Maiocxx

Tales from the World of Cody and Lucas
I The Lives of Owen and Bobby

2
Little Boys Condemned

PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS

Chapter 1
North America

"Ken, whatever are you talking about?" asked the Manager.

"Did you agree to accept three condemned criminals for use in our testing program?"

"Well, yes. That's not unusual. What's the problem?"

"John, come with me." And he dragged his boss out from behind his desk, out of the office, down the hall and into the receiving area for new slave test subjects. A typical transport cage stood in the middle of the room. He beckoned his boss over to it.

John peered down into it and jumped back aghast. "They're kids!" he choked.

"Oh, you noticed that?" snarled Ken, sarcastically.

They both were dumfounded at what they had seen. There were two boys about ten or eleven… obviously twins… and a much younger one, perhaps six. They stumbled back to the manager's office and collapsed into chairs. "What are we going to do with them," asked Ken.

"I suppose we'll have to use them," replied his boss.

"NO! Absolutely not. I will not use children as test subjects!" declared Ken.

"Well then, we'll have to put them down."

"Fine! You can do the honors! I'll prepare the needles and you can kill the little one first."

"Ok! Ok! Calm down!" counseled the manager. He knew there was no way either he or his subordinate could coldbloodedly kill a young child, no matter what his crime was. "I'll try to get through to the Justice Ministry in London and find out what this is all about. Why don't you go see what you can find out from their papers."

Ken stomped out of this boss's office without replying.

John sat with his head in his hands for a few moments. Yes, GAF Pharmaceuticals used humans for testing their new products, as did all the other drug companies. And yes, some of them died. And, some of them were injured so badly they had to be put down. But they were always criminals sentenced to long terms or condemned to hang… and they would have died anyway… and they had volunteered. It was highly unlikely these kids had volunteered for anything.

It was a few minutes before he could reach London. The conversation with the Justice Minister was anything by amicable. He slammed the phone down in anger. He had no moral qualms about using condemned adults for testing, but little kids? No way! What he had been told had angered and sickened him. He sat there, trying to regain his composure as his assistant once more entered.

"The kids are six and eleven and were sentenced to hang for the torture and murder of a little girl." said Ken without preamble. "I have the guards bringing them around and told them to put them together in one of the receiving cells. What did you find out?"

"Do you know what that snake in London told me?" replied John. "They were responsible for the torture death of a six-year-old girl. Her father was an MP and mounted a vicious campaign in the press and they were almost lynched. Their parents abandoned them and haven't been found since they were arrested. No barrister would touch their case, so they were found guilty and condemned. But, when it came time to do the deed, they could find no one who was willing to hang little kids. So, they decided to dump them on us!"

"I don't know what we're going to do," he continued remorsefully. "I agree we can't use them for testing and I just can't stomach the idea of putting them down. I just don't know. We'll have to think of something."

"I'm sorry I shouted at you earlier," admitted Ken. "I was just so upset."

Both of them sat deep in though for several minutes.

Finally, Ken rose, sighed and said, "I'd better go see what's happening." And he left the office and returned to the receiving area.

"Good! I'm glad you're back," the sergeant greeted him. "We put the three of them together, just as you said. But as soon as we released them, the two older ones started to beat up the little guy. So I put him in a cell alone at the other end of the block."

"The two older ones started to scream curses… some of the words were even new to me… and threw the food bowls at the guards when we tried to feed them. One of the guards had to hold each boy under the shower and he fought like a demon. So, finally we sedated them."

"Well, I guess they're frightened out of their minds," observed Ken.

"Nah! It's more like they're on 'uppers'," replied the sergeant.

"Well. that's interesting. What about the little one."

"He's hiding under his bunk and hasn't touched his food. He is so frightened, it's pathetic."

"You say he's in the last cell? Let me see if I can talk to him. Pass me in," directed Ken.

The cell door clicked behind him and Ken could see the little boy, crouched under the bunk, frightened blue eyes staring out at him.

"Your papers say your name is Bobby. Is that right?"

There was no reply.

"How about coming out here so we can talk?"

Still no response.

"Please, Bobby. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Yes you are!" came the pitiful wail. "You're going to hang me. Put a rope around my neck and pull me up so I can't breath. Only you won't stop like my brothers did."

That comment puzzled Ken. Did his brothers try to hang him? He decided to take a big risk. "Bobby, I promise you that no one is going to hang you. And, no one is going to hurt you, either." By, God, he would find some way to keep that promise.

Bobby crawled out from under the bunk and crouched in the far corner of the cell.

"You haven't eaten your food."

"No! Poison!" came the reply.

Truthfully, the slave gruel didn't look terribly appetizing. "Sergeant," Ken called.

"Yes, sir."

"Please go down to the staff mess and get a bowl of that stew we had today. And bring a spoon."

"Ok, sir." The sergeant was back in a few minutes and shoved the bowl through the feeding slot in the door. Ken placed it halfway between himself and the boy and sat down on the bunk.

The smell of the warm stew wafted through the cell. "It's ok," said Ken. "Here, I'll eat some to prove it." And he took a big spoonful. "It's pretty good!"

Bobby sprang out, snatched up the bowl and retreated to his corner. He tasted a spoonful. And then proceeded to practically inhale the contents of the bowl.

"Would you like some more?" The boy hesitated a moment and then nodded.

"Sergeant."

"I'm on my way sir. How about some of that nice warm bread to go with it?"

Ken looked a Bobby and the child nodded again.

This time, when the food arrived, he took the bowl from Ken's hand and sat on the other end of the bunk to eat it.

