Caleb 63 - Trouble

"It made him reluctant to try and use his powers. But he was getting desperate and decided to try once more. He took the gun as backup and you saw the result.

"Poor guy," I said. "Can he be helped?"

"It will be a long road for him but, with medication and therapy, there might be some hope. However, I'm not sure they will ever release him. He's a danger to everyone around him."

"That's not fair," said Dana. "The poor man's sick. He shouldn't be imprisoned for that."

"He broke the law," said Dianna, "and could easily have caused the death of at least one police officer. The guard took shots at an officer while under his control."

"But if he wasn't in his right mind..." argued Dana.

"I don't disagree," said Dianna, "and I'm going to be working with him in the medium term. But he would have to show a very serious degree of improvement before I could persuade a judge to let him out. It's not like a Norm with mental illness. Imagine someone with mental illness, and a pair of gattling guns grafted permanently to their arms. One relapse and multiple people get hurt or killed. It's the same here. Until we find a way of suppressing powers, he's not getting out."

"I could strip his powers," I said. "Then he's no more dangerous than any other person with a similar illness."

"We may think about that," she said, "sometime in the future. We may even offer him the option of having his power stripped so that he might be considered for release when he's more in control."

Dana opened her mouth as if to say something more, but changed her mind, and went back to eating her dinner.

"I don't like it any more than you," Dianna said quietly, "but it's my responsibility to ensure that he doesn't hurt anyone else, including himself. If removing his power makes that possible, and even makes it possible for him to regain his freedom one day, then it's a price he might be willing to pay."

We finished our meal and Dianna thanked Ness for cooking, and us for hosting her. As she was about to leave Dana approached her.

"I'm sorry," Dana said. "You must think I'm a stupid kid full of ideals and values, without the experience to temper them."

"No," said Dianna kindly. "I love your passion and your zeal. I hope that you are able to hold onto that, because you'll need it. Don't let the world grind that out of you because, believe me, it will try. You must have seen the meme -- Grant me the strength to change that which I can, the fortitude to suffer that which I can't, and the wisdom to know the difference?"

Dana nodded.

"I would add..."Dianna continued, "and the passion to pursue redress when changes I want to be able to make are denied to me.

"Don't lose that passion." She gave a surprised Dana a quick hug and then left.

"Right," I said to the girls as I finished loading the dishes into the dishwasher. "Family meeting."

Mary raised an eyebrow. "Family meeting?" she asked. "Since when do we have those?"

"Since now," I said. "Everyone out on the deck please."

Josh looked at me.

"Are we included?" he asked.

I grinned at him. "You can come," I said. "But it's my girls and my sisters I need to speak to."

He and Louise, and Gracie and Dana, chose to stay inside and give us some privacy.

We settled down on the deck. I'd brought a beer out with me which I sipped while I waited for the girls to settle down.

They all looked at me expectantly.

"I had a chat with Tatarabuela Gonzales today," I said. My fiancees looked interested, while Melanie and Sarah just looked confused.

"Who?" asked Melanie.

After making sure that the gloryhole was well and truly locked, and there was nobody eavesdropping, I told the story of how, while we were on vacation in Spain, I'd healed Eleanor, and as a result had gained a psi-fairy-godmother.

"So what did she have to say?" asked Mary.

"She asked me why Jules and Ness weren't training their powers." I answered looking at the sisters. They stared at me.

"We don't have..." said Ness but Jules cut in.

"We do," she said. "You've felt it too, you told me you did. You can feel it when someone uses Power."

"But I thought..." began Ness.

"It's weak," I said. "But look at what happened to me when I tried to lift that tractor, and now look what I can lift. Tatarabuela Gonzales says that if you train, you might never get very strong, but you might get strong enough to be able to raise a shield. It won't protect you from a trained power user, but most wilds don't even know about shields so they wont know how to break one."

"What do we need to do?" asked Jules.

"I'm guessing that your power is Empathy," I said. "So, the best people to help you..." I looked at the twins, and they both smiled widely and nodded.

"We'd love to help you guys train," they said, once more, in perfect unison.

"That doesn't get any less creepy," complained Ness.

I turned my gaze on Melanie and Sarah.

"I also asked if I could give you the same protections as I have." I told them. "She said that since you are family, she would be happy to look after you two as well. And E, but I'll speak to him separately."

