V: The Series Fan Fiction
 
"Out Of The War Zone"
 
"Overture:  Second Time Around"
by VJ Wurth
Part Three
 
 
Fourteen hours later, Alex woke, stretched, yawned and grunted as she looked at her watch.  She vaulted out of bed, automatically calling for her dogs, then shook her head, remembering where she was.

By the time she had showered, dressed and grabbed something to eat, they still were not to be found.  She did a tour of the Vancouver health club, and found nothing at all to hold her interest.  Not even any animals around here, she thought disgustedly.  Not even MY animals around here.  In an increasingly disgruntled mood, her tour eventually brought her to the sickbay.  She was surprised to find Tyler not only awake, but absently patting Solomon with Homer very contentedly asleep by the bed.

"So that's where you are!"  Both gave her sheepish looks, but didn't move.  She sighed.  "What is it about sick people that attracts you two?  You are BAD BOYS!"

The two shepherds assumed their most guilty, sorrowful and completely repentant expressions, which they knew would soften even Alex's hardened heart.  Solomon, when he realized he'd REALLY done something wrong, would take to sliding across the floor on his stomach, grovelling shamelessly at his mistresses feet.  Alex usually gave in then, because she thought it a most undignified position for a grown German Shepherd.

The dogs knew she didn't really mean it this time, and merely bounded across to her as she knelt down.

"Oh, okay, okay..."  Alex let herself be buried in a free-for-all of fur, feet and doggy tongues, wrestling with them until she felt a chuckle rising in her throat.  Struggling to her feet she found Tyler regarding her with an amused expression.

"Good morning."

"Morning."  She plonked herself down on the end of the bed, grinning as his shoulder jarred and he winced.  "Ready to take on the world yet?"

"That at least makes a change from 'lie down, you'll catch cold'."

"Julie coddling you, huh?"

He favoured her with a wry smile.  "You could say that."

There was an awkward pause between them until Alex began hesitantly,

"Listen, Ham... I'm... I'm sorry about your jacket.  I really tried to patch it up, but the dogs did a pretty good job on it.  And I'm no better at sewing than I am at cooking."  She grimaced.  "I think it looks worse now than it did before I washed it..."

"You WASHED a leather jacket?"

"To get the blood stains out.  It ... shrunk ... a little bit."  She held up thumb and forefinger a couple of centimetres apart to indicate how much she thought a little bit was, then rushed on before Tyler could respond.  "I tested the blood before I washed it, though.  Did you know you're AB negative?  That's a universal receiver -- guess that'd come in pretty handy in the Resistance business, huh?"  He started to speak, but Alex plowed on.  "Look, I know it probably had enormous sentimental value or something, but I'll make it up to you.  How much are leather jackets today anyway?  Of course, if I have to kill something to make one for you I'll be a little more than upset..."

Tyler held up his good arm to stop her flow of words.

"It's okay.  I didn't really expect it could be saved."

"You didn't?"

"No."  He pushed himself up in the cot, and reached for his clothes that hung over a nearby chair.  "Anyway, I'm getting used to this one."  He started pulling on the navy sweater that Alex had given him to wear the first night at her place.  She watched approvingly, making no attempt to stop him from getting up.

"It looks good on you."  She rubbed tiredly at her eyes, which turned into a stretch and a yawn.  "What's so great about black leather, anyway?  You can't wash the bloody stuff..."

Harm arched an eyebrow at her, attempting gingerly to pull the sweater down over his head.  "Are you always this opinionated?"

"Yeah.  But I only babble when I'm tired.  Sorry."

"Forget it."

"Okay."  She leaned back across the bed, resting on her elbows.  "So while you're in this wonderfully forgive & forget mood, you mind telling me something?"

"Depends."

She pulled a face at him. "Why are you fighting with the Resistance?"

"Lots of reasons."  Alex was about to snort at this electrifying breakthrough, when Tyler went on quietly.  "I worked as a mercenary after Vietnam -- kept going for 15 years.  I'd probably still be in the business if it wasn't for this war."

"Mercenary, huh?"

"Yup."

Alex shook her head.  "I never imagined any mercenary to be like you."

Tyler looked a bit miffed, as he'd always thought he made a pretty good mercenary.