When he was finished, he handed the bowl back to Ken, but did not move off the bunk.

"You like ice-cream?" Ken asked.

The little boy's eyes grew big. "Yes," he whispered.

"Chocolate?" asked Ken.

Bobby gasped. "Can I have chocolate syrup and peanuts?" he asked plaintively.

"One chocolate-peanut sundae, coming up," laughed the sergeant, dashing off on another food run.

Bobby moved closer to Ken as he downed his dessert. Almost all the other grownups had lied to him and hurt him, but maybe this man was different. He had given him chocolate ice-cream, with chocolate syrup and peanuts! Even whipped cream and a cherry on top! Maybe he could trust this man!

Ken slid over to Bobby and put his arm around his shoulder.

At first, Bobby shook with fright, but he didn't pull away. Could he! Dare he?

And then the dam broke.

He flung himself into Ken's outstretched arms and cried and cried. Ken tried to comfort him and whispered to him, "Cry all you want, little one. No one is going to punish you or hurt you. I promise you with all my heart."

After about ten minutes, Bobby settled into just sniffles.

"Can you be brave and tell me what happened? Your brothers are not going to hurt you, I promise."

Bobby lay in Ken's arms for a few minutes more and then sat up and began.

The little girl had screamed until she had no voice left. She had cried until she had no more tears. But still they kept hurting her! Why? Bobby was her friend. They were in the same class! These were his older brothers.

She was naked… they had torn the clothes off her… and was tied spread eagle on a bed. They had burned her boobs with matches and stuck their things up her pussy… that was what they called her private place… and then squirted some kind of sticky goo all over her, stuff that came out of their things. Bobby had watched, but did not help them.

"Come on, pansy," yelled Jimmy to Bobby, "get your clothes off. Or we'll tie you up and work you over." Frightened, Bobby complied.

Jack looped a rope around the little girl's neck and pulled it tight, causing her to gasp for breath. Her mouth opened convulsively and Jack pointed to it. "Sit on her chest and fuck her mouth." he instructed Bobby. He didn't want to, but was far too frightened of his brothers to refuse.

He inched forward and plunged his little dick in, not realizing Jack was choking the life out of her.

She struggled for a while and, at last lay still, with her eyes closed.

"Why isn't she sucking him?" asked Jimmy. "Oh fuck! She's dead!"

The rope had been too tight.

At that moment, footsteps pounded on the porch and the door was flung open as the two older boys made a dive for the stairs to the upper story. Bobby, frozen to the spot, sat there with his little prick buried in the dead girl's mouth.

The first person into the room was the little girl's father, followed by several policemen. He took one look at Bobby and belted him across his head so hard that the boy landed across the room, unconscious. He then proceeded to cut the bonds from his daughter, picked up her lifeless body and staggered outside. The cops. in the meantime, had corralled the two older boys who screamed and fought like demons. They, along with their unconscious brother, were thrown into the back of the police van and hauled off to jail.

"I didn't want to do those things to her," the little boy sobbed. "She was my friend! But they made me bring her to the old house. And they hurt her and made me hurt her, too. I wouldn't do it at first, but they put a rope around my neck and pulled me up till I couldn't breathe. They let me down again if I promised to do what they said."

Ken tilted the boy's head back and he could see the rope marks on his throat.

"They made me take off all my clothes and told me to put my wee-wee in her mouth. I said, 'No!', so Jimmy grabbed me and held me while Jack started to cut off my wee-wee."

Looking closely, Ken could see the cut at the base of the child's penis. "What kind of monsters were these kids?" he asked himself.

"So I did what they told me. And she died. THEY SAID I KILLED HER!" he shrieked, crying hysterically.

After a while, he calmed down enough to finish his tale of horrors. "The man at the jail said I wouldn't be punished if I told what happened. I did tell them! I did! I did! But he lied! They punished me anyway! And you're going to hang me and my brothers!" he wailed as he pulled away from Ken's embrace..

"Bobby," Ken soothed the terrified little boy, "I promise you no one is going to hang you or your brothers." He decided to take another risk. "I'm going to work very hard to keep you from being punished. And to see what can be done about your brothers, too. Now try to get some sleep. The guards will bring you some food tomorrow and it will not be poison. I will come visit you again tomorrow, too."

Bobby looked up at Ken. He wanted so badly to trust this man. But, he was too frightened to trust anybody. But the man had given him chocolate ice-cream!

On the way out, Ken told the sergeant, "Please go down to the crew quarters and get a decent mattress and some blankets and a pillow for the little guy. And I want him to have regular meals, too, not the slave gruel. I don't know how much of his story you heard, but I am going to save this little boy if it is the last thing I ever do." He sighed. "I guess we'll just keep the other two sedated until we decide what to do with them. I want Hank Greenberg to do a complete physical on both of them. There has got to be a reason why they are so psychotic."

"Right, sir." replied the sergeant. "We'll have to feed them with stomach tubes. And I'll make sure the other shift sergeants know about the little guy, too."

Ken thanked him and stumbled back to his boss's office.

Still in shock, he slumped into a chair across from John. "If what the little guy told me is true… and I have no reason to doubt it… and it matches perfectly with what you found out… what we have is an enormous miscarriage of justice. They have sentenced a six-year-old to hang for crimes he never committed or was forced into. That he was sent to us is a miracle! We've been given a task and I'm not going fail him. We've got to have the conviction reversed."

"And how do we do that?" asked an equally upset John.

"I don't know. But, by God, I'm not going to stop until I do."

"Ken, I can't afford to have you running off on what may be a fools errand. I need you to manage our testing program."

"Fine! Then I quit!" he told John.

