Maiocxx

Cody and Lucas

A Personal Slaveboy Story

Chapter Eleven

In his 'maiden speech' he thanked them for their welcome, admitted he had a great deal to learn from them and promised to always respect their opinions. It was quite different from the rough and tumble of the House of Commons.

He found, to his surprise, that he had more political allies than he had thought. Most of them had remained silent over the years, so, perhaps, he could, in time, become their voice.

The new Parliament would convene in March. And early one February morning, while Ruth was still asleep, he sat in the living room, coffee in hand, reading the morning papers. Something in one of the articles sent his mind back to a time he had not thought about for years:

From the time Cody was a very young boy, the family had often discussed the slavery practices in British North America. Even when he was very young, Ruth and John did not try to shield Cody from the realities of the practice. Once he came to the family, they included Lucas in these discussions, even though he was a slave who had personally benefited from it. Although they were not interested in abolishing slavery altogether, they had strong opinions about it.

John contended that the greatest argument against slavery had nothing to do with morality, but pragmatism. Every slave-holding society in history had suffered, long term, from a slow but sure sapping of it's vitality as slaves took over many of the tasks of daily living that gave the society its rational for existing. That was not something the average British subject understood or much cared about, but students of history surely did.

As the slave population grew in numbers and importance, there came inevitably a 'tipping point'. The desire for freedom was universal and slaves were no exception. Bloody slave revolts occurred and continued until the slaves were successful, no mater how soundly the ruling classes tried to suppress them. What replaced the former slave-holding regime was usually not an improvement.

Ruth's argument centered on the enormous waste of human talent inherent in denying a sizeable segment of the population the opportunity to grow and contribute their talents… particularly when the pool of slaves was drawn from the very community they were part of. Except for lawbreakers, the vast majority of slaves were young children, drawn from families whose parents simply had the misfortune of an early death or could no longer support their children.

In the fall of 2008, the Tory Government introduced a wide-ranging Slave Expansion Act. They had hoped to keep details secret until they had all the propaganda in place, but their more extreme members simply could not resist the impulse to 'crow'.

The proposals embodied in the Slave Expansion Act lit a firestorm. The most immediate result was to drive the Abolitionist Party and the Liberal Loyal Opposition into uneasy but effective alliance.

"I suppose we should have known the status quo wouldn't continue forever", lamented John. "But, these proposals are so arrogantly transparent…"

Ever curious, Lucas asked, "What's in them, Sir?" Fearfully, "Do they affect me?"

"No, Lucas," answered John. "We will never agree to embrace the disasters they open up. You are part of this family forever and nothing will ever change that."

"What is in them, Dad," pressed Cody.

"Their principal thrust is to make more slaves available for purchase. These people not only fail to understand history, they are ignorant of economics as well.

"While slavery may have been economically justifiable in a sparsely populated agrarian culture like ours was a hundred years ago, modern technology has largely eliminated much of the need for unskilled labor in most endeavors. In fact, most slaves – young children mind you – are employed in one of three ways: household or personal servants – that's what Lucas and Dakota are, even though we don't tend to think of them that way – in some segments of agriculture… or, I'm sorry to say, in brothels."

This last turned Cody and Lucas white.

"The supporters of this farce, claim increasing the supply will put money in everyone's pockets, added Ruth. "What will these slaves do, if there is little need for them? Yes, you can train them to be semi-skilled or skilled workers, and then they will compete with our free subjects."

"Not only that," added John, " as we become dependent upon them for vital functions, they begin to have bargaining power. Consider what would happen if slaves running vital functions such as transportation and communications suddenly decided to go on strike. Government forces could beat them bloody, but that wouldn't get the functions restored."

"The principal source for all these new slaves is to be China. They certainly have the capacity to supply almost unlimited numbers. But, I'm sure the Defense Minister is howling. Surely he must see that danger this poses."

"Sir, How can little kids hurt us, even if we bring in a million of them?" asked Lucas.

"In ten or fifteen years they won't be little kids anymore."

"You think that….?"

"Absolutely. We could find ourselves a Chinese colony, without a shot having been fired. I know Ryan Brooks has been involved in the negotiations with the Chinese. I can't believe he doesn't see this."

Ruth continued, "The PM wants to open up private slave sales again. The selling and buying of slaves will potentially pump millions of pounds into our economy in the first year, he says."

"And, who do you think will benefit from these increased 'millions'? The slave dealers, of course. And who will they be? Hand picked supporters of the Government. The public sees this as the naked grasp for riches it is. We're not all stupid!"

"And a few other things," added John. " One is to allow the private sale of class two slaves for profit without court approval and the sale for profit of class three as well. That would result in a highly competitive market where licensed dealers could have open warfare among themselves."

"I remember my grandfather describing some of the awful practices which private slave dealers engaged in before the government took over in 1961," Ruth added. "There were pitched gun battles between dealers trying to eliminate competitors. Poor parents were routinely murdered and their children enslaved. Children were kidnapped. And, worst of all, child slaves were sometimes simply abandoned by their dealers to die of starvation or exposure. There was corruption and bribery on a monumental scale."

"Another provision in this monstrous act is to increase the conversion of young slaves from free children by making it easier for the law to punish anti-social behavior. For example: if a group of teens is playing loud music on the street or someone is caught spraying graffiti on a wall, the police can issue a Writ of Anti-Social Behavior. The offender was caught in the act so there is no trial; they are simply guilty. The civil libertarians are having apoplexy, I'm sure. Due process has been a cornerstone of English Law since Runnymede

"If they get a second writ within six months, they are arrested and immediately taken before a judge for sentencing. Some of them will become class two slaves at best, the rest class three. Great ways to get back at annoying neighbors or anyone else you don't like. Punish them by having their children enslaved."

"Do you think someone would do that to Master?" asked a suddenly terror-stricken slave.

"Lucas, with all my heart, I hope not," answered Ruth. "But…"

"And most controversial to all is again allowing parents to enslave their own children for their use or to sell if they need the money. Raising slaves for fun and profit."

"Would any mother do that?" squeaked Cody.

"Yes, I'm sorry to say!"

"Oh Dad, we have to stop this! What do Alexander and his parents think of this?" Cody bawled.

"Party discipline requires Emma to support this act and I'm sure Ryan would back her. Where Alexander stands, I don't know. He's a good kid, but I doubt if he is ready to oppose his mom. After all, he's under age 18 and they could sell him into slavery."

It took a few moments for the true horror of what had just been said to permeate the Boys' minds.

"Oh Master," said Lucas, placing his arm around Cody's shoulder, "I feel so sorry for you and Alexander Sir. It can't pass, can it? It just can't!" Both Boys were close to the edge.

"We are trying to see it does not," answered their Dad. "Fortunately, we have some allies we don't usually have… the Abolitionist Party and the entire military establishment. The attempt to reward political supporters has received a lot of play and the public rejects that idea overwhelmingly. I think the Tories have overreached this time. They assumed they could push it through and not have to answer for it."

Despite a vigorous campaign, against the Act, it passed on party discipline… by one vote. The House of Lords could only delay it, but that was the extent of their power. Even subtle intervention by the Crown failed to sway the 'blockheads'. There was serious discussion in the Royal Parliament about revoking BNA's self-governing charter.

The angry opposition voiced by John and Ruth and their supporters had stung Emma Brooks. She was particularly incensed by what she mistakenly took to be their personal attacks on Ryan. So, she set out to make them pay.

The Writ of Anti-Social Behavior provided a convenient tool. She had a friendly policeman issue a trumped-up Writ on Cody!

Alexander was appalled! He had an acrimonious argument with his mother, refusing to believe she would do this! When she announced a plan to seek a second Writ on Cody, he rebelled.

The family fight was so intense, Emma, over serious objections by her husband, actually began steps to enslave Alexander.

Frightened at what his mother might do, but determined, Alexander collected some meager supplies, took Dakota and fled. He left a note for Cody:

Dear Cody,

You have always been my friend and you will be my friend forever. I cannot stay and endure what my Mom is trying to do to you and Lucas and to me and Dakota. I simply can't believe she would do this to you. Maybe my leaving will bring her to her senses.

Don't worry about us. Dakota and I will survive somehow, and one day we will return. Please give our love to Aunt Ruth and Uncle John. If Mom really does have you enslaved, I swear I will free you if it is the last thing I ever do.

Dakota knows some of what is happening and he joins me in sending his love.

Alexander

As Alexander hoped, his flight was enough to bring Emma to her senses. Grief stricken at the loss of their son and what she had tried to do to the family of an old friend and neighbor, she began to reassess the legislation she had helped to pass.

Once Ryan Brooks had realized what his negotiations with the Chinese had set in motion, he rethought the entire scheme and recommended stringent controls on the number of slaves that could be imported. His Chinese 'friends' were not happy.

Within days slave dealers found themselves with a glut on their hands. They had lots of slaves, but no one could afford to buy them. Strapped parents took the opportunity to enslave their own children and sell them to stave off financial disaster. Frustrated parents with unruly teens also used the opportunity to rid themselves of their problems. The greedy, unskilled slave dealers failed to realize there was virtually no market for teens. Now they had lots of bodies to feed and house and the specter of abandonment hung in the air. Most of the dealers would be in bankruptcy in a month or two.

The public's firm opposition to the Slave License scheme and several other attempts by vengeful persons to use the Writ to punish old hatreds – just as she almost had – finally convinced Emma that her party had erred badly.