"What does that mean?" asked Sarah.

"It means having a part of her, inside you. She would be able to use your powers to protect you. She would manage your shields and protect you from psychic attacks. For you, Sarah, that will mean that you will have a very experienced power user watching over you, and able to protect your mind using your own Telepathy and Compulsion to ensure nobody takes control of you.

"Melanie, since you have the full suite, she can even use healing on you should you get injured. She can't use your powers external to your body though."

"And she lives in your mind?" asked Sarah. "Aren't you worried she'll take over?"

I smiled at her.

"I was," I said, "in the beginning. But I've lived with her in my mind for a while now. Most of the time I forget she's there. I've not needed her protection so far, or at least I don't think I have. If I have, I didn't notice it. However, I feel much more secure, knowing that I have her at my back. She never sleeps, so I can, knowing that if someone tries anything while I'm asleep, she'll catch it."

Sarah looked at Melanie. "What do you think?" she asked.

Melanie looked at me. "I trust Caleb," she said. "If he says it's the right thing to do, then I'm happy to do it."

"Don't let her guilt you into it," I said to Sarah. "You have time to think about this. I'm not going anywhere, nor is the Tatarabuela. You don't have to decide tonight."

"No," said Sarah. "She's right. I do trust you, and if you think it's the right thing to do, then I'll do it too."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I don't know if we can remove it, although I'll bet we can."

"I'm sure," said Sarah. "What do I need to do?"

For a moment I was nonplussed. I didn't know what to do, but then the knowledge presented itself to me. With a mental nod of thanks to the Tatarabuela Gonzales, I looked at the pair.

"Drop your shields for me," I said. I could have worked around them, but I wanted them to know that I wouldn't do that. I wanted them to know that if I needed to access their minds, for any reason, I'd ask permission. Both of them instantly dropped their shields.

I extended a tendril into Melanie's mind and felt a gentle warmth move into her as the consciousness that had been caring for me copied itself into her mind. I did the same with Sarah and once again felt that gentle warmth.

Once it was done, I saw both of their shields snap back up, far stronger and better formed than they had been before. I smiled.

"Already she is protecting you," I said. "Your shields are much better than they were before."

I saw both internalize as they examined their own shields and then grins broke out on their faces.

"That's awesome," said Sarah. "I was really struggling to improve my shield."

Melanie nodded. "Me too."

Wednesday's ethics class was not as interesting as usual. The professor wanted to speak to individual students who had decided to base their senior thesis on an ethical question. About a third of the class were doing that. The others were basing theirs on legal concepts or other subjects they were taking. When it was my turn, he asked me if I was still set on the subject that we'd previously discussed.

"I think so," I said. "It's a subject that I've been considering for quite some time."

He nodded. "I can't possibly hope to give you any practical guidance," he said, "but would be happy to read your drafts and make suggestions regarding your style and arguments."

I thanked him and returned to my seat, watching Dana move to the front to take her turn.

Wednesday night we had a visit from Trevor's father.

I was just arriving home when a large town car pulled up across our drive. I'd pulled into the garage, so he didn't block me, but since Gracie had not yet arrived home, he was blocking her entrance to the driveway. I walked across to the driver's door and tapped on the window.

A man, in his early fifties, managed to look down his nose at me, despite the fact I was standing over him since he was still seated in the car.

"Could you move your car please," I said. "You're blocking our drive and my housemate will be home soon."

He ignored me and stepped out of his car.

"You must be Caleb," he said, still looking down his nose at me.

"And you are?" I asked.

"My name is Walter Greenwood," he said as if I should have heard of him.

I shrugged. "I'm sorry," I said. "Should that mean something to me?"

"You met my son, Trevor, last week." He explained.

"Ah," I said in recognition. "Yes, I did. And again, in the early hours of Monday morning."

"Yes," he said. "That is why I've come to see you."

"Oh yes?" I said.

"I want you to withdraw your complaint against my son," he said.

"No," I said simply.

He looked startled.

"I beg your pardon?" he said.

"I said, no," I repeated. "It's not a difficult concept. No."

"Do you know who I am?" he asked.

"Well," I said patiently. "You told me your name was Walter Greenwood. Although I only have your word for that. Perhaps if you look in your wallet you'll have some I.D. Since I've never met you before, I can't be certain. If you can't remember who you are, then I'm afraid I can't help you."