"OK, OK, don't get pissed off at me!" replied his boss. "I'm sorry. Of course I want you to see what can be done. If you can keep the program running…"

"I'll give it my best shot. But Bobby Sand is my top priority."

"Fair enough," replied John.

That evening at home, he told his wife what had happened.

"Dear, that is absolutely horrible," Gwen told him. "What can I do to help?"

"I don't know just yet," he replied. "I'm not even sure where to start."

Ken visited Bobby the next several days and each day he found the little boy sinking more and more into despair. His food was often untouched and even chocolate ice-cream wasn't rousing him. He just sat on his bunk staring straight ahead, even ignoring the children's books one of the guards had brought him. Their conversations became shorter and shorter as the prison cell exacted its toll on the child.

One night, he and Gwen had a serious discussion after their son, Peter, was asleep. "We've got to get him out of there or we're going to loose him," he confided.

"Ken, could we bring him here?" asked his wife.

Ken was astounded, he had been just about to ask the same question.

"From what you've said, he isn't dangerous. And we'd have him under supervision at all times. Do you think John would allow it?"

"Oh, Gwen, I love you so! Somehow, I'll make it happen." Then he turned thoughtful. "But it's not our decision alone. Peter! I guess, in the final analysis, it's his decision. He'll be the one most affected by it. All of a sudden, he'll have that little brother he keeps asking for." They had tried for years to have another child, without success.

"He might not know it, but he will be the key person if this child is ever to be whole again. He's the one with whom the child will bond."

"You're right! It's Peter's call. What a heavy burden to put on a ten-year-old!"

The next morning, he explained his idea to John.

"You want to do WHAT?" was his retort.

"I want to take him home to live with us. If we have any hope of ever seeing this child whole again, we've got to get him out of this environment. He's sinking every day."

"The authorities would never allow such a thing."

"But they will, if it is a testing protocol. I'll get Hank to write one to require testing in a home environment."

"Hank Greenberg is going to do that? Our Hank Greenberg?"

"John, he's seen Bobby and the other two and he broke down and cried."

"I didn't think our Hank had any sympathy in him."

"Well, the Lord does work in sometimes strange ways," replied Ken.

"Go ahead… as if I could stop you," said John. "Just make sure your family is not in any danger, especially Peter. What does he think of all this?"

"I haven't told him yet. I will tonight and the final decision will be his."

Later that afternoon, he took Gwen to visit Bobby.

"This is my wife, Bobby. Her name is Gwen," he told the child. "She wanted to come and see you to see if she could help you. She's a nurse and wants to be sure there isn't anything wrong with you that needs to be treated."

The old terror crept back into Bobby's eyes.

"Hello, Bobby," Gwen greeted him. "I have something for you." And she presented him with her gift… a chocolate peanut sundae with whipped cream and a cherry on top. That broke the ice and Ken withdrew to allow Gwen to talk to Bobby privately.

Gwen gave him a thorough examination and even accepted a spoonful of the sundae that Bobby offered her. The two of them talked for quite some time.

On the way home she told her husband, "He's a delightful little boy, but so full of terror and sadness. How a court could possibly have thought he was capable of murder. I saw the abrasion on his neck and it seems to be healing well, but I'll bet it hurts. I don't like the looks of that cut at the base of his penis, though. That needs some attention."

"He just clung to me and told me about how his brothers would hurt him… just for fun. They really almost did hang him until he passed out. And, if the knife had been sharper, he would be a eunuch… if he hadn't bled to death first! Such cruelty! Are you going to be able to get his conviction reversed?"

"I don't know, Gwen. But I am going to try every way I can."

"Well, I agree he needs to have a home, even if only temporarily. I know you try to be humane, but a jail cell is no place for a six-year-old. I just hope you can find out what is wrong with his brothers."

"Have had no luck at all on that score. Every time we bring them around, they erupt into screaming, fighting fits. And they're getting worse."

"How sad! But perhaps we can save one of them, anyway. When are you going to talk to Peter?"

"After supper tonight."

That evening, after supper, Ken took his son out for a walk. It was a warm, early fall night and when they got to the park, he motioned for Peter to sit with him in the deserted picnic pavilion. Peter was a bit wary; when his dad took him for a walk like this it was because he had something very important, and usually sad, to tell him… like the time Grandma died. Or when Mom lost the baby that would have been his longed-for little brother.

"What do you know about what my company makes?" he asked his son.

"Well, medicine to help people get well when they're sick and stuff to make them feel better when they're hurt," answered Peter.

"And what's my job at the plant?"

"You have to make sure the stuff works and doesn't hurt anyone."

"And how do I do that?"

"You try it out on people… people who have done bad things and are being punished. And sometimes they die, if the stuff isn't right, don't they?"

Ken didn't think Peter knew about that. "Yes, I'm sorry, but they do. And sometimes a bad drug hurts them so much we have to put them down. Just like Tommy had to with his puppy when she got so sick."

Peter knew his dad was struggling to tell him something… something that was bothering him very much. But, what could it be?

"The people we use for testing new drugs are all convicted killers who have been sent to us by the court."

Peter nodded.

"Last week, the court in England sent me three young boys."

The shock on Peter's face was palpable. "Kids! What did they do?"

"The two older ones… they're eleven… have a sickness in their minds which makes them do terrible things. They hurt and killed a lovely six-year-old girl."

"That's awful! But they're kids! Are you going to use them for testing, and maybe hurt or kill them?" Peter asked sadly.

"No! We're going to try to cure their sickness, if we can. But Uncle John and I will not use them for testing."

"Gosh!"