Several weeks later, she astounded the entire parliament by introducing new legislation to repeal certain parts of the Slave Expansion Act and drastically change others. It placed the stringent limits Ryan recommended on the importation of slaves from any foreign country, mandated continued court supervision of all sales of Class 2 slaves, provided full legal safeguards and due process for Writs of Anti-Social Behavior, and limited parents' rights to enslave their own children for sale. The Prime Minister and his supporters were furious.

She was, of course, expelled from the Tory party, but joined by a handful of other Tory members and the combined forces of the Abolitionist and Liberal MP's, the legislation passed handily.

The Tory Government fell.

In the elections that followed, they continued to be the largest party in Parliament. The alliance between the Liberals and the Abolitionists, fell apart and no party commanded a majority. So, the Tories were forced to form a minority government… with a new leader, to be sure. But they were effectively prevented from ever again putting forth a 'Slave Expansion Act.' Emma, with Ruth and John's vigorous support, retained her seat in Parliament, but as an independent.

In the meantime, Emma and Ryan searched for their missing son and his slave, even enlisting the help of the police.

The Davidson's, wary because of Emma's vendetta against them, chose to keep a low profile, even though they were very concerned about the missing boys.

Two weeks went by with no sign of either and the Brooks were in high panic mode. They knew Alexander did not have much in the way of survival skills and winter was fast approaching.

Then the police discovered Alexander's scooter crashed onto the rocks below the coast highway. Although no bodies were found, the assumption was he had killed himself and his slave and the surf had simply washed the bodies away.

Emma collapsed. Ryan refused to accept that Alexander and Dakota were dead and implored everyone to keep searching. But he had his hands full with his distraught wife and his own little slave, Dassa, who was equally traumatized by what had taken place.

Finally, John could not stand by any longer while a potential disaster unfolded, one that threatened the life and health of two boys whom Ruth and he loved and cherished.

None of the Davidsons believed Alexander had suicided. Cody was pretty sure where Alexander would have taken Dakota, so he and John secretly set out to find them.

Leaving the car at a parking place along the coast highway, they climbed into the surrounding mountain wilderness. So as not to spook them, they carefully approached the place where Cody was sure they were… a small cave he and Alexander had once explored, unknown to either set of parents.

He was right; they were there: cold, hungry and thoroughly miserable, their supplies completely exhausted. Alexander was terrified of them being captured as runaway slaves. He well knew what the penalty was for that. What he didn't know, and could not take a chance on, was that his Mom had not followed through with her threat. He had been undone by the fact she had ever even thought of it. Believing them to be police intent on capturing them, only a flying tackle by John prevented him from hurling himself onto the rocks below.

Alexander was emaciated and his body was covered with scrapes and bruises. It took some time and a lot of hugging by both Cody and John for him to grasp what had happened and that he could go home again. Cody had never seen him cry before.

Dakota was in better shape physically and emotionally. He was used to not having very much and simply trusted that Alexander would never let anything bad happen to him. He was Alexander's slave after all. Cody just held Dakota quietly and he was soon ready to go home with them.

A quick stop at the Davidson home for some food, showers and clean clothes at least made them presentable. They dropped the boys off to the fervent thanks of both Ryan and Emma, still painfully embarrassed by the way they had treated these old and dear friends. Tearfully reunited with their family, it would be some time before Alexander's and Dakota's 'wounds' healed.

Neither family ever discussed the whole painful episode again. It was simply too unpleasant. But neither Cody nor John ever revealed where Alexander and Dakota had hidden.

It had been a very scary few weeks.

He opened the door to find two persons: a middle aged man and a young teen. They both looked exhausted.

"Sir John Davidson?" the man asked.

"Yes."

"Sir John, we need your help desperately!"

The teen threw himself at John's feet and shrieked, "Please, please help us! My little brother is going to die! He's not a bad kid! But they're going to kill him!"

John could tell the man was on the edge of hysteria as well. He helped the boy to his feet. "Please come in and sit down. I'll try to help you if I can." He noticed the boy had trouble walking upright, saw the marks from slave cuffs still on his wrists, and realized be boy had trouble talking as well. "Are you runaway slaves?" he asked.

"I swear we're not, well, not exactly," replied the man. "But you're our last hope. It's about my youngest son, Tristan."

"He's a slave, yes, but he's being tortured to death," added the boy. "A friend told us to find you and you would help save him."

Ruth had heard the doorbell and John's invitation and she appeared with a tray of coffee and sweet rolls.

"Thank you. We haven't eaten for two days."

John noticed the boy had trouble swallowing.

After their visitors had eaten, they relaxed somewhat and John invited, "Why don't you tell me your story from the beginning."

The man heaved a great sigh. "My name is Robert Weathers and this is my older son, Garret. We come from a town in Dakota Province called Deadwood. Our family has lived there for generations. I'm a high-school teacher. The town has a Royal Charter, so we're usually free to do much as we want."

"I guess we should have paid more attention, but a few years ago outsiders started to move in. They sort of took over things and their big effort was to make life much more strict. They certainly did not like kids of any age, especially boys. They instituted a boy slave system and used it as a steady source of manual labor for public works. Suddenly, childish behavior or harmless pranks were illegal and subject to harsh slavery sentences."

"I had been warned about playing ball in the street," sighed Garret, "but I was only twelve years old. I'm fifteen, now, so I won't make that mistake again. But anyway, I threw a ball that broke a shop window."

"Even though my wife and I immediately agreed to pay for the damage, Garret was sentenced to four years at hard labor."

"For breaking a window?" asked an incredulous Ruth. "John, can they do that?"

"With a Royal Charter, they can do anything that doesn't conflict with parliamentary law," answered John, "even excessive and cruel punishment, so long as the law is applied equally. The Judge under that kind of charter is elected and he is pretty much the law."

Both Robert and Garret nodded sadly. "We found that out the hard way."

"Please go on," John encouraged him.

"His mother (he nearly choked, but went on) Tristan and I were present when they took charge of him. It was ghastly! It was…" He couldn't go on.

With anger evident, Garret took over. "They stripped me naked, shaved off all my hair – and I mean all of it – and marked me as a slave." Opening his shirt, he showed them the remains of his last marking across his chest.

"They put my boy parts in a cage so I couldn't get a hard-on. Every time my prick started to get hard, it hurt like hell! They welded it so it couldn't be taken off. They put a plug up my ass and fastened it with a lock. The only way I could poop was during the daily enema they gave us. Then, they put a penis-gag in my mouth to keep me from talking. That was locked, too and only came out when we were eating or sleeping."

"The worst, was the slave collar and cuffs and ankle shackles, heavy metal ones which were welded shut. I still have burns from that. But the absolute worst was the chains, very heavy ones, connected to my collar, cuffs and shackles. I had to carry one half of my body weight! The collar had a thing in it, which gave you a very painful shock, if you were bad. They insisted on demonstrating it. I didn't want to ever feel that again, so I decided to obey them."

"During my processing, I talked without permission twice, so they told me I would be punished. They dragged me into another room and fastened me on my back to a sort of frame with my arms outstretched and my legs apart. 'Since this is your first time' they told me, 'we'll go easy on you. Only half power. But we want you to know what happens to slaves who don't obey.'"

"They fastened an electrical thing to one of my ankle cuffs and another to one of my wrist cuffs. Then, they turned it on."

"Every part of my body felt like it was on fire! I couldn't breathe. I couldn't scream. All I could do was bounce up and down on the frame as every muscle in my body cramped. After what seems like hours, the shut it off and dragged me off to my crew. I don't remember much about the next few days; I was like a zombie. I couldn't remember my name; I didn't know where I was. All I knew was that every part of my body hurt terribly."

"When I finally came out of it, I discovered that I had been assigned to a crew of about ten boys my age and we were forced to work in all kinds of weather, digging ditches, cleaning public toilets, picking up trash, moving rocks. At first, I could hardly walk. But the guards used cattle prods and whips to get us to move and work. We were always naked, but the guards made sure we didn't have time to be cold. Sometimes it was cold enough so our sweat froze on our bodies. If it was really cold out, we worked inside; doing whatever disagreeable jobs they could think up. Most nights none of us could even feel our feet or hands. The chains mostly kept us from huddling together to get warm, but we did the best we could to help each other just survive."

"It was worse in the summer. They drove us to exhaustion; then threw cold water on us and forced us to move on. One day two of the younger boys simply could not get up from where they had fallen on their backs. The guards whipped them on their chests, bellies and groins until no more blood came. They drove us on, leaving them behind. We never saw them again."

"Our guards punished us every day with their whips and prods whether we obeyed them or not. One of their favorite things was to take out our gags and then use the prod on our boy parts so they could hear us scream and watch us dance."

"We worked ten hours, and then had a four hour break when we were fed, if you could call what they gave us food. Then, another ten hours before we were finally allowed to sleep for eight hours."

"At least some of the crew did. The guards liked my ass. That's how I found out the butt plug could come out.

At first, I fought and screamed. But, it didn't matter; they raped me anyway. Sometimes they took out my penis gag and stuck a real penis down my throat. "

"After a few weeks, I decided that all I was doing was keeping the rest of the crew awake, so I just lay there and they could do what they wanted. Get it over with. So I could sleep. Just one more daily pain."