I turned to walk into the house, and he grabbed my arm. That never goes well.

The next thing he knew was that he was on his ass in the middle of the road, and I was walking toward my house.

"Move your car," I said to him over my shoulder as he clambered to his feet. I hadn't gone more than a couple of paces before I felt him charging at me. I sidestepped allowing him to slide past me, while leaving my foot trailing, tripping him. He crashed into the side of his own car leaving a sizeable dent in the door and bloodying his nose.

He staggered to his feet and reached into his jacket. For a moment I seriously thought he was going to pull a gun, but instead he pulled out a phone. He called a number and complained that he'd been attacked. I didn't think he'd called the police, but certainly someone on the other end was giving advice. His lawyer, I guessed.

Ending the call, he started to dial again. Satisfied that he wasn't going to try attacking me again, I walked back into the house and shut the door.

Less than five minutes later there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find two police officers standing on my porch. I sighed.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"Turn around and put your hands behind your back," said one officer. "You're under arrest for assault."

I looked at him levelly.

"Who did I assault?" I asked.

"We've had a complaint that you assaulted a man outside your house." Said the other officer. "So turn around and..."

"Officer," the voice came from behind the officers. I winced as I heard it. Pricktard. This wasn't going to help me in any way.

"Officer, I saw the whole thing," he said. "I even recorded the latter part of the altercation."

My eyes widened in surprise.

"Who are you?" asked the officer.

"I'm Thomas Pritchard," he said. "I live across the road. I'm also the lead of the Neighbourhood Watch."

That was news to me, I didn't even know we had one of those.

"Mr. Stott did not assault that other man," he continued. "In fact, it was quite the reverse. I have it all on video if you care to examine it."

One of the officers walked over to Pritchard, who showed him his phone, giving a commentary as he showed the footage he'd taken.

"As you can see," he said "He attempts to attack Mr. Stott from behind, Mr. Stott moves out of his way, and he runs into his own car, injuring himself. Mr. Stott did not assault him."

The officer in front of me didn't look happy. I caught the thought that he was going to miss out on a fat paycheck if he didn't take me in.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my FBI ID.

"Do I need to call my bureau chief and ask him to come down to sort this out?" I asked.

"We'll need a statement from you both," said the other officer, seeing how the wind was blowing.

"Not a problem," I said.

"Gary," said the other officer, "Why don't you take Mr. Pritchard's statement. I'll talk to Mr. Stott."

Gary, huffed and then moved off to speak to Pritchard. His partner came over to speak to me.

"Don't let him drag you down," I said to the officer in front of me. "He's dirty, and if you don't distance yourself from him, you'll go down with him."

"He's my TO." he said. "I can't..."

I heard from his mind that he was in a terrible place. He'd seen his TO do some things that he didn't agree with. Nothing to egregious, but enough to show that he was not beyond taking some consideration for looking the other way from time to time.

The problem was that, even as a new recruit, he knew that if he turned his partner in, his career would be over. Nobody would want to work with him ever again. He'd be labelled a rat and nobody would trust him. Partners had each other's backs, no matter what. Even if he moved to another department, it would follow him. Someone would make sure it did.

I felt sorry for him, but again decided that this was not my fight, not my problem. I wasn't going to roll over and let them arrest me for something I didn't do, but now that was dealt with, largely thanks to the last person in the world I'd have expected to have my back, the problem was someone else's.

I gave him my statement and they left. Greenwood had already left by the time the police had arrived, presumably to go get medical attention. I wondered how he would react when he found out that I'd not been arrested after all.

I should have known that we hadn't heard the last of this, but I naively thought that having bloodied him and survived the aftermath, Walter Greenwood would limp off to lick his wounds. I underestimated his reaction. He was rich and used to getting his own way. I'd been instrumental, as far as he was concerned, in his son's girlfriend dumping him, in him totalling his car, getting arrested for DUI, and then subsequently getting arrested for vandalism.

All I had to do was do as I was told and things would have been fine, but no, I refused to kowtow to him, and bested both him, and his attempts to have me arrested. He was not happy.

I found out how not happy he was, when, just after ten that night, the front door of the house was kicked in, and three men with baseball bats entered.