"Oh you know," she explained, seeing his expression, "the do-or-die type.  The really mean and nasty guy who's totally cold-blooded and has no feelings.  I've watched the movies, you know."

"And I'm not like that?"  Tyler had been thinking that she'd just summed up his image in one sentence.

Alex looked surprised.  "Of course not.  You like my dogs, don't you?  Mercenaries don't like animals, and animals always give the guy away as he's creeping around some installation trying to blow it up, or something."

"You've been watching too many movies."

"Yeah, it was a good one, too.  The mercenary was beaten up and garrotted by the hero in the end...  Oh sorry...  But you know, if all mercenaries are like you, you ought to get a guild or union together, because you're being grossly misrepresented."

"How do you know," Tyler asked, having finally got the sweater on, "that I'm NOT like that?"

"I don't know.  Just a feeling.  She grinned suddenly.  "I like you, I guess."

"That's an explanation?"

"Best I can do."

It was no good being brusque with her.  The realization was dawning on Ham that he liked Alex too.  It was a sudden, rather surprising revelation to Tyler, who had not thought consciously about his feelings towards the vet before.  Now that he did, he was startled by the strength of his reaction.  His smile was a genuine one.

"Well, if it means anything, I like you too."

Alex nodded, returning the smile.  In the agreeable silence that followed, she reached out to touch the scar near his left eye.

"How did you get this?" she asked.

"In Vietnam."  Tyler hesitated a beat, then went on with a quirk of the eyebrow, "Chris hit me over the head with a chair..."

"You're kidding!"

"No.  We were... just getting to know each other."

"Sounds like a great basis for a friendship.  Tell me about it sometime."

Tyler suddenly realized that Alex's hand had never left his face, and was now tracing a slow path down his cheek to his lips.  he kissed the fingers, not feeling at all his level-headed self.

For her part, Alex was not sure what had possessed her to reach out to Tyler like that; she was feeling quite light-headed and totally irresponsible, and the unfamiliar sensation shocked one part of her.  The other part was leaning forward to meet Tyler's lips, aware that his arms had encircled her and drawn her close.

When they parted, it was not by much.  Somehow, Alex had moved closer to Ham so that when they ended the kiss, they were still in each other's arms.  Alex was enjoying the look of bewilderment mixed with tenderness on Ham's face.  She made a resolve to find out just how long it had been since this man had held a woman in his arms.  She was sure the resulting story would be interesting, just as everything about Ham Tyler was interesting.  She gave him a reassuring smile, and let herself be drawn into his chest.  She held him tight, until a small gasp made her loosen her grip.

"Sorry," she apologized, leaning back, but found herself still firmly encircled by strong arms.  She relaxed again.

Suddenly, both the dogs started growling deep in their throats.  Alex leaned down to 'shush' them when the door was burst open and Chris Faber rushed in.  Alex felt every muscle in Ham's body tense and she instinctively stood up.

Chris took in the situation in a glance and moved toward Ham.

"Visitors are attacking," he said tersely, depositing his partner's favourite gun in his lap along with several rounds of ammunition.

"Up here?" Alex demanded.

"Don't understand it myself," Faber agreed as he shot home the bolt on his own rifle.  "Either they're suicidal, or they've got one bad interest in you, pretty lady."

Ham was up and dressed and loading his own gun.

"They mustn't find her," he said, throwing a glance to Chris, who nodded.

"Are you okay to fight?"

"Never better."

What about me?"  Alex wanted to know.  "Give me a gun, I can fight."  Tyler and Chris exchanged glances, and she put hands to hips.  "I'm not going to just stand here -- give me a gun!"  She wrenched a spare out of Chris's belt.  "I think Ham'll tell you I know how to use it."

Ham nodded and led the way out of the sick room.

In the corridor, smoke was starting to gather, and people were pouring out of rooms.  Somewhere towards the front of the building they could hear gunfire returned with Visitor laser fire.  Ham grabbed one fleeing rebel by the arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Where are the Visitors attacking?"

"They stormed the entrance, and the building's been surrounded.  Lemme go, I've got to get out!"

In disgust, Ham released the frightened man.  He looked to Chris.  The bigger man shook his head.

"The place is a death trap.  No way out once surrounded."

"Damn.  Explosives?"