"One day I must have passed out from lack of sleep. The next thing I remembered was hanging by my wrists from an overhead bar. The guards were getting ready to beat me. My shoulders felt like they were coming apart. They had taken my gag out again so they could hear me scream and they forced the whole crew to watch so they would know what happens to a boy who wouldn't work."

"I don't remember much about what happened after that. I guess I screamed, at least the other boys told me I did. They also said the blood ran down my back and legs and dripped onto the ground."

"After a while they must have stopped. But then they found a new way to torture me. They knew if they tweaked my nipples, my prick would try to get hard and the more they did it, the harder my prick would try. The pain… the pain! I must have screamed some more. They finished up by taking the cattle prod to my prick. That made me jump around and my shoulders really did come apart. Fortunately, I passed out."

"When I woke, I was strapped to my bed. I had been out for two days. Probably the only time I wasn't raped at night. They had reset my dislocated shoulders and left me sleep. One of the guards had been replaced and the other one seemed nervous, almost concerned. Guess they didn't want to be accused of destroying valuable property."

"The concern didn't last long. Next day I was back at work. Everything hurt, but that was getting to be normal."

Both Ruth and John had listened with growing horror to the boy's matter-of-fact story, mostly delivered in a monotone, but he wasn't quite finished yet.

"After a few months, I lost track of how many times I had been raped or beaten. It was just survival. I had two broken ribs, a broken collarbone and two concussions. Always back at work the next day. I didn't even think about the end of my sentence. I wasn't sure I would live that long. Two more of the other boys on the crew just disappeared; I think they died."

Garret sat with his head in his hands.

"We were allowed to visit him three times a year. I'm not sure if it was harder for him or for us," continued his dad. "Tristan always had a smart mouth and we wanted to leave him at home, but the authorities said he had to come along. They had warned Garret not to tell us about all the horrible things they did to him, or he would be killed. But, we could tell it was just awful."

"Garret was there for about two and a half years, and Tristan had just turned eleven, when…" Both Robert and Garret began to sob.

It was a few minutes before Robert could continue. "Tristan was out on his new bike, a birthday present. He was always a little mite. At eleven, he looked about nine, so it was a bit big for him. He lost control turning into our driveway and forced an oncoming car to swerve into a steel power pole. The passenger, a little girl about three, hit the windshield and was killed."

"Never mind the child was not belted in; never mind the car was speeding, never mind the driver was talking on a cell phone. The only thing that mattered was the child was the Judge's granddaughter and he was determined to make someone pay."

"Tristan was charged with murder and sentenced to life at hard labor."

"His mom never recovered from the shock. One morning she just didn't wake up. I think she died of a broken heart."

"They didn't even tell me she had died," added Garret. "I only found out about it after they released me."

"At my wife's funeral, I vowed I would save my sons or die trying!"

Garret continued, "They assigned Tris to my crew and told me I was responsible to train him. I recognized him at once and knew right away what his sentence was… his slave markings were branded on him and his but plug was welded to his cock cage and his penis gag was welded to his collar. They would never come out and they fed him with a tube."

"He could barely stand. The bastards made him carry his full body weight. Train him? Hell, it was all I could do just to keep him alive! After a few weeks, he did manage to walk, but we all had to take extra beatings because we tried to help him.

A few weeks later, they cut a slit in my shoulder blade and inserted a chip. Tris had had one in his shoulder when he arrived. It was a new method of tracking you."

"Then, a week ago, they called me in, cut off all my chains and other fittings, even my cock cage. They said I was being paroled for 'good behavior'. But I knew the real reason was so they could torture Tris without me to help him. I hoped the others would look after him, but I don't know."

"The first I knew Garret had been released was when they dumped him naked in our driveway," continued Robert. "I had to tell him about his Mother and how Tristan got in trouble. We spent most of the next few days crying."

"But then, one of my friends told me to find you and you would help us. So I took a kitchen knife and dug the chip out of Garret's shoulder and it's at home on the kitchen table. We drove straight through. Yes, Garret has violated his parole."

"Will you, can you help us?" implored Garret, tears glistening in his eyes.

John took a deep breath. "Of course we will try to help you. I have never heard such a terrible story. Let me make a few calls. I'll be right back."

"Do you have a place to stay?" asked Ruth.

"No Mam, we don't" Robert admitted staring at the floor.

"You do now. You'll stay with us as long as necessary."

"But Dame Ruth, I violated my parole. I'm a fugitive!"

"Well, being a Dame has its advantages – not many, you understand – but one of them is to defy the government occasionally. You'll be safe here." She realized both of them were close to collapse.

A hot shower, some food and sleep would probably revive Robert, but she recognized all the signs of Garret's deep depression. His entire story had been delivered in an expressionless monotone. He was obviously trying to bury his feelings, but this kid needed some serious mothering and he needed it now.

She put him to bed, but he slept fitfully. By the next morning, Robert was mostly normal and could help Ruth look after Garret. Over the next few days, while John was busy with plans for hopefully rescuing Tristan, she and Robert tried to bring the boy out of his depression.

Hoping to get his digestive system functioning again, she fed him soft-boiled eggs, custards and other soft foods, with fairly good results. After a few ungodly messes, his bowels were mostly working once more. She redressed the wound on his shoulder, commenting to Robert, "Well, you did a pretty good job, but I don't think I'll hire you as my surgeon."

Her famous soothing lotion helped to start healing the cuts and welts on his back and legs and the chafe marks and burns left by his slave fittings.

But, between meals, Garret slept fitfully. His dad sat with him during the day and massaged the twisted muscles in his pelvis and thighs, where he had born the most weight.

But, at night, Ruth took the battered youth into her arms to comfort him. He whimpered in his sleep, calling out for his Mom and Tristan.

Finally, early on the third morning he awoke and began to cry. Deep, gasping sobs shook his skinny body. All the pain, all the sorrow, all the anger and despair came tumbling forth in shrieks and moans and hysterical mumblings.

Finally he quieted and just lay there hugging Ruth. "Thank you, Dame Ruth. No one has held me like that since before… before… before…" He couldn't go on as another wave of sadness overtook him.

Recovering, he hugged Ruth tightly, then slacked off, embarrassed. "I guess I'm a little old to be held like a baby."

"You're never too old to be loved and comforted," replied Ruth. He lay there quietly in her arms. "You've had your childhood savagely ripped from you. You have been tortured and beaten. And now, your only thought is to rescue your brother. I'd say some love and comfort is long overdue. I can't be your Mom, but I've had some experience with my own sons and grandsons, so I think I know what you need."

"This important woman… this Dame of the Empire… really loved him," he thought. She made him feel brave and strong, even if his body still hurt terribly.

"Thank you Dame Ruth. I'll be OK, now. We will rescue Tristan, won't we? He's going to be all right, isn't he?"

"We're going to do our very best," replied Ruth

While all this was going on, John labored mightily.

His initial meeting was with the Chief Law Lord, John Roberts. It did not go well.

"There is absolutely nothing you can do about the boy's sentence. It might have been a touch severe, but entirely within the law. The problem with you do-gooders is that you think the law can be ignored when it doesn't suit you. They want to punish this slave and they are within their rights."

"I don't think there is a chance in hell they would sell him to you. The only other way he could be removed from their custody is if he is the center of an epidemic and then as a dead body."

"Now, if you will forgive me, I have some important work to do. Good day, Sir John!"

John was seething, but managed to hold his tongue. "What an ass!" he thought.

But something the Law Lord had said set him to thinking.

On a whim, he stopped to see an old friend, Peter Cartright, who was fairly high up in the Ministry of Health.

"Well, this is a surprise, John… pardon me, Sir John," said his friend.

"Come on, Peter, I'm still just John to you." And he went on to tell Peter the whole story from start to finish.

Peter looked at him with amazement. "You do manage to get involved in some pretty sticky messes, don't you? I don't much care for Lord Roberts, but I think he was actually trying to help you without appearing to."

"I don't understand."

"What most people don't know is the Ministry of Health has some pretty broad powers when it comes to dealing with potential epidemics. We can quarantine a whole region, Royal Charter or not. If we can find the person or persons who is the source of the contagion, we can demand custody, slave or not, and remove them for proper disposal. By that time they are usually dead or soon will be, anyway. Maybe we could manufacture an epidemic."

John was amazed and began to have a shred of hope.

"If we could get this kid away from there, he would still have to serve his term as a slave, but at least… Do you know of a place that would accept him?"

John nodded. "Yes. I'll need to talk to them, but I'm sure they would."

"Paloma?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Tristan would not be the first one I've sent to them. There's a young epidemiologist on my staff, Dr. Ben Casey. He's always trying to save the world. Let me see if he wants to save one battered kid. I'll get back to you tomorrow latest."

John floated home on a cloud. When he told Ruth, she redoubled her efforts to bring Garret along.

He immediately called the Boys in Colorado Springs. After going through the whole story with them, he asked, "Do you think Paloma would take him? By the way, I think this whole affair should not be shared with the Twins just yet. What we're thinking of doing is highly irregular and the fewer people who know about it, the better."

"You're right about that, but I'm sure Paloma would take him, Dad," replied Lucas. "Why don't I get Michael Connor on the line and we'll ask him."

A short few minutes later, "Hello, Sir John. I've wanted very much to meet you to see for myself what kind of man has such wonderful sons and grandsons. When are you coming to visit us?"