"But it's the little one, I'm concerned about. His name is Bobby and he's four years younger than you, Peter, six-years-old! And the terrible thing is that he was convicted of the same crime his older brothers did, even though he didn't do it. The court made a terrible, terrible mistake! And they sentenced him to hang!"

Peter stared at his dad. "What's going to happen to him?" he asked, starting to tear up.

"Uncle John and I are going to do everything we can to get the court to admit their mistake. It's going to take a long time, but we're not going to give up. Ever!"

"But while we're working on it, little Bobby sits in his jail cell, day-after-day, lonely, sad and so frightened. He is afraid someone is going to sneak in, put a rope around his neck and hang him. Just like his brothers almost did."

The tears were rolling down Peter's cheeks by this time. "Dad! We've got to help him! We can't just let him be punished for something he didn't do!"

"I know, son. That's why I wanted to talk to you. It's going to take a long time for the court to be willing to act. And, in the meantime, he gets sadder and more frightened every day. Your mother and I…"

"Dad!" exclaimed Peter, "why don't we bring him home to live with us. Mom and I can take care of him and help him get better. He could be my 'little brother' Oh Dad! Please! Please!"

For the second day in a row, Ken had been upstaged by a member of his own family!

"That's a wonderful idea, Peter. Mom and I are ready if you are."

"What do you mean, Dad?"

"Bobby needs a lot of care and understanding and just plain love. It's not going to be easy! A lot of it will have to come from you. Yes, you'll be his 'big brother' and helping him recover from this terrible nightmare is going to take a lot of your time."

"That's OK, Dad. I'll be with him every day after school and on weekends, if that's what he needs. I'll even quit football! I can play football another year. But, Bobby needs me! Now! And I want to help him any way I can."

"Well, Tommy won't be able to come over to play after school and you won't have much time to play with him at all."

Peter thought about that for a minute or two. "That's OK, Dad. I'll see him in school. He'll understand."

"That's going to be the hardest part. You can't tell anyone about him. At least not at first. If the police found out about him, they might take him away. And hang him, for sure."

"Are we breaking the law?"

"Let's say we're stretching it a little."

"Like when you drive faster than the speed limit?"

"You might say that," Ken replied embarrassed. "Nothing much gets by this kid," he thought ruefully.

"Dad, Pastor Wilson says we have to do what is right! No matter what! Helping Bobby is right, isn't it?"

Ken nodded.

"Then I want to do what is right and help Bobby. He should live at our house and maybe he can be a kid again."

Ken's heart swelled at his son's outpouring. This was a little boy, ten-years-old? No way!

"How soon can he come?"

"Tomorrow! I want you to come and meet him, first. If you feel you can do this, you can invite him. He trusts me to a point, but he has to trust you completely for this to work."

Peter didn't sleep much that night. "A little brother! A hurting little brother! One who needs me to show him what our family is all about. To love him and care for him!"

It made Peter feel very grown up.

By the time Ken and his son arrived at the plant the next morning, some of Peter's elation had turned to fright. "Could he really do this? Would he say the right things? Would he do the right things to help poor Bobby?"

But, Peter was a resourceful lad and he screwed up his courage and walked into Bobby's cell with his dad. "Hi, Bobby. I've brought you someone else to meet. This is my son, Peter."

Bobby, sitting on his bunk, looked warily at the boy standing before him.

"Hello, Bobby. Dad told me about you and how badly you were treated. I'd like to help you be a kid again."

"But, I'm a BAD PERSON!" wailed Bobby. "The court said I did terrible things to a little girl! She was my friend and I killed her!"

"You're not a bad person!" replied Peter. "You're a kid, just like me! Only you're sad and frightened and you don't have someone to take care of you. Dad and Uncle John are going to have the court change its decision. You are not a criminal!"

Bobby put his head down on his knees and began to cry in earnest. Could he trust these people who say they want to help him? Could he trust this boy who wants to love and care for him?

Peter walked over to him and put his hand on Bobby's shoulder. "Would you like to come and stay with us? You can be my little brother and we can live and have fun together."

Bobby, shocked, glanced up at Ken, who nodded. Peter held out his hands and Bobby threw himself into Peter's arms and cried and cried. Anyone watching could have seen the instant bond between them. "I guess that means 'yes', Dad," said a tearful Peter.

After a while Bobby had recovered enough to leave. Since he would have to be handcuffed and shackled, Ken had brought the necessary implements with him. Bobby held out his arms and Peter snapped the cuffs on his wrists and fastened the connecting chain to the heavy leather belt that he fastened and locked around the little boy's waist. Ken could find no shackles small enough to fit, Bobby, so he ended up putting another pair of handcuffs around his ankles, making it almost impossible for the little boy to walk.

So, wrapping the naked child in a blanket, Ken carried him to their car for the trip home. Peter held him tight and Bobby snuggled down in his arms. It had been a long time since he felt this good!

Gwen was waiting at the door when they arrived. This was the chocolate-ice-cream lady who had held him and cuddled him like his mother did before she got sick. He was to call her 'Miss Gwen' and call Ken 'Sir'!

"But what should he call Peter? Was he Peter Sir?"

"No, just Peter," explained Ken.

The cuffs and shackles were removed immediately, and Peter led his new friend/charge off to the shower. Stripping, he hopped in next to Bobby. When Ken checked on them a few minutes later, Bobby was standing with his head tilted up and a dreamy look on his face as Peter scrubbed away, removing the last traces of prison dirt and smell.

When they didn't appear shortly, Ken found them in Peter's room. He had dried the little boy and wrapped a warm, fluffy towel around the two of them as Bobby clung to him and sobbed. "He'll be OK, Dad," Peter told his father. "It's just been too much all at once."