"Now what would I be doing with the stuff up here?  You're lucky I had the hardware."

Ham nodded.  "We'll just have to wait out and hope for reinforcements.  Where's the best place to hold off an attack?"

"Two places -- the gym locker rooms and the sauna.  Both reinforced, should stand the treatment."

"OK.  I'll cover point.  You take Alex and hold the flank."  Chris nodded, his large arm snaking out to take a firm hold of Alex.

"No, I want to go with Ham.  Ham!"  Chris dragged her back up the corridor.  Tyler paused only for a second to give her a small smile.

"You let me go!" Alex demanded.   Chris ignored her.  Alex went to call for her dogs and suddenly realized they were not at her side.  She had no chance to resist further as she was dragged into the small sauna room.  "Damn you!" she yelled.  The door slammed closed and Chris Faber moved quickly to the other exit.  It showed a clear view of the corridor, and so far no Visitors were in sight.

"I think we're okay for now," he said at last.  "Just...  Hey!"

But the vet was too quick for him.  Leaping to the door she was gone before Faber could so much as protest.  He cursed fluently, weighing for a split second the pros and cons of staying put or going after the woman.  With a snarl, he wrenched open the door.
 
 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *
 
 
Alex fought her way against the flow of people in the corridor, yelling alternately for her dogs and Ham Tyler.  She didn't see the Visitor take aim, or the bolt that struck her squarely in the chest.  She fell heavily, and was left alone in the corridor after all the resistance had passed.  A Visitor lieutenant knelt down beside her and pulled out a picture.  Rolling Alex onto her back, he compared the two faces.  He nodded and yelled through the face mask for a stretcher.
 
 
*  *  *  *  *  *  *
 
 
Ham Tyler dumped his well-worn pack into a corner of his old room and surveyed the familiar surroundings.  It seemed like years he'd been gone, not weeks.  The single bunk still sat in the far corner, the only other piece of furniture being a metal chest of drawers, old and battered at that.  Ham made for the bed and sat down heavily.  He should really go and rejoin the rest of the group, but the need to be alone was greater.  Mike and Julie had been embarrassed on his behalf for the WELCOME BACK party that had been arranged and thrust on him the moment he stepped in the door, but he'd easily crushed any sentiment they thought he may have by brusquely acknowledging everyone, accepting a glass of wine, draining it and retiring to his room with no excuses.   There was some small satisfaction in appearing totally impassive to the group.

The knock on the door was quiet.

"Come," Tyler said immediately, a totally blank expression dropping over his features.  Chris Faber poked his head around the door.

"Wanna be alone?"

"Yeah," Ham nodded, "but only from that lot."

Faber stepped through the door and looked around the room.  "They took your chair," he grunted.  "The room wasn't exactly overcrowded before you left."

"I won't be staying long enough to mind."

"Where you figure on goin'?"

A corner of Tyler's mouth lifted.  "A rescue mission of sorts."

Chris did not look surprised.  "Thought you might.  Mind if I tag along?"

"I could use the help.  Thanks."

"I kinda feel responsible, I guess."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I know that -- she's a feisty one.  I tried to stop her..."  Ham lifted his eyebrows and nodded.  It fitted with his past experience.  "But I'd still like to go.  You may have trouble getting the others to see it your way, though."

"I don't need them."

Chris looked doubtful.  He rubbed his beard trying to word his next sentence tactfully.

"And before you say it, I have a plan."

"It'll have to be a doozy."

"It's not world class, but it'll have to do.  I think it'll work."

"You're the boss.  When do we go?"

"The morning.  4 am."

"I'd better hit the sack then."

"Okay.  Meet me outside, and don't make noise."

Faber nodded.  When he had gone, Tyler lay back on the bunk.  The dreams he'd been having before the Canadian incident had now returned, double force, so he did not plan on getting any sleep.  Nevertheless, a few restless hours into the night, a half-awake soldier's doze overtook him and he snored quietly.
 
 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *
 
 
Diana reached for the control board and swung a dial up a notch.  She watched with pleasure as the woman in the conversion chamber gasped and went wide-eyed in the grip of an enforced nightmare.  Diana smiled.  It was definitely the simple things in life she enjoyed the most.  She glanced down at the clipboard on the console:  from the initial scan, the subject seemed unremarkable.  It was going to be an easy conversion.  Diana looked up as Charles, the Leader's special envoy, entered the antechamber.