"Well, sooner than you might wish." And he shared the whole story for the fourth time that day. "In short, I'm asking you to take a boy who will probably need lots of continuing care and who might not even survive."

It was silent for a moment; then Michael spoke. "You know, once before I took in a young slave whom no one else would even touch. In fact, he's standing here with my son. Seeing Toby grow and develop has been one of my proudest experiences. Yes, we'll take Tristan and his father and brother too, if they would be willing."

"As for taking care of this poor kid, we have a fairly well equipped medical facility here and some pretty skilled med-techs. But from what you've described I would recommend you have a gastroenterologist and an orthopedic specialist here when the kid arrives. You might also want to have a metallurgist available; we don't have much skill in that area."

"Good suggestion. Dad, how about Dr. Lombardy?"

"Great idea, Lucas. I'll check with him. Is there a good orthopedist there at Kings?"

"Dr. Hoffman is one of the best." "And Joe Tesch was my senior advisor in the Engineering Department," added Cody.

"OK," said John. "You get the people lined up at your end and I'll do the same. I won't know what the schedule is until I talk to Pete Cartright again. As soon as I do, I'll let you know Michael. And Michael, thank you for your compassion."

By the end of they day, all the co-opted parties had agreed. Dora Washington had told both Dr. Hoffman and Professor Tesch that, while she didn't know what the project was, they were vital to it and they should do it because the Davidson Boys were leading it. How's that for a recommendation?

Early the next morning, Pete Cartright called. "My Dr. Casey is just beside himself and ready to go. How have you made out?"

When John told him, he exclaimed, "I call to tell you we think we can pull it off and you have everything all organized. You guys are amazing. On that basis, Ben will leave tomorrow and should be in Deadwood by Friday. The highway west from Deadwood eventually skirts the southern end of Paloma. There's a rest stop there and that's where we'll make the transfer."

Everyone agreed, and John sat down with Robert and Garret to tell them what had been put in motion. When he was finished, Garret got up, fell on his knees, buried his head in John's lap and bawled like a small child.

The next morning, John, Alan Lombardy and Robert and Garret left for Paloma, arriving shortly after noon. Cody, Lucas and their two conscripts arrived late in the afternoon. They had told Dr. Hoffman and Professor Tesch the whole story as soon as they had left Colorado Springs.

Michael greeted all of them enthusiastically.

The next morning, the team held its first meeting with Michael, Jonathan, Paulie, Toby and Don Alfredo present. Once more Robert and Garret told their sad story from the beginning. Michael felt it was critical all the important figures at Paloma be fully informed about what was happening.

"Well, I won't be able to do much until I see the actual metal the kid is wearing, but I think we had better be prepared for a long, tough battle trying to remove it," said Joe Tesch.

"You have some pretty good medical facilities," observed Dr. Lombardy, "and I met some of your med-techs, so I feel we are fairly well prepared. From what Garret has told us, I am most concerned about the state of Tristan's digestive system. It's entirely possible this kid will wear a colostomy bag for the rest of his life. What a sad state of affairs."

"Whether he will ever walk normally again," weighed in Dr. Hoffman, "we can only guess. It's pretty certain he'll need lots of therapy and he might be seriously disabled despite our efforts. I don't want to sound pessimistic and neither does Alan, but I think we have to look at things realistically."

"What you are saying," said Michael, "is that we might have a basket case on our hands."

"No!" wailed Garret. "He's a strong kid. I know you will try your best to heal him!"

Cody looked at Lucas. Will Lucas's 'gift' come in to play? Lucas returned his look with a shrug.

"Dad," piped up Paulie. "Toby has a suggestion."

Toby went to his knees in front of Michael. "Please Master. I would like to be responsible for Tristan's care and Master Paul wants to help."

Michael looked down at the boy whose forehead touched the floor. He sighed and shook his head in wonderment. "Please stand up, Toby, and look at me. Yours is a wonderful and loving offer, and I will grant your wish if you promise to do something for me."

"Yes, Master. Anything!"

"Toby, have you ever seen Jonathan on his knees before me?"

"No, Master."

"I don't want to see you on your knees before me ever again either. You may bow your head in respect, when it is appropriate. And you may address me as 'Sir'.

The boy stood wide-eyed. "Yes sir. Thank you, Sir."

Paulie stepped forward and took him into his arms. "Thanks, Dad. Toby and I will be honored to help his father and Garret care for Tristan."

The rest of them stood with brimming eyes.

"Don Alfredo," continued Michael, "please let all your people know what is happening. I think they have a right to know. It could mean some changes for all of us."

"As always, Sir, you are wise," replied the older man.

"Garret," said Dr. Lombardy, "since it will be a day or two before Tristan gets here, it might be a good idea if Dr. Hoffman and I gave you a thorough exam."

"Good idea," said Robert. "We didn't take time for that before we left Deadwood."

The exam took most of the rest of the day.

"Your shoulders, collarbone and ribs seem to have healed OK. There is some damage to your hip and knee joints, but I think some exercise can correct most potential problems and have you walking straight again. The lotion that Dame Ruth sent along has already done wonders for your skin injuries. I think you'll have some scaring, but not extensively."

"Your mouth, jaw and throat are in pretty good shape. Fortunately for you, the gag was removed every day. I shudder to think what we may find with Tristan."

"Your penis has some external scarring, but nothing that should keep you from having a normal sex life. Have you tried to get an erection and cum since you were released?"

"No sir."

"Would you please try it?"

"Here? I'm not sure I can!"

"Just try it."

And to Garret's deep embarrassment, they both stood and watched him try to bring himself off.

After a few beginning strokes, his prick began to rise and finally stood straight up, something it had not done for years. Expecting pain, Garret waited for the agony. But, there was none and he heaved a sigh of relief.

He began a few tentative strokes and his long suppressed feelings kicked in. His excitement slowly built until, finally, his boy cream came spurting out. Out of breath, he slumped back.

"Your ejaculation looked normal. How did it feel?"

"All right, I guess. Not like I remember it, though."

"Well, it will probably take some time for the feeling to return. Your anal canal is in better shape than I hoped for. How many time were you raped?"

"How many nights are there in two and a half years? Sorry, that wasn't fair. Almost every night," Garret replied

"You'll find this hard to accept, but your torturers may have done you a favor. Their repeated assault on you actually helped to keep your anal muscles from withering. If that plug had been kept in there all that time,… I think you should stay on soft foods for a while yet and I'll give Michael directions for some supplements to help you put on some weight again. And, I'll ship you a few cases of supplements when I get back home."

Friday evening, John took a call from Pete Cartright. "Ben arrived this morning, but the local thugs don't want him to examine Tristan. He put his foot down and threatened them with full quarantine, so they've agreed to let him examine Tristan after he has checked all the other enslaved boys. That probably won't be until sometime Sunday."

"I'll let you know as soon as he is ready to leave. There's one other piece of news, also."

John thanked him for the call and went to tell the others. "Dr. Casey hopes to be able to leave sometime Sunday. Everything is going according to plan, so far."

"The bad news is," he said, turning to Robert and Garret, "the authorities discovered you are gone. You both were tried and convicted in absentia. The sentence was slavery for life. I'm sorry, deeply sorry."

"I'm not surprised. I guess we should have expected this," said Robert sadly. "We just…"

"I want you to know," interrupted Michael, "you will have a home at Paloma for the rest of your lives."

"Yes," echoed Don Alfredo. "You are now truly one of us."

Friday morning, Dr Casey pulled up to the Deadwood Charter Slave Processing and Labor Center. It was clearly a government facility. It looked a lot like a school, big and cold with flags fluttering out front in the breeze, with the obvious exceptions that its few windows were narrow slits and that it was surrounded by a tall fence capped with razor wire.

He got out of the car and went in, asking for the Director. A pinched-faced man ushered him into his office.

"I'm Dr. Ben Casey from the Ministry of Health," he said, displaying his credentials for the Director.

"We did not request assistance from the Ministry, "replied the director. "Why are you here?"

"One of your former employees – a guard, I believe – was reported to us having symptoms of an epidemic disease."

"Must have been that fool guard we fired for nearly injuring one of our inmates. Why does that bring you here?"

"We've not located the source of the infection, so we will have to examine everyone he came in contact with," explained Ben. "I will have to examine every member of your staff and all of your inmates."

"Now see here!" snorted the director. "I can't permit that! We have a Crown Charter"

"You can and you will, or I will quarantine the entire area and bring in troops to enforce it. Here is the order giving me authority." And he handed the Director and official-looking document. "Your Crown Charter does not shield you from Health Ministry regulations."

"I'll start with the inmates. How many do you have and what are their ages and terms?"

"We have twenty-two boys between ten and sixteen, serving terms ranging from six months to four years. And one eleven-year-old with a life sentence. I cannot let you examine him, however."

"If necessary I will and I remind you I have authority to remove you if you impede my investigation. Please provide me with an examining room."

Ben went back to his SUV, unloaded his equipment and carried it into the room the Director indicated. It contained a large, padded table and several smaller ones where he laid out his equipment.

The Director, meanwhile, called the Judge in a panic. "What should I do?"

"Just cool it! Cooperate with him and get him out of here as soon as possible. We have done nothing illegal to any of the inmates. Make sure he examines Weathers last. He'll have tired by then."

Ben had been fully briefed by Cartright as to what he might find at the facility. But, nothing could have prepared him for the condition of the boys he examined.