Bobby was nervous all through dinner. He had mostly forgotten how to sit at table and eat a meal. But he committed no real blunders. Gwen, however, had to limit his intake of roast chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy a bit lest he make himself sick.

They sat there while Ken explained Bobby's rules. He would have to be naked at all times in the house and he could not go outside. He was to help Gwen around the house and he must obey her and Peter without question. And, of course, he was to obey Ken without hesitation. To Bobby, they didn't seem like such bad rules. And it sure beat sitting in that gloomy jail cell.

Gwen explained that he would always eat meals with the family. No more slave gruel. And maybe a chocolate peanut sundae with whipped cream and a cherry on top if he was especially good. She also told him she would begin teaching him school again. That got his attention; he had always liked school, but wondered how it would be with no other children about.

After supper, Ken showed Bobby his room right next to Peter's. Even though they had never had a slave, the house had been constructed to accommodate one, with a small, secure room right next to one of the bedrooms. They had used it as a storage room.

Gwen had tried her best to make it cheerful, with some bright blankets and pillows on the single bed and colorful curtains. But, with the bars on the small window and the heavy metal door, it was still a prison cell.

"The law says you must be secured at all times," Ken tried to explain. "During the day, there will always be someone watching you. But, at night, we will have to lock you into this room. Peter will be right in the next room if you need something.

"Will you chain me to the bed? That's what my mom did if she didn't feel good." he asked.

"Bobby, you will never wear chains in this house," Ken replied, his voice breaking with emotion.

And Bobby… slowly and with great effort on everyone's part… began to accept his new 'family' and even return their love. He soon was helping Gwen with meals, laundry and other household chores. The vacuum fascinated him; she had to limit his use of it to prevent undue wear on their carpets.

She had secured school supplies from a friend and soon discovered that Bobby was quite bright. While she concentrated on his reading and math skills, she found time for literature and writing as well.

For the first time in years, he smiled. And, when he did, the whole room lit up. As he began to grow and put a little weight on his skinny frame, he really did look like an angel. Or, at least a somewhat thin cherub.

Once Bobby's nakedness around the house became the norm, Peter decided he would go 'commando' too. Neither parent objected and Gwen reveled in the sight of them… their perfect young bodies. She knew that it wouldn't be long before innocence ended and Peter would not be able to be 'just as God had made him'. On many evenings, Ken sat with two naked boys in his lap, reading to them from the classic stories he had heard from his father when he and his brothers were their age.

The sleeping arrangements, however, were the one blot on their existence.

Peter went to his father one evening, "Why does Bobby have to sleep all alone in that dark room? Why can't he have a bed in my room? I've got lots of space."

"He has to be secured at night," answered his father, "and you room isn't secure."

"But Dad! He's so frightened and lonely. I can hear him crying every night. Don't you trust him?"

"Yes, I trust him, but we have to follow the law. You know, he's very fortunate to be here."

"Well, then, I'm going to sleep in his room," retorted Peter defiantly.

Ken was about to chastise his son for being impertinent, but he suddenly thought, "He's really taking this seriously. He's so grown up! I want to see Bobby recover and I'm thrilled that Peter is so important to him. I'm not going to say he can't help Bobby if he needs him."

"All right, son. We'll have to see what we need to do to make that happen." And he hugged Peter extra hard.

The next morning, they moved a second bed into Bobby's cell. At noon, Ken came home with an electronic 'anklet' for Bobby to wear. He explained to both boys, "If something should go wrong… I don't for the life of me think it will… the anklet will give you a paralyzing shock. I can trigger it with this controller. I'm not going to demonstrate it; just take my word for it."

"Peter will have a 'safe word' that will trigger it too. I'm really sorry we have to do this, Bobby. It's not that we don't trust you." Ken realized how fragile the little boy's trust was and this did not enhance it.

"I understand, Sir," said Bobby. "It will be nice to have company at night."

The safe word was 'Beckham', the name of the foremost player on the Manchester United team.

"Thank you, Dad," whispered Peter, as his father fastened the anklet and closed and locked the door on them. They would be all alone until morning. The toilet facilities were primitive, but that was the least of their worries.

The new arrangement worked well. Each morning, they emerged arm-in-arm, naked and ready for their showers. And Bobby was much less tense and able to enter more fully into limited family life.

But, disaster stalked them.

One evening, just as Ken and Gwen settled into their bed, the alarm went off.

Ken made a flying leap, dashed to the cell and opened it to find Peter struggling to hold a wildly thrashing little boy who was in obvious agony. Quickly disarming the device, he listened to Peter's account of what had gone wrong.

"Bobby wanted to talk about football tonight. I tried to change the subject, but he was set on talking about the Manchester United team. I even put my hand over his mouth, but he thought I was teasing him and he managed to say the name. He triggered it himself. He didn't do anything wrong. He didn't try to hurt me. You've got to believe me!" he wailed.

"I do, son! I do."

Bobby lay on this bed, quaking with fright, wondering how he was going to be punished. "Would Ken, Sir, take him back to the prison?"

Gwen picked up the little boy and carried him to her bed. Taking her cue, Ken followed with Peter and they spent the rest of the night with their parents.

Morning came all too soon. "This is not going to work," asserted Ken as he removed the anklet, tossing it in the trash. Having been triggered, it was useless.

"You're right, dear. Why don't we stop this nonsense? He's not a danger to us. He's certainly not going to run away. It's time we showed him that we trust him if we expect him to trust us."

"You're right dear," replied her husband as he took both boys into his arms. "We'll not lock the room any more."