"Charles!  I was just about to start without you."

The Visitor smiled a smooth but dangerous smile.  "I wouldn't miss this, Diana."

Diana picked up the chart.  "She does not seem to pose much of a challenge for you.  I'm sure I could save you the trouble."

"You can indulge your sadistic tendencies later, Diana.  Dr. Alex Bailey is too important for any childish pranks.

Charles enjoyed watching his subordinate turn an interesting shade of red.  It was not quite a human flush, but the best synthetic skin could reproduce.  He took the clipfile from her hands and began flipping through the pages.  "I see you have already obtained the formula for this new toxin."

"It was not difficult," Diana said coldly.  "The antidote is being found and manufactured by our scientists at this moment."

"Excellent."

"You intend to replant her in the Resistance as you did with Ham Tyler?"

Charles ignored the jab and favoured Diana with another smile, which the alien scientist knew meant 'danger'.

"We shall have to... how do the humans say it? ... 'play it on the ear'."

"I think you mean 'by ear'," Diana retorted, just barely managing to conceal her contempt.

"Ah.  Well, you're the scientist."  Charles shifted his attention to the console and frowned.  "You've got her at Level 3 in the dream sequence."

Diana shrugged.  "A harmless piece of disorientation."

Charles did not have a naturally sadistic disposition and had difficulty understanding it in other people.  He frowned and reduced the intensity of the dream.

Inside the conversion chamber, Alex slumped forward in her seat, drawing in great gulps of air, half-sobbing.

"I think you will find this interesting."  Diana picked up the clipboard and turned to the last few pages.  "We came across this in the last stages of probing.  I don't think she's really aware of it herself.  If you really do want to replant her in the Resistance, this may be the key."

Charles skimmed the data and looked surprised despite himself.  "In love with Ham Tyler?  How extraordinary!"

Diana smiled, gazing in at the quiescent figure.  "It does seem a rather... unlikely match."

Charles stared speculatively at his subject.  "I think we can make good use of this.  Very good use indeed.  Prepare for another scan, please, Diana."
 
 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *
 
 
As the night lengthened into morning, two unlikely looking Visitor security guards made their way out of the landing bay of the Los Angeles mothership.

"You call this a PLAN?" Chris Faber muttered under his breath.  "I've seen better suicide missions."

"It's got us this far, hasn't it?"  The black visors covered both their faces and most of their conversation.  Ham casually saluted a lieutenant who passed them.

"You're the one who wanted to take acting lessons.  Christ, Ham, I never even went to the theatre!"

"You missed some great stuff.  Just follow my lead, we'll be okay.  Remember 'Nam -- the more simple the plan, the more likely it is to succeed."

"Yeah, I think I read that on a Weeties packet somewhere."  Chris tugged uncomfortably at his uniform.  "I thought these things were supposed to stretch to fit you."

"I don't think the lizards had you in mind when they designed them, Chris.  C'mon, the conversion chamber is only a few blocks away."

"How do you know they'll convert her?"

"Call it a deep understanding of the way these lizards work."

"Oh yeah, I forgot, sorry."  Faber was remembering his friend's condition after they rescued him from the conversion process.  "They'll have the formula then."

"Yes."

In silence, the two marched down he corridors of the huge ship, unquestioned by anyone who passed.  As they approached the conversion chamber, Ham stepped forward and addressed the two guards.

"We're your relief."

"But we're not due off until 0900.  What's going on?"

Ham shrugged, and managed to look totally bored.  "Don't ask me.  We were told to relieve you at 0500, and that's what we're doing.  Orders.  Report it to the watch commander if you like."

The Visitor shrugged and nodded to his partner.  When they had gone, Chris shook his head in amazement.

"I'm impressed," he whispered.  Ham was craning his head to look inside the room.  "Is she there?"

"Yes."

Chris didn't like the flatness in his voice.  "We can't bust in there.  We wouldn't stand a chance."

"We don't have much time.  Wait, they're finishing up."