They were filthy, covered with welts and bruises, half-starved and restrained in heavy metal bondage gear. Their gags had been removed, but in each one's face and eyes he saw only pain and despair. None of them spoke to him.

One practice that was different from what he had been told, concerned the butt plugs. Garret, apparently, was the first one to have his made removable. The staff had decided the daily enemas were too much work.

The cramps and pain from the laxatives in their food provided sufficient entertainment for the most jaded of the sadists, since the boys still could only defecate once day, after their second ten-hour shift.

To remove it, a cord was attached to the ring on the plug and it was brutally ripped out of his anus, causing great pain. Replacing the plug again also was exceedingly painful, so the staff could get their kicks that way. Besides, while the plugs were out, a wide assortment of well-stretched boy holes was available for other uses.

It took all his professional effort to keep from breaking down. It was a monstrous miscarriage of justice, but he could do nothing about it. But, he did the only thing he could: document the horrors in great detail.

He took blood, urine and sputum samples from each boy and was able to record all the information off their chips, including not only their physical data, but also the details of their charges, 'trial' and sentence. He also photographed each one in great detail.

The last two boys – except for Tristan – were the newest ones sentenced. Ben immediately saw they were different; they wore no cock cages. He could not see their penises, either. The boys whimpered on the table and tried to lie in a fetal position, but the guard held them flat.

Noticing Ben's surprise, the guard, with a dirty smirk, lifted their legs to show what they had done to the boys.

During processing, they had dismissed the parents, placed each boy on his back and tied his legs over his head, bending them almost double. Pulling his soft penis down between his legs until it was stretched painfully, they fastened it in his crotch using a new type of 'glue'. The material had been developed to replace stitches during surgery, dried almost instantly and actually caused the skin to grow together,

After that, every step the boy took pulled on his penis causing great pain. If his penis tried to get hard, he screamed in agony as his penis was almost torn from his body and his balls crushed between his legs. When he peed, his urine always ran down his legs and into his boots.

"It wasn't very practical," smirked the guard. "We don't get much work out of them."

It was all Ben could do to keep his steadily mounting anger from boiling over. He saw instantly that delicate and painful surgery – perhaps even penetectomy (surgical removal of the penis) – would be necessary to undo this gross assault on the boy. He could hardly bear to look at the pain and anger in the boys' eyes.

"Working around the clock, with only a short break for some food he had brought with him and a two-hour nap (he felt like he was an intern, again) he had completed all twenty-two boys by Saturday evening. Only Tristan remained.

Wanting to be sure he was in good shape for what he knew lay ahead, he did sleep that night… in his SUV.

Sunday morning, before he was allowed to continue his examination, civic duty intruded, taking all the inmates and their guards away. They, with the rest of the townspeople, were called upon to witness an execution.

Two siblings had been discovered by their parents 'exploring' each other. Thinking to impress upon them the seriousness of their transgression, the parents reported the incident to the authorities, expecting a harsh lecture and a public paddling at most.

The Judge, instead, charged them with incest – even though there was no penetration – and sentenced them to be hanged. The boy was eleven years old and the girl was nine.

When Ben arrived at the execution site, the two victims had already been stripped; their hands securely fastened behind their backs and were standing shivering on separate pedestals. Nylon cords had been tied around their necks and fastened to an overhead bar. There was almost no slack, assuring they would slowly strangle to death once the pedestals were removed. They were frightened to the point of numbness. Their parents were in a state of collapse.

The Judge read the charges and pronounced sentence.

The executioner approached the girl with a cattle prod. He zapped her right nipple; she let out a blood-curdling scream but managed to keep her balance on the pedestal. A zap to her left nipple, produced the same result. A third application of the prod to her vagina had the desired effect; she lost her balance and swung free.

Her shriek changed to a strangling gurgle as she kicked desperately trying to climb back up on the pedestal; but it was swiftly removed, leaving her dangling.

Her body jerked and twisted for a long time.

Then it was still, with her urine and feces running down her legs and pooling on the ground.

The boy, meanwhile, had seen what happened to his sister. In a final burst of courage, he jumped from his pedestal, surrendering his body to the strangling cord. It took five minutes for him to die!

The crowd was completely silent, full of sullen anger. One of the slave crews was assigned to clean up the mess, but the bodies were not removed and were still hanging there when Ben left later that day.

Almost driven to hysteria by what he had witnessed, Ben did manage to clandestinely film the affair, but it would take him some time to compose himself enough to continue with his mission.

Returning to the Slave Center, he confronted the guard who had been 'helping' him. "Bring him in."

"But Sir!"

"BRING HIM IN!" Ben's patience with these child abusers was starting to wear thin.

He gazed down at the thin, emaciated, twisted body on the examining table. A young boy who had been systematically beaten and tortured until he was almost unrecognizable. His torso, back and legs were so misshapen the boy could not lie flat on the table. The places where they had branded him were swollen and looked to be infected.

Ben very nearly lost it. He estimated that Tristan would not have lasted more than a month or two.

"Why is his gag still in place?"

"I can't remove it. It's permanent," And he showed Ben the welds holding it in place. "We feed him with a tube."

"Go and get the Director."

"But Sir, I'm not supposed to leave you alone."

Ben fished out his communicator. "I'm calling for troops!"

"Wait! I'll get him!" And he scuttled out of the room to get the Director.

As soon as they were alone, Ben leaned over the boy. "Tristan. Can you hear me? Just nod."

The boy stared up at Ben with wary blue eyes. Finally he nodded.

"I'm going to get you out of here, but you have to help me. I'm going to put something in your feeding tube. It will make you feel awful and appear to be very sick. But it won't hurt you." Pulling a small jar out of his pocket, he squirted several teaspoons of fluid into Tristan's feeding tube. "Swallow it!"

The boy did and lay back waiting for the worst. "What does he know about feeling awful," he thought.

The director came storming into the room.

"How am I to examine this child with that thing stuck in his throat?"

"He's a life-time slave and it would take hours to remove it."

Ben could see the 'medicine' beginning to act on the boy. He was flushed and sweating profusely. His body began to jerk in spasms.

"I've no doubt we have found the source. Primary Bubonic Plague!. Just look at him."

"How can you be sure?"

Ben ignored the question. The next few moments would determine whether the mission was successful.

"I will have to take him to our lab in San Diego so we can determine what particular strain of the bacillus is present and prepare serum to administer to all residents of the area. From the looks of him, he may not get there alive."

"I will not let you take him out of this facility. He is a slave being punished for murder."

"All right, Mister Director, you have two choices. You can release him to me. Or I can have troops seal off the entire county and you will all be dead within two weeks."

"No!" screamed the Director. "All right, you can have him."

Ben produced some papers, a routine release form and the Director signed.

"He has a chip in his body, so we will be able to track you all the way to San Diego," the Director informed Ben. "So we will know at once if you are trying to pull something. How are you going to transport him?"

"In my SUV, which is equipped to handle him."

"Why don't you transport him by air? It would be faster."

"The Ministry does not transport biohazards by air. The trip will take several days and I will stop at night. We don't transport biohazards at after dark, either."

The Director stomped from the room. He sensed something not quite correct, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Ben turned to his helper. "I'll need a litter or something similar to hold him."

The guard left and returned with a wooden box… a coffin. Ben was appalled, but did not complain.

"Get me some blankets and pillows."

"But sir, he's going to die shortly, isn't he?"

"I don't care. I intend to make his last hours as comfortable as I can. I don't care what he has done, he at least deserves that."

The guard returned with a stack of dirty blankets and equally dirty pillows.

Ben lined the coffin with some of the blankets and, together, they lifted the boy, chains and all, into it. He used the rest of the blankets and the pillows under Tristan's knees, hips, head and shoulders to compensate for his twisted body.

The guard insisted on nailing a lid on the coffin and helped Ben carry it to his SUV and placed it in the passenger side that had been modified to accept a litter.

Ben knew they would be listening in, and he used his communicator, "San Diego Lab, this is Dr. Casey ready to depart Deadwood with a biohazard patient."

"We read you Dr. Casey, please proceed," came the reply from Cody at Paloma. "Call us when you are ready to stop for the night."

Climbing into the SUV, Ben eased it out of the parking lot and quickly headed southwest. A few miles out of town, he risked a short stop and ripped the lid off the coffin.

The sight of the battered little boy was more than he could take and he spent the next fifty miles bawling like a child. The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that the young child next to him had entrusted him with his life. The 'medicine' had worn off, but Tristan, by this time was beyond tears.

They made good time. The road was not crowded and the few vehicles they met gave the SUV, with its biohazard markings, a wide berth. Just before sundown, they pulled into a parking area, where they would spend the night. Keeping up the ruse, he reported in to 'San Diego'.

A short inspection of his companion soon convinced him he could do nothing about removing any of Tristan's restraints. "I'm sorry," he told the boy, "I hoped I could get some of this stuff off you, but I simply don't have the equipment. It's going to have to wait until we get to where your dad and brother are." He pulled out his ipod and was about to make a note, when Tristan shakily raised a hand and pointed to it.

It suddenly dawned on him. The boy couldn't speak. But he would have had someway to communicate with his jailers. He placed the device into the boy's hand and watched him slowly type a text message.

who r u?