"Why don't we come full circle?" asked Gwen. "Why don't we move him into Peter's room. His desk is there. His study things are there. It's where they play. There's plenty of room for his bed. I saw a cute pair of twin beds just last week at the Bargain Mart."

"Let's do it," replied Ken as Peter looked up at him with shining eyes. "In fact, let's redo the entire room for the two of them."

Bobby just looked back and forth between them in wide-eyed amazement.

The new arrangement was wonderful. And it was only a few nights before the two of them discovered the joy of sleeping together… Peter with Bobby's little warm body spooned up against him. He would soon abandon pajamas for the exotic feel of his bare skin against his partner's equally naked skin.

There was no progress toward figuring out what ailed the twins, however. They were as violent as ever; in fact, they were getting worse every day. The only way they could control them at all was to keep them heavily sedated.

John checked on them every day, but finally told Ken, "I'll give it another month. But then, we'll have to put them down."

Ken knew how much is boss regretted the whole idea, but he had to agree sadly. Bobby asked about his brothers from time to time, and it hurt Ken to have to tell him they had made no progress.

Although she no longer practiced her profession regularly, Gwen did try to keep up, reading all the readily available medical journals. One night, long after she and Ken had gone to sleep, she sat bolt upright in her bed and shouted, "THALIDOMIDE!"

Ken was awake instantly and embraced her, inquiring, "What is it Gwen? What's wrong?"

"Ken, the twins! They're thalidomide kids! The Lancet had an article in the latest issue and it described them perfectly. That's what's wrong with them."

Author's Note: In our world, thalidomide was a new sedative drug often given to pregnant women in the early 70's. Until it was discovered that it caused bizarre physical defects in the unborn child. In the world of Cody and Lucas, it did that and more. It often caused severe psychotic defects, that manifested themselves in a number of ways.

Ken sat there stunned. "I doubt that Hank even thought about that. I'll call him first thing." But he didn't sleep much the rest of the night. Could that be the cause of their problems? And could they cure them?

Shortly before lunch the next day, Hank called him. "Tell Gwen she hit the nail right on the head. I could kick myself bloody for not thinking of it sooner. They each have enough of the toxin in them to drive a heard of elephants crazy." While that was good news… of a sort… what followed at a meeting that afternoon was not.

"From all the literature I've been able to peruse, theirs is one of the common psychoses caused by this nefarious drug. The presence of it triggers early puberty onset. You have to admit, they are much more developed than typical a eleven-year-old. What begins as abnormal testicular cells, spreads throughout the body like a cancer, so even surgical castration does not cure the problem. Each new clump begins pouring more toxin into the body until some major organ is overwhelmed and collapses. The brain is stimulated, causing great pain to the victim as well as paranoia, severe aggression and other antisocial behavior. The victim becomes a drug driven sociopath. I did scans on the kids and their bodies are just full of this stuff."

"Is there any chance that Bobby is infected?" asked Ken with his heart in his mouth.

"I don't think so, but I'd better check him out. Either his mother wasn't taking the drug when she carried him… it might have been off the market by then… or he was very, very lucky."

"Can we treat them?" asked John. "Or are they too far gone?"

"Yes, we can treat them, but there is only one sure method for ridding the body of this scourge."

"Castrex!" said John.

"Correct!" answered the doctor.

"But we've stopped using that because it causes such great pain and the patient often dies."

"That's right, but what choice do we have? We can listen to them scream for the next few months and wait until the stuff kills them. Sedation will soon not be effective. Or, we can put them down now. Or we can try this, even though it will probably kill them. At least they will be out of pain."

"I think we should put them down, now, before…" said John.

"I disagree," interrupted Ken. "If there's even a slim chance they can be saved, I want to take that chance. For Bobby. He doesn't say much about them, but I know he is terribly sad about his brothers. Maybe we'll learn something from all of this."

The meeting broke up and Ken went home to tell his family what they decided to do. Taking both Bobby and Peter into his lap, he told them about the twins' illness. "There's a good chance they might die. But, if it works, they could be normal boys again."

"What will you do with them if it works?" asked perceptive Peter.

"I don't know," said his dad. "We'll have to think about that later."

"Will you use them for testing?" asked Bobby.

"No, Bobby. What they are going to go through is much more horrible than any drug test."

Gwen took a few vials of blood from Bobby and sent them along with Ken the next day. They were in luck! Bobby tested negative.

It took Hank several days to compound the Castrex they would need; it had been off the market for several years. Even though it was not their company's product, the formula was freely available, and several companies were trying to make it more tolerable.

Several mornings later, Hank summoned both John and Ken to the slave area. "It's ready," he reported. "We might as well do it today. Neither they or the drug will improve with age. I had to give them 60 units to keep them quiet last night."

John and Ken both nodded their approval and Hank and his tech began securing the two boys to treatment tables and fitting them with blood pressure and heart action monitors and shunts for delivering drugs. When they were finished, Hank directed the tech, "OK! Bring them up." The tech gave each boy a dose of a drug designed to counter the sedatives they had been given.

The boys snapped out of their drug-induced torpor almost immediately. They began to struggle furiously with their bonds and to scream threats and obscenities.

"We've never used Castrex on a kid before so I had no idea what quantity to use," Hank explained to John and Ken. "They're pretty well developed, so I guessed at three-quarters of the adult dose. Who knows."

Turning to the tech, he said, "Do it." The tech grabbed each boy's balls and plunged a needle of Castrex into them.

