Paul, for two different reasons.”

“What’s that?” Jordan asked, frowning at him.

“Paul’s taken tape,” Justin said. “Just his regular tape.”

“The hell!”

“His regular tape. Dad, which I have access to, and have had, for some time, and while you’re busy trying to kill yourself, Paul’s been the forgotten element in this transaction.” He had the datastick in his pocket. He laid it on the counter. “This has the primary file. I’ve installed it in the minder, for his convenience.”

“Damn it!” Jordan came up off the couch and hit the corner of it.

“Watch your step,” Justin said.

“Damn you, you damned co

Grant went down, knocking into Justin, and Justin caught him short of the floor–Grant wasn’t out, just shocked, and started trying to get up again while Jordan loomed over both of them.

“Get the hell back!” Justin yelled at Jordan, and hauled, helping Grant up, and Grant grabbed him.

“That’s entirely enough,” Grant snapped, and spun him back toward the door.

“It’s not enough,” Justin said, and stood his ground. “Jordan, you self‑centered bastard, you listen to me. You let Paul come out of it on his own, you keep your mouth shut until you know how he is, and if he isn’t all right, you call me and I’ll come.”

“Did she organize this?”

“She? Did sheorganize this? What do you think, that I can’t run basic tape on somebody I’ve known since the day I was born? Or maybe it’s harder than I think. Clearly you were having trouble doing it…”

“Justin,” Grant said, and got an arm around his ribs and hauled.

“No, Grant, he’s wanting a fight. For all I know he’ll go in there and start in on Paul, drunk as he is. For all I know that’s what he hasdone!”

“You watch your damned mouth! Get out of here! Get out of here and don’t let me see you again, don’t let me ever see you!”

“What, you’re going to avoid mirrors from now on? I’m you, damn you, Jordan! That’s what you had me born to be, isn’t it? The newer, better you?”