"My name is Dr. Ben Casey. I'm from the Ministry of Health. I was sent to rescue you from that awful place. You and I convinced them there was an epidemic going on and I needed to take you to our Lab in San Diego. They had no choice but to let me. Of course, there is no epidemic, but by the time they figure that out, you'll be safe from them."

where we go?

"To a place called Paloma Ranch, where your dad and brother are. There will be doctors there to help you recover. You'll still be a slave, but your life will much better, even pleasant."

why you do?

"A friend of your dad asked us to help. After seeing you in that awful place, I would have saved you if I had to fight my way out of there. I'm just very sad I could not do anything for the other boys. But, I'm going to try my very best to have that place shut down as soon as I get you to Paloma."

how family? where is mom?

Ben thought for a minute. What should he tell this child? He decided truth was the best. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, Tristan, but your Mom died about a month ago."

Tristan did still have some tears left and he shed them for his Mom. No one had to tell him that he was the reason she had died.

"You were enslaved unfairly and treated horribly and she just could not get over that. I'm sorry, deeply sorry. But now you have to live for your dad and brother. Your dad is OK and Garret is recovering from his injuries. And you are going to be together again."

thank u for telling thank u for saving garret kept me alive

Ben was near tears again, but he composed himself. "There's something I must do to you tonight. I've got to take that chip out of your shoulder. Otherwise, they will know when I drop you at the Ranch instead of going to San Diego. It's going to hurt like hell, but I have no choice. Afterward, I'll feed you."

go ahead. i hurt bad now what is 1 more

To get at the chip, Ben had to roll the boy partly onto his side. He knew that hurt him, but Tristan never whimpered. Working as gently and carefully as he could, he cut the chip out with its covering of Tristan's skin and placed it in a special container he had brought. Tristan screamed into his gag, but settled down once more after Ben bandaged the wound.

Ben wished, with all his heart, he could take the boy into his arms and comfort him, but it was impossible. He stroked Tristan's cheeks and held his hand. After a while he fed the boy some of the special concentrate he had brought and carefully diapered him. Then, he gave him a shot so he would sleep until they were almost at the hand-off point.

They were on the way again early the next morning, after reporting in to 'San Diego'. Using a secure channel, he advised his boss he expected to reach to hand-off point by early the next afternoon. Pete relayed the message to the waiting crew at Paloma.

The team agreed there was little the doctors could do until they got Tristan into the medical facility, so they decided against sending one of the doctors to make the pick up. Both Robert and Garret wanted to make the pick up, but they wisely talked them out of it. The odds they could operate coherently once they saw Tristan were pretty slim. So, Cody was assigned that task.

There was a dirt track leading from the Ranch that intersected the highway across from a rest area where the hand off would occur. He parked a short distance up the track on Paloma land and waited.

Shortly after 2:00, Ben's SUV rolled into the rest area and Cody was along side of him almost immediately.

They quickly made the transfer and both were on their way in less than a minute. One on to San Diego, hoping the chip would not betray him and the other on to the Ranch with his precious cargo. Cody had only time for a short glance at Tristan, but that was enough to bring out tears.

When they arrived, he and Lucas and the doctors gently removed Tristan from his 'coffin' and carried him into the facility where his dad and brother awaited him. Dr. Lombardy managed to find a few veins in the boy's scrawny arms and immediately started saline and glucose drips.

Robert took one look at his battered son and collapsed. Garret had seen his brother before he was released, so he fared a bit better. They sedated Robert, put him to bed and Garret was given the job of caring for him. It was general consensus that Robert and Garret should not see Tristan again, until the doctors had finished their evaluation and at least some the bondage gear had been removed. That ended up taking far longer than they thought it would, but both Robert and Garret waited patiently.

The team agreed the first thing they needed to do was get the chains off him. They were made of hardened steel and it took Joe Tesch, Cody and Lucas nearly twenty-four hours until they were off.

Meanwhile several of the Acoma men had set up a drum circle a short distance away. The quiet throb of the Great Drum would sound continuously for as long as necessary. "What are they doing?" inquired Dr. Lombardy.

"They are calling to the Healing Spirits," explained Don Alfredo. "It is a custom of our people whenever one of us had been seriously injured or is sick. The little boy has been gravely injured by evil persons and has bravely survived. We humbly consider him and his father and brother one of us."

"What a beautiful custom. It's a very comforting sound," agreed the doctor

After their preliminary exam, the doctors established a set of priorities: number one was removal of the gag, followed by the butt plug and the penis cage. How quickly they could move on to the rest, would depend what they found when those three were off the boy.

They quickly set up a schedule for themselves, calling on Joe Tesch, as they needed him. The four teens – Cody, Lucas, Toby and Paulie – would each stand six-hour shifts to be available to assist.

Joe had studied the bondage material and quickly determined their tools were not at all adequate. Casehardened ceramic steel is one of the hardest materials on earth. It would take them months to saw through it with the tools at their disposal.

He contacted a friend who owned a firm that built safes. When he explained the problem, his friend immediately sent him a portable tool that his firm used when they had to cut open a damaged safe.

In the meantime, they started to work on the gag.

The work was difficult; they had to be very careful not to injure the boy as they tried to saw through the straps that held the gag in place. It was very stressful to Tristan and every so often he slipped into shock and they had to stop work until Alan could stabilize him again. By the end of the first day, they were all discouraged and exhausted.

Lucas was relieved by Toby just as the sun was going down. Leaving the building, he found a quiet spot, fell on his knees and did something he had seldom done before… he prayed.

"Oh God," he cried, "I don't know whether you have given me the gift of healing or not. But, if you have, please help me to heal this little boy. I beg you! But, please heal him. He has suffered so much. Please, God!" He was there with his head in his hands, still weeping, when Cody found him a short time later.

But, from that time on, Tristan stabilized and began to improve. Coincidence? I think not.

Toby and Dr. Lombardy went over the procedures they had worked out to feed Tristan and evacuate his bowels. "Don't you want me to stay with you?" asked the Doctor.

"I'll be fine," answered Toby. "You've had a very hard day and you need some sleep. I'll call you if I need help, but I think I can handle it." Alan tousled the boy's hair and withdrew.

Tristan didn't want to eat at first, but Toby admonished him, "Come on Tris. You have to eat. I know everything hurts, but it won't be much longer now. You need to be strong for the doctors and Professor Tesch."

Tristan gave in and consumed almost half a container of the concentrate.

The next task for Toby was to evacuate his bowels thru the enema tube. It was dirty, horrible work, but he did it lovingly and cheerfully.

Tristan lay on the table at about a thirty-degree angle that was more comfortable for him and allowed his urine to drain to a tub under the table. The discharge from his anus would go to the same place. A pulley attachment to an overhead bar allowed his legs to be raised.

When he slowly raised Tristan's legs over this head to get at the plug and its tube, he noticed a small pressure valve on the plug. He called Dr. Lombardy at once and the two of them decided to release the valve.

The plug immediately shrank and now fitted much more loosely in the boy's distended rectum. The plug had already painfully stretched the boy's hole when it was inserted, but the pressure stretched it still further and forced ratchets into the wall of his anal canal. The pain was excruciating and any attempt to move or withdraw the plug would have shredded the canal and probably killed him.

A mixture of blood and feces began to dribble out of the boy's rectum around the plug. They managed to enlarge the opening in the table, so Tristan's bowels could drain as necessary.

Toby was covered with blood and shit and Dr. Jacoby sent him off to shower and to bed. He sat holding Tristan's hand until Paulie came on duty at midnight. He showed Paulie what they had done and then went off to get some rest himself.

The next day, the new tools arrived and they made much more progress.

By late afternoon, they had sawed through the last strap holding the gag in place. Dr. Lombardy carefully removed the gag.

Tristan's tongue and throat had been rubbed raw by the gag and his jaw was locked after being stretched open for all those months. With hot compresses and massage, they managed to free it and Tristan closed his mouth for the first time in more than six months. It would ache horribly for a while, but miraculously there appeared to be no further damage.

His vocal cords were intact, and he surprised them all by rasping, "Thank you!" Robert and Garret were informed and allowed a short visit with Tristan. Both were very happy to see his cute face again and hugged him as best they could before leaving him in the hands of the medical team again.

That evening, Toby had the honor of feeding Tristan his first food by mouth since he had begun his sentence, more than six months earlier. He swallowed a few sips of warm broth and a few spoonfuls of vanilla pudding. Not exactly a square meal, but to Tristan it was a feast.

By noon the next day, the plug was out of his ass. The damage there was significant. His anal walls were scarred and lacerated and his sphincter muscles were almost gone. The prognosis was not encouraging, but they did not tell him that.

It took two full days to get the chastity device off him. His penis was scarred and sore and his balls were almost gone. Fortunately, he had not entered puberty, so his body had not tried to produce sperm yet. Whether he ever would go thru puberty was an unknown.

Another day saw the removal of his wrist and ankle restraints. That meant Dr. Hoffman could begin therapy on his arms and legs.

For the next several days, with Cody's and Lucas's help he massaged, stretched and exercised Tristan's limbs, trying to undo the damage of carrying all that weight for so long.

It was very painful for Tristan and exhausting for both Dr. Hoffman and the Boys. Tristan was frequently forced to scream, but not once did he ever ask them to stop. Garret and Robert sometimes watched with tears in their eyes, but they both knew the pain was necessary if Tristan was ever to walk properly again.

At night, Toby and Paulie held him and comforted him as best they could.