Inside the chamber, Charles reclined in his chair and steepled his fingers. It was a good start, though he was reluctant to push this conversion along too quickly.  Alex Bailey had proven to have an unusually low pain threshold, and her emotional attachment to her animal patients was powerful.  Those two factors combined meant that, although she could be easily manipulated, she could be pushed into insanity before any useful trigger sequences were programmed.  It called for skill and timing, and Charles had those qualities in ample reserve.  He knew when to press it, and when to back off.

"No, Diana," he said, stopping her from initiating another sequence.  "That will be enough for this session."

"You must be joking.  Another sequence and she'll be ours."

"Another sequence and she'll be no use to us at all.  You of all people should know how delicate a business conversion is, Diana."  Charles smiled.  "A few hours rest and we can start again.  The images and post-hypnotic suggestions will take effect and in the next session, we will turn her completely."

"Whatever you say, Charles."

Charles yawned and thought longingly of his cabin.  "Guards!"  Ham and Chris entered smartly.  "Take the prisoner to the holding cells."

Ham saluted and went to unclip the restraints.  Just in time, he stopped himself lifting Alex bodily in his arms and forced himself to take one arm, while indicating for Chris to take the other.  Roughly, they hustled her out of the chamber.
 
 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *
 
 
"You did WHAT?"  Mike Donovan bellowed.  He was turning a nasty shade of purple, and the other resistance fighters grouped behind him weren't much better.

"I don't have to justify my actions to you," Tyler retorted, standing his ground.

"You do when your actions endanger the rest of us.  We're a TEAM here."

The shorter man held Donovan's eye for a few seconds, then dropped his gaze.  He tossed the Visitor helmet into a nearby chair.

"I did what I had to do, Donovan.  It's no business of yours.  Or any of you."

"You could have asked us for help."

"I didn't need it."

Chris Faber came through at that moment and signalled for his partner to join him in the corridor.  Ham left the group without a word.

"Is she okay?"

"I don't know, she's still unconscious."

"Then why'd you call me?"

"I didn't want you to get lynched, my friend."

Tyler nodded wryly and rubbed his forehead.  "It'll take Donovan a while to cool off from this one.  I think I'll lie low for a few days."

Faber watched with mixed emotions as his friend disappeared into his room where Alex was sleeping.  Even after this long, Ham Tyler was still full of surprises.  There had been several times in their relationship when Chris had thought there was nothing more to discover about each other, and each time Ham had proved him wrong.  And eighteen years was a long time to get to know somebody.

Chris Faber re-joined the irate resistance fighters, intent on calming them down.  As he entered the room, Julie Parrish came forward with a cup of coffee.

"You don't want to throw it at me?"

Julie smiled and shook her head.  "I understand what you and Tyler did.  I don't happen to agree with it, but I do understand it.  I seem to remember a time when Mike was keen to get me back from the Visitors."

"Yeah, but he didn't do it solo."

"I understand Mike had to do a little persuading of his own."

Chris grinned and took a gulp of the coffee.  It was still only 6am.  The others had dispersed, leaving only Julie, Donovan and Willie in the radio room.  Willie, as ever, was hunched over the set, listening for anything interesting on the Visitor wavebands.  35 minutes before he had picked up the news of Alex's escape and had reported it to the group.  Now that Ham and Chris had returned safely with the vet and the excitement was over most of them had gone back to bed or were preparing for the day in front of them.

"Persuading?"  Donovan grinned, joining them.  "I couldn't hold them back!"  He dropped a familiar arm around Julie's shoulders, who squeezed Donovan's hand.

"What is this?" Faber demanded.  "A few minutes ago you were ready to boil us in the hottest oil available."

"Would it do any good with Tyler?" Julie observed.

"No, but it makes everyone else feel better."

"Exactly.  What we don't need at the moment is a division in the ranks."  Julie looked up meaningfully at Donovan, who shrugged sheepishly.  "What's done is done.  But if Tyler wants to stick around here he's going to have to conform to the rules."

"You know one-man rescue missions aren't his style, Julie," Chris protested.

"I know that.  That's what threw me.  She really got to him, didn't she?"

"He's got all the symptoms."

"How can you tell?" Donovan muttered disgustedly.

"Well, she did save his life, I suppose," Julie mused.

"I'd just like to know what SHE sees in HIM," Donovan grinned.