The threats and obscenities immediately turned to shrieks of pain as the drug began scouring their bodies, destroying the living, but deadly tissue. Their bonds were stretched to the limit time and again as they writhed on their tables. The shrieks gradually faded into mewing moans as their vocal cords gave out. But they continued thrashing for more than an hour, as the four adults watched with horror.

Suddenly, the tech reported, "We're starting to lose them, sir." And it was plain their blood pressure was dropping precipitously and their heart rates became irregular and weak. Sounds from them stopped and blood pressure and heart rate continued to fall.

In about five minutes, the lines on the monitors became flat.

"They're gone!" announced Hank, tears streaming down his cheeks. Both John and Ken were engulfed by a wave of sorrow. They started to leave, Ken wrestling with how he was going to tell Gwen, Peter and Bobby.

They hadn't made it to the door, when the tech suddenly shouted, "Wait! Something's happening." Turning back they rushed to the tables and stood transfixed as they watched the lines on the monitors begin an upward trace. Within ten minutes, their blood pressure and heart rates were normal!

"I don't understand this at all," gasped Hank.

"It's like their bodies just rebooted, like a computer!" said Ken.

"They died and came back to life!" said the tech in awe.

His long training and experience finally kicking in, Hank took charge. "I don't want to even guess what they may be like when they come to. Or even if they will regain consciousness. We'll have to wait and see." But he did not loosen the boys' bonds. Not yet.

Hank spent most of they day with the twins, waiting anxiously for any sign. Finally, about mid afternoon, his patience was rewarded.

Jimmy was the first to stir. "Where am I?" he moaned, his voice very horse. "Why am I tied up?" But then he remembered… every hate-filled moment of his existence came flooding back into his memory. But he felt different. Instead of hate, there was calm. Instead of aggression, there was only sorrow. Sorrow for a great many things. But especially sorrow for a little girl and a younger brother and shame for the way he had treated them.

Jack soon followed his brother into consciousness with similar feeling of sadness and shame overwhelming him.

Both of them lay there and cried for their former life and the evil they had done. It was not yet time to fear what the future might bring to them. They knew of their sentence of death by hanging, but that didn't seem to terrify them. They had done unspeakable harm to both the little girl and, more importantly, to Bobby. If death was to be their lot, that was preferable to the living nightmare that had been theirs for so many years.

They opened their eyes and saw a man in medical scrubs looking down on them. "Can you hear me?" asked Dr. Greenberg. They both nodded yes. "Do you know where you are?" Again they nodded yes. "Why are you here?"

"We did a very bad thing to a little girl and she died," answered Jack.

"And we were sentenced to death and were sent here instead," added Jimmy.

"Incredible!" thought Hank. "They seem and act just like normal kids. I can't believe what I'm seeing and hearing!" He picked up the phone and called Ken to join him.

Ken looked down at the still tightly secured boys as they stared up at him with strangely calm eyes, so different than ones filled with hatred and aggression,

"Please sir," asked Jimmy, "where is our brother Bobby? Is he all right?"

"Why do you ask?" asked Ken.

"Because he is innocent!" cried Jack. "We forced him to do those awful things. He didn't kill the little girl, I did." Bursting into tears, Jimmy added, "And he's being punished the same. And it's wrong!" he sobbed.

Deciding to take a risk, Ken answered, "Bobby is OK. He is living with my family. We're trying to get the court to admit they were wrong and free him."

"Oh, please, please! He shouldn't be punished! We hurt him and made him do bad things to the little girl! We're ashamed! He is our brother! Please, Sir, please save him!" they alternated as twins often do.

Ken was stunned by the twins' statement. He had hoped the Castrex treatment might bring some improvement, but this was completely unbelievable! They actually behaved like normal kids. Well, not quite. What normal kid wakes up from a nightmare, finds himself tightly strapped to a table and is not frightened out of his mind.

"Sir," Jimmy asked Dr. Greenberg, "why do I feel so different? I used to feel nothing but hate. I wanted to hurt and kill everyone, 'specially Bobby. I don't feel that way anymore."

"Me neither," added his brother.

"Your mother was given a drug before you were born," explained Dr. Greenberg. "It's called thalidomide and it causes the children born to have all kinds of sickness. Sickness of the mind that we call psychosis. That's why you hated everyone. We removed the parts of your body that were diseased, so you no longer have that sickness." He hoped!

"Please, Sir," Jack asked Ken, "can we see Bobby? We really do love him and want to tell him how sorry we are for the way we treated him and the trouble we got him into?"

"Well, he has asked how you were doing, so I'll tell him that you want to see him. I'm not sure he'll come. He's still pretty frightened of you."

At that, they both started to cry again, "We did that to him! We made him hate us! We deserve to die!" they sobbed.

Ken and Hank left the room and sat down in Hank's office. "Well, either these kid are the most accomplished con-artists I have ever heard of," Hank began to say.

"Or what we see and hear is one more miracle of many this day," Ken interrupted him.

"I'm going to leave them secured tonight, but I'll have one of the techs stay with them. Somehow, I think we're seeing the genuine article. I can't explain it. I can hardly believe it! First, they return from the dead and now we see a complete reversal of behavior. I don't know what to believe any more."

"Hank, maybe we just have to accept it."

"I'd certainly like to, but not without a lot more testing and observation."

"I agree, so go to it. Now, I need to go home and explain a couple of miracles to Bobby and my family."

They could tell as soon as he came in the door he had something momentous to tell them. He called them all together in a huge embrace and simply told them, "We treated the twins with a drug today that we believed might cure them of their sickness. And they died." The looks of sadness on their faces was heartbreaking. "But wait! They came back to life. I talked to them and they seem like normal boys!"