The one fitting remaining was the slave collar. They approached it with caution because of the electronics within it. They finally decided to cut the welds themselves and then try to snatch it off before it could deliver its lethal shock. That required some meticulous cutting, but finally they were ready.

They sat Tristan upright and Lucas held him around the chest while Cody made ready to pull the two halves of the collar apart and off him.

There was a blinding electrical discharge that knocked Cody across the room and Lucas and Tristan back onto the table. But, after a few moments, everyone was OK.

The Team had won. Tristan was free! His tears of joy matched Lucas's as he hugged the little boy tenderly. "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!" was all Tristan could say.

He had his first shower in six months with Cody beside him to soap and rinse him. Putting a clean diaper on him, Toby carried him gently into the next room where Robert and Garret waited for him. Garret held out his arms and took Tristan from Toby.

"Well, little brother, it's nice to have you back again." Robert was so overcome, he simply couldn't speak.

"Garret," rasped Tristan, "I'm so ashamed I treated you so horribly all the time and annoyed you and picked at you, 'specially after you were sentenced. How can you ever forgive me?"

"Hey, little brother, don't sweat it. I wasn't exactly a great brother to you, either. But you were still my brother and I couldn't let those animals kill you. We had to get you free, no matter what! I don't know how we can ever repay all these friends for helping. But, I want you to know I'll always love you and try to look out for you."

"Thank you Garret! You're the best!" And he snuggled down in his brother's arms and went to sleep.

While the team at Paloma was struggling to free Tristan, Dr. Casey had been busy, also. When he reached San Diego, he turned the chip over to the technicians there and quickly returned to his home office. With Pete Cartright's help, he wrote a thorough report of his trip to Deadwood and was scathing in his denunciation of the whole regime there. The report went up through channels, finally landing on the Prime Minister's desk.

The Prime Minister ignored it.

Since Deadwood was a Crown Charter City, a copy was forwarded to Buckingham where a Crown Secretary read it and, after getting himself under control again, took it straight to the King.

William read the report with increasing horror and anger. It took him less than an hour to suspend Deadwood's charter and place the city under martial law. He called to service a battalion of the Maori Marines from New Zealand and directed them to occupy the city as soon as possible and to remain there until those responsible for the practices outlined in Dr. Casey's report were held accountable.

Because of a bureaucratic snafu, notice of the occupation by the Marines was sent to the civil authorities at Deadwood fully four days before they would arrive.

That gave the Judge and his cohorts ample time for certain preparations.

They beat the remaining twenty-two boys bloody, shackled them tightly spread-eagle to their sleeping platforms, booby-trapped the building, and fled.

Realizing the staff had disappeared, two of the boys' fathers attempted to enter, setting off a huge explosion that destroyed the Processing Wing and killed one of them.

Fortunately, the former staff did not have much in the way of demolition skills, so the damage did not reach the cellblock. Their intent had been to destroy the entire building and kill all the boys.

The other man was not injured seriously, but all the parents were now afraid to attempt to reach the boys and anxiously waited for the arrival of the Marines. They were no sooner out of their transport than the frantic parents besieged them.

The battalion had demolition and explosive experts assigned and they set to work at once. But it took another day and a half before they could enter the cellblock.

What they found was heartbreaking. These hardened veterans of some of the most savage battles in the Empire, emerged with tears running down their cheeks. The sergeant major was so upset, he had to be sedated.

Twenty-two boys had been bound to their bunks for six and a half days in complete darkness with no heat, no food and no water. They had always been emaciated but were now severely dehydrated as well. They lay there in the cold and dark, in their own feces and urine for the entire time.

Although it was still winter in Deadwood, the weather gods sent them a relatively mild spell or they would surely have frozen to death. Even so, they were all in various stages of hypothermia. Constant exposure to cold weather had hardened their naked bodies, but even that had its limits. The marine surgeon said flatly they would all have died within a day or two.

Two of them had died: one had choked to death the first day on his own bodily fluids. The other boys heard him choking, but could do nothing to save him. Listening to his death throes would haunt them all their lives.

The other boy silently bled to death from the beating. Ironically, he was the son of the man who had been killed trying to break in and had only a few days remaining on his sentence.

A full emergency medical team was requested and it swiftly arrived, accompanied by Dr. Casey. He was disheartened to see how much the boys had deteriorated changed in the two weeks since he had examined them. Re-hydrating them and countering the effects of their hypothermia was first priority; their gags and butt plugs were next.

The bondage gear was swiftly removed; the chastity cages, less swiftly. Then, real showers with warm water and skin lotions to heal the sores that blanketed their bodies. Slowly, the boys began to eat normal food and slowly their digestive systems responded. Many of them required diapers, however.

As soon as he was able, each one was paroled to his parents. He was technically under house arrest and could not leave the town, but could resume as many normal activities as his physical condition would allow.

Each would have to serve out his sentence, but that was limited to Community Service on weekends. That spring the Community Parks never looked better.

For the first few weeks, all the boys did little more than eat and sleep. But they gradually started to move about. Hot showers and exercise therapy would, in time, correct the damage done to joints and ligaments. Gradually, too, they began to enjoy a normal diet as their tortured anal canals healed

The two boys with their penises fastened between their legs could do little more than lie in a fetal position to relieve the pain, with a pillow between their legs so they wouldn't crush their balls any more. But at least their parents could comfort them and they were not being tortured and starved any more. Surgery would have to wait until they completed their sentences. But they courageously joined their mates for the memorial service for the two children who were hanged and their own who had died while in slavery.

Moving slowly through the town with muffled drums, the marines led the way to a spot near the former Center. The seven families who had lost children followed along with the twenty remaining boys who had been enslaved. Two of them could hardly walk but they would not abandon their mates. It seemed strange to them seeing their mates clothed.

A surprise mourner was Prince Harry who had flown in that morning with a personal message from the King. He conferred briefly with the marine colonel who was the acting mayor and was called upon to speak.

For the occasion he had dressed as a common workman. Before speaking to the crowd, he invited the twenty boys, standing before him, to sit or otherwise make themselves as comfortable as possible. Not one of them wavered an inch.

"I speak to you today, not as royalty, but as your humble servant. The King is devastated by the knowledge that We are complicent in the terrible wrongs that have been done here in Our name. The Crown, for all intents and purposes simply abandoned you. We have forfeited your trust. We did not live up to the Charter and We are deeply ashamed."

"William wishes you to know, as do I, that We grieve with all of you for what has come to pass, and especially for the eight young lives that have been so brutally lost. While seven families have born the principal loss, have we all not suffered with them? Have we all not seen a beautiful and vibrant community turned into a cesspool of depravity?"

"On behalf of our sovereign, I pledge to you We will do everything in Our power to assist these young survivors to regain physical and emotional health; to assist families to become whole again. We humbly seek to regain your trust."

After the applause, the marine colonel stepped forward. "There is standing among you a person who has made this day possible. Dr. Casey, will you come forward?"

Ben was puzzled, but he complied.

"Benjamin Alan Casey, MD, you placed both your person and profession at serious risk when you came here to rescue Tristan Weathers. Not only were you in danger from physical harm, even death, from the perpetrators of these ghastly crimes, but also your freedom and profession could have been forfeit because the actions you took to save Tristan could be judged extra-legal, if not illegal. As the current administrator of this city, acting for the Crown, I hereby absolve you of any action you took on behalf of your mission."

"It is unusual," he continued," for a civilian to be awarded a military honor. But, by your actions, you have faced danger such that few of us will ever face and you have performed you mission with courage and compassion. It is therefore my honor to present you with this Empire's highest decoration for valor, the Victoria Cross."

The applause for the young doctor went on for many minutes.

Finally Ben was able to speak. "I'm simply almost without words. I thank His Majesty for this honor, but what I did was not extraordinary. My oath pledges me to heal the sick and injured. That's all I was doing. And that is what the doctors who treated Tristan were doing. It is the common bond all physicians share."

"I was raised to understand there are times in life when you take whatever risks are necessary and simply do what is right. This was one of those times."

The colonel handed Ben a sheet of paper. Ben read it and shared with the audience. "There is one family of this community, the Weathers, who are not here today. They serve a lifetime sentence of slavery at an undisclosed location. The King has vacated their sentences; they are free again!"

Ever so slowly, the boys all began to be boys again, but never fully. Their physical injuries healed well enough, but the emotional scars would remain for the rest of their lives.

The Special Judicial Master appointed by the Crown, reviewed the sentences of all the boys and determined they were, unfortunately, within the law, as it existed, even if they were overly severe. The boys who were held at the Center, had never been legally slaves, however, as the correct papers were never filed.

The conviction and hanging of the two siblings, on the other hand, were found to be completely extra-legal. Likewise, the deaths of at least four of the boys at the Center were found to be illegally obtained. The Judge and the Director were changed in absentia, with murder and the entire staff with accessory to murder. Crown warrants were issued for all of them.

The Deadwood Charter Slave Processing and Labor Center was leveled.

Two days after Tristan's reunion with his father and brother, the entire team met for the final time. The drums had stopped.

"Well," began John, "I think we can all be proud of what we did for this unfortunate boy. But, you realize, of course, some of the actions by both us and young Dr. Casey were highly irregular, if not illegal. So I must remind you that you cannot discuss them with family, colleagues or students. You can tell them simply that you helped to save the life of a young boy."