Chris smiled, ignoring the bait, and drained his coffee.

"Catch you people later," he said.

"What do you make of that?" Julie asked Donovan when he'd gone.  Donovan shrugged.  "Do you think we've underestimated Tyler?"  They thought about it for a while, looked doubtfully at each other, then in unison, "Nahhh."
 
 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *
 
 
The man in question, appropriating a chair from the common room, had entered his room 12 hours ago, settled himself by the bed and dug in grimly for whatever wait was necessary.  He'd planned to stay awake, but hardly noticed when his head dropped slowly onto his chest.  Gently, he began to snore.

Alex Bailey was in her own kind of personal nightmare.  She couldn't escape it and she couldn't confront it:  it was just there.  It kept going around and around in one continuous circle, like a film caught in a loop.  Images of death and destruction -- she kept seeing Homer and Solomon, dead or dying, and there was Ham, always Ham... and a persistent, nagging voice.

The nightmare faded gradually, and when Alex finally woke, night was falling, the room being bathed in a soft, pinkish glow.  She stretched and yawned, feeling tired but rested at the same time.  She frowned, examining the feeling, then put it aside.

"How are you, Alex?" Tyler's deep voice said quietly beside her.

"Ham!"  Alex sat up in the bed, a huge grin on her face as her eyes fell on the man sitting in the chair.  Then memory of what had gone before gradually returned and her face fell.  She stared around her.  "No, I'm not here.  This isn't real, it's another illusion."

Tyler moved to sit facing her on the bed.  His eyes bored into hers.  "No.  You're in the resistance headquarters in Los Angeles."

She looked uncertain.

"They tried to convert you -- confuse you, fill your head with images you didn't want.  But that's over now," he emphasized.  "All this is real.  Your being here is real.  I'm real."

Very slowly, Alex reached out and poked him in the arm.  "Yup," she said.  "So you are."  She relaxed a little.  "How long have you been sitting there?"

Tyler shrugged, but a ghost of a smile played around his lips.  "I fell asleep.  More than 12 hours, anyhow.  I thought you'd never wake up."

"So did I," Alex said, turning serious.  "I had some horrible dreams."

"That'll happen for a while.  They go away eventually."  When she didn't look comforted, Ham reached out to turn her face towards him.  Alex flinched, and drew away.  He let his hand drop.  "What is it?  What did they do?"

"I don't ... know.  It's confusing.  I can't remember, Ham.  It just feels... strange, uncomfortable."  She looked at him pleadingly, and for once, Tyler understood all too well.  He nodded and got to his feet.

"Okay.  Give it time.  I'll be... around if you need me."

When Tyler had left the room she threw herself back into the bed with a cry of frustration.
 
 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *
 
 
Two days later, Alex wandered into the radio room, where Willie was on duty.  Most of the resistance people she'd met had been avoiding her, not openly but quite efficiently.  She guessed she was either on probation or suspected of being converted.  She didn't feel converted -- just confused and unstable -- but neither impressed her terribly much, and she resolved to get out of the place as soon as possible.  That left the problem of leaving Ham, which was the only reason she was procrastinating at all.  She'd still now worked out her feeling towards him, and decided not to leave until she did.  And even Ham had been more withdrawn than usual.

The only person who had made her feel at all welcome was Willie, who now waved to her.  She smiled back.

"Hi, Willie."

"Hello, Alex.  How are you?"

"I'm feeling much better, thanks.  Anything interesting on the airwaves?"

Alex went to pour herself a coffee from the dispenser that sat permanently brewing in one corner of the room.

"No, the usual old static.  But there are still references to your escape now and then.  Diana is furious, I think, and is taking it out on one or two people."

Alex grinned.  "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Ah, no thank you.  Coffee makes me sleepy.  The last time I drank some I hibernated for three weeks."

"Oh.  Okay.  I didn't know reptiles hibernated."

"Neither did I," Willie agreed ruefully.  "Perhaps it is just my mannerism."

"Your...?"

"Yes, my functioning."  Willie motioned to his body.  "It is different."

The light dawned.  "Oh, you mean your metabolism."

"Yes!  yes, my metabolism.  I had some very strange experiences with Earth food in my first few weeks here."

"I can imagine," Alex agreed.  "So what CAN you eat?"