"Yesterday, I received a copy of Dr. Casey's report on the conditions he found at Deadwood. It is a horrible compendium of savagery and child abuse.

"This morning, I received a message that the Crown has suspended the Royal Charter and ordered military units to occupy the town. It is doubtful if there was ever a legal basis for the Center to exist. The boys will be freed to their parents while their exact status is investigated. Regardless, the Center will be permanently shut down. I immediately informed the Weathers and, needless to say, they are very pleased."

That announcement invoked a cheer.

"With actions taken by the Crown, I think we can anticipate there will be no repercussions from our actions, but it would still be well if we kept them confidential.

"Now that I have discharged my duty as a peer, let me say how truly grateful I personally am for how you all responded so quickly and unselfishly. And to you, Michael, for welcoming this family into your care. The task your son and Toby have taken on will be very difficult. I know they are studying to become future managers and caring for Tristan will increase their burden substantially. But they are both outstanding young men."

"Paloma is truly an amazing place and it reflects your spirit. You have given the Acoma people hope and a new life, and you have given the Weathers the same hope of a new and better life. All of us on this team thank you for who you are and what you have done."

"Thanks is due to you also, Sir John," replied Alan. "If it had not been for your and Dame Ruth's recognition of the need of this family and your willingness to pursue what you knew was right regardless of cost, Tristan would be dying an unspeakably painful death."

"Cody and Lucas! What Can I say? You are simply your father's sons!"

"Richard and I met with Robert, Garret and Tristan last evening and gave them an unvarnished look at what they have ahead of them and I think the same kind of report is due all of you as well. There are some hard decisions ahead. Why don't you start, Richard."

"I don't think there is any question," began Dr. Hoffman, "there is serious damage to Tristan's spine, hips and knees. I have discussed with the Weathers' and Paul and Toby, the exercises they will need to help Tristan. It is far too early to tell if surgery will be necessary or even helpful. We have to face the possibility that Tristan may never walk normally again."

"The exercises will be painful for him and tiring for all of you, but he's a tough little guy and I know he wants very much to regain his health. If surgery enters the picture, I will bring an entire medical team here, if necessary, and we'll do whatever is required. I take back what I just said; this kid will walk normally again!"

"There's another member of our team who tends to be so quiet he gets overlooked. Joe, without your expertise and contacts, we'd still be sawing away on the chains."

"I'm just so thrilled to have helped," replied Joe Tesch. "This kid was worth every second I worked on him. My heart is full when I think that he is free again and I had a part in that. Thanks for the opportunity to help."

"I have good news, bad news, and worse news," continued Alan.

"First, the good news. His mouth and throat are in much better shape than I had ever hoped for. His throat and tongue are raw and sore and his jaw will ache for a while, but I found no permanent damage. His vocal cords are intact with a little straining from screaming into that hideous gag. But he should have no trouble talking although I doubt if he will be much of a singer."

"Of more concern are his sexual parts. His penis is heavily scarred… I would hate to think what it might have looked like if he had been into puberty. But that will heal. The problem is his testicles. The application of the cattle prod on them has almost destroyed them. He may never reach puberty and we will probably have to remove them. We should be able to tell in a few weeks."

"If that becomes necessary, The University, will supply you, Michael, with male hormone serum, so he will develop into a mostly normal teen and adult. You have told me you already have another young man who is similarly challenged, so I feel comfortable with you administering it." None of the team, including Alan, would have guessed that the other young man was Toby.

"The most serious damage, however, is to his anal canal. It is scarred and, in some cases, perforated by the action of the butt plug. In addition, the sphincter muscle is almost gone. We can repair the canal and it will probably heal OK if we can prevent infection."

"But the options for defecation are not great."

"He can, of course, wear a colostomy bag. Not a very happy prospect for the rest of his life."

"One of my colleagues has been doing some work with stem cells and has been able to re-grow muscle tissue in primates. It's never been tried on humans. Since Tristan is a slave boy, getting permission to try it on him would be easy."

"When I presented these options to Tristan last night, he was adamant. 'I don't want to carry a bag of my shit around for the rest of my life!' I'll send my friend here for an evaluation in about two months. The anal canal should be healed by the time. Until then, it will be soft foods for him and he'll have to just drip."

It was Michael's turn. "I know some of you were initially worried about Paloma's willingness to accept a young boy so badly injured. Would we be willing to accept the burden of his care? And I said that we had once accepted another young boy who was both physically and emotionally wounded." He placed his arm around Toby's shoulder. "We're very glad we did. I think this whole family will contribute much to Paloma. We need teachers and brave, courageous young people."

They spent the rest of the day visiting with Robert, Garret and Tristan. Cody and Lucas both got big hugs from Tristan and John from both Garret and Tristan. "Please thank Dame Ruth once more for me," pleaded Garret. "I will," replied John.

The next morning, they all headed back to 'civilization'. John and Alan to the coast, where Ruth was waiting patiently for news of their success, and Cody, Lucas, Richard and Joe to Colorado Springs. It had simply never occurred to Ruth that they might fail, but she wanted to hear all about it.

Dropping Richard and Joe at the college, the Boys headed for the Bartons where the Twins had been staying.

Their welcome was tumultuous! They had been gone almost two weeks and the Twins were hungry to have them back. Their reluctance to talk about their 'mission' brought forth howls from all four of the kids, but Dr. Barton put an end to that. "Come on, boys. If Lucas says they can't talk about it, there must be a very good reason. They have told you that you will know about it some day, so you'll just have to be patient. Although, I must admit I'm intrigued, too." That brought a laugh from all of them.

So, they settled back into 'normal' life. But it bothered both Cody and Lucas that they had not told the boys what they had done. They had always trusted them absolutely and this was the first time they had ever concealed anything from them. Granted, there were others involved, but it still rankled. The Twins adopted their fathers' strategy and were content in the knowledge they would be told when they were ready.

Cody made a few calls, got the Twins released from school, gathered a few things and they headed west with them on Thursday morning. But they would not tell the Twins where they were headed. More mysteries.

The Twins didn't catch on until they drove into the main gate at Paloma.

"So, this is where you were!"

Michael, Jonathan and Don Alfredo greeted them all warmly. Paulie and Toby were strangely absent. They were busy with another project. Also happy to see his two friends was Toussant, now a gangly young teen.

Watching the gorgeous sunset over the mountains from their cottage after dinner, Cody told them the full story.

The Twins were speechless.

Finally, Donnie said, "Dad, you took some real risks, didn't you. I mean, some of what you and the others did was illegal, wasn't it?"

"Well, you'll meet Garret and Tristan in the morning. Then you can tell us if it was worth the risk."

"If you and Gramps and Grammie thought it was right, then it was," added Ronnie. "You told us one time that sometimes you have to do what's right regardless of the cost."

Their lovemaking was especially tender that night.

One look at Tristan the next morning and he and the Twins were instant friends. Garret and Robert were pleased to see Cody and Lucas again and welcomed the Twins with hugs.

Paulie and Toby were there as well and Toby made a special effort show his appreciation for their concern. "I feel maybe I have repaid my debt to Da and Ian," he confided to Lucas.

"Many times over, I suspect," replied Lucas, an opinion Paulie seconded.

The Twins pitched in to help with Tristan's – and Garret's – therapy and still found time to be with their friend Toussant and greet the Acoma people as well.

Later that day, the message vacating the sentences of Robert, Garret and Tristan was received. They were pleased to be exonerated and it would make further treatment for Tristan much easier.

"I'm very happy for you," said Michael, looking wistful. "Now you can go home again."

"But I think we are home," answered Robert. "I can't think of any place I could wish to live for myself and my sons. As a free person, perhaps I can help with some things that could take part of the load off you and Paulie. May we stay, Michael?"

"Of course. You will always be part of our family."

At age fifteen, the Community already considered Garret an adult. He would one day be Tristan's Spirit Guide.

It was a busy weekend and, more importantly, the Davidson link of trust was fully restored once more.

On the way home, Donnie asked, "Dad, do you think Tristan will recover from his awful torture?"

"Well", replied Lucas, "he'll have the best medical care we can provide. We would have seen to that even if he were still a slave. At Paloma, it makes no difference what he is; he's 'family'. And the Acoma will help to nurture him. Your people are some of the most amazing I have ever seen."

"I have hope that he will heal physically. But whether he will ever heal emotionally is questionable. He'll need all the love Robert and Garret can give him. And Garret needs serious love to heal, too. I suspect both of them will have nightmares for a long, long time."

"Dad," announced Donnie, "I'm not afraid anymore! I mean about slavery."

"Me neither," added Ronnie.

"It's not important whether a person is slave or free", continued Ronnie, "so long as they have family. That's what you were trying to tell us at the seminar. It didn't matter that you were Cody's slave. He was your big brother and you were a person who had a family. Just like we do."

"And once I accepted that," admitted Lucas, "I was free in every way, no matter what my papers said. The Acoma are freer than you or I can imagine. And the Weathers' are fortunate to be part of that family. It's just a shame they had to endure so much pain to get there."

"Thanks, Dads, for taking us to Paloma. And thanks for not spoiling it by telling us about Tristan before we could meet him. He's a neat kid, and so is Garret; both of them so brave, I can't imagine it."

Cody and Lucas both were nearly overcome by the love and trust of their sons and the journey continued in great spirits.

When they arrived back home late Sunday evening, a letter was waiting for them.

NEXT PART