"I am a vegetarian.  Most vegetables are good."

"I'm a sort-of vegetarian myself.  I still eat meat, but being a vet kinda puts me off most times."

"What's a ... 'vet'?"

"A doctor -- except for animals instead of humans."

She watched the alien digest this information.

"And this toxin you invented...?"

"Well, it was an accident, really.  It started when Franco -- that's a semi-tame goat who kept wandering about my place -- ate all the labels I use on the pharmaceutical bottles.  I kept forgetting to re-order them, and eventually I guess I got one or two mixed up.  I was making up what I thought was the usual sedative in my lab and I only found out that it wasn't when I went to sedate a particularly bad-tempered iguana.  The poor thing was dead in 15 seconds.  Little Jimmy Sanderson down the road didn't forgive me for months.  Not until I found him a new lizard, anyway.  Sorry, Willie," she added, seeing the expression on his face.

"Is there an anecdote?"

Alex laughed.  "That's antidote, Willie!"

"Oh."  Willie looked embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh.  How is it you can't speak our language?"

"I can; I speak fluent Arabic.  But there was a mix-up and I was sent to the United States.  I am still learning English, as you can see..."

"Well, you're doing pretty good, in that case.  I wouldn't mind being able to speak 3 languages.  Is your language hard?"

"Compared to English, it is a snap,"  Willie assured her.  "Believe me!"

"I believe you."  She got up to pour another cup of coffee.  "But if you want to know if there's an antidote to this toxin, I don't think there is, at least, not one that I've found.  It's a bit like curarae.  Once it's in the bloodstream it's impossible to counteract and it's fast.  Even if the Visitors got the formula out of me, I doubt they'd be able to manufacture any cure."

"Does it harm humans?"

"No, it's only a sedative to us.  Very powerful, though."  Willie nodded, looking vaguely unhappy, and for the first time Alex felt a pang of guilt.  "It's okay, Willie.  Your science is a lot more advanced than ours.  They've probably already found an... an anecdote."  She smiled reassuringly at the alien, who smiled back when he saw she was not mocking him.

Mike Donovan entered at that point and greeted them both.

"Did the raid go well, Mike?" Willie asked eagerly.

"Well enough.  We got two crates of M16's, ammo for it, and a coupla Visitor guns from lizards that won't be needing them anymore."  Mike grinned, waving one example around.  He headed for the coffee.  As he poured a cup and headed out the other door, he called back, "Oh, Alex, Ham's outside stowing the gear.  He said he'd be in soon."

Alex nodded and Donovan, grinning, disappeared around the corner.  Willie noticed her moody look.

"What is the matter, Alex?"

"Hm?  Oh, nothing, I was just thinking about my dogs..."

"They were killed in the Canadian raid, weren't they?"

"Yes."

"What is it like to have a ... a pet?"

"You've never owned one?"

"No, it is more common among my people to eat them, I'm afraid.  But I am not like the others.  Mr. Ham wanted to make boots out of me at first.  I do not know what would have happened if I had eaten mice as well as being a... a lizard."

Alex laughed outright.  "He wouldn't have hurt you for no reason."

"I know that NOW," Willie agreed.  "Back then I was a little nervous."

"Y'see, that's when it comes in handy to have a dog -- or any pet, most animals are pretty good judges of character.  Sort of like having a second opinion on people you meet."  Willie was finding the concept of a pet intriguing.  Alex guessed it would not be long before he showed up with one of some sort, and wondered what kind of trouble she'd get into from the others when they found out who'd put the idea into his head.

"And your dogs... they liked Mr. Ham?"

"Liked him?  They adored him!  I couldn't keep them away from him."

Willie thought about this.  "You like Mr. Ham, don't you?"

Alex smiled and lowered her gaze.

"It's a bit complicated, Willie..."

"I know he likes you," the alien continued, unaware he was heading on shaky ground.  "He disobeyed every rule of this group to rescue you.  Mike and Julie were very upset with him."

"I didn't know that."

"It is true.  He even -- "

"Willie, please, just forget it, okay?"

"I am sorry, Alex, did I say something..."

Willie looked after the vet as she hurried out of the radio room.  He shook his head.  English was bad enough, but humans?  He might never understand them.
 

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