Their shock was palpable.

"It's a miracle, Dad. God gave us a miracle, just like Jesus did in the Bible," said Peter.

While the others stood there recovering, Ken sat down in his easy chair with Bobby on his lap. "Your brothers asked about you. Whether you were safe. I told them you were living with us and we were trying to have you freed. They asked if you would come to see them."

Bobby looked at Ken with his big blue eyes, full of both hope and fright.

Finally he spoke. "I'm … I'm glad you have made them better. But I can't … can't … can't go see them." He wept for some minutes in Ken's arms. Clearly, he was still very frightened of his brothers. How could he not be?

"It's OK, Bobby. I understand," soothed Ken. "It's probably too soon. But, think about it and tell me when you're ready. I think they really do love you and are desperate to show you." Bobby nodded, sniffling.

That night, Peter gave him lots of hugs before they both fell asleep.

The next morning, Hank decided to release the twins from their bonds, one at a time. Starting with Jimmy, he unstrapped him and helped him sit up. Before he allowed him to stand, he and the tech gave him a thorough exam and took blood samples.

Helping Jimmy to his feet, they supported him as he tried to take his first steps. His legs were wobbly, but he did well, so they moved him into one of the holding cells. One 'benefit' of his weeks of struggling against his bonds was his muscle tone was quite good.

Repeating the steps with Jack, they deposited him in the cell next to his brother.

"This is where you are going to stay," Hank told them. "The guards will bring you food, soap and towels. After you have eaten, you are to take a shower and scrub yourself well. You are listen to the guards and do exactly what they tell you, understand?"

They both nodded yes.

"Please, Doctor! Thank you for curing us." At that comment, Hank fled to his office.

Over the next week or so, Ken visited them every day and conferred with Hank. "Can you give them something to do?" he asked.

"I guess it is pretty boring when I'm not having them tested," admitted Hank. "I'll see what I can find. The can obviously read and write and they test pretty high on the IQ scale."

One evening, just before they were locked in for the night, Jack asked Hank, "Please sir. Could we share a cell? Be both in the same cell?"

Hank thought for a minute. "All right." Turning to the tech, he said, "Put them in the cell at the end of the block, where we had Bobby. You can pull down the second bunk. Make sure they have adequate blankets and start feeding them from the crew mess. Let's see how they get along. Just keep a sharp watch on them."

That night to two of them lay on one bunk, pressing their naked bodies together. Shaking with pent-up fright, they consoled each other the only way they knew. Physically! Finally spent, they slept in each others arms.

The guard reported to Hank the next morning, "The little horn-dogs had a pretty hot night. They seem perfectly normal in that way." Hank smiled. That was a good sign; they had feelings and they knew how to comfort each other.

That morning, he sat down to talk with them in their cell. "I want you two to do something for me. I want you to write a letter to me and tell me all the bad things you have done and how sorry you are."

The color drained from their faces. That would mean thinking about all those years they tried not to think about! But they agreed.

Several days later, he shared their letter with John and Ken.

Dear Dr. Greenbug,

We have been very bad boys since we were just little. We always pinched and slapped our brother just to hear him cry. We knew it was wrong, but it made us feel good when he cried. We liked to hear little boys and girls cry when we hurt them.

We beat up all the other kids where we lived and our father beat us up for that. Then he got sent away to prison and our mom got sick from drinking. And then we beat up Bobby all the time. One time, we tied his hands and put a rope around his neck and pulled him up so his feet were off the ground. He hung there kicking, but, he started to turn blue, so we let him down.

Another time, Jack held him and I started to cut his wee-wee off. But he screamed and we let him off if he promised to do what we told him.

But the worst thing we did was with the little girl. We told Bobby to bring her to the deserted house. He didn't want to do it, but we told him we would cut his balls off if he didn't. Once he got her there, we tore her clothes off and tortured her for a while. We burned her tits with matches and then we both fucked her. I put a rope around her neck and pulled it tight to make her open her mouth. Then we forced Bobby to stick his little prick in her mouth and fuck her face. Then the cops arrived. But the little girl was dead.

So, you see, we have so many things to be sorry for, it's hard to know where to begin. For the little girl, yes. She never did anything to us. She didn't deserve what we did to her.

But worst of all, for Bobby, our own little brother. For all the times we hurt and tourchered him. But we are the most sorry for getting him into this mess. He doesn't deserve to die. He's a good boy and we forced him to do all those things.

Please, please sir, help him to be free again. We deserve to die for what we did. If we must be hung, we deserve it. We'll go without a struggle. But, don't kill Bobby. He's innocent.

Sincerely,
Jimmy Sand
Jack Sand

When Ken shared the letter with Bobby, he buried his face in it and wept.

While all the work with the twins was going on, Ken spent a lot of time trying to find someone in England who would take up Bobby's cause. Through a friend, he finally made contact with Sir Robert Crowell, a former ambassador who was now the Solicitor Royal, the King's lawyer. After hearing Bobby's story, he agreed to lay the matter before His Majesty.

He called back the next day to tell Ken, "His Majesty was appalled by Bobby's plight and will give you all the help he can. But, please don't expect a quick resolution," he warned Ken. "You see, the King is in a fight with Parliament over the proper role he should play in public life. Unlike his grandmother, William intends to bring his influence to bear on many aspects of our life, most especially the slavery issue. Parliament and the Courts are not happy with his activism and have gone out of their way to tell him so. The atmosphere is sometimes tense, so I will have to proceed slowly and carefully. But both William and I, and Prince Harry, too, believe you have a strong case and will eventually win."

He could hardly wait to bring the good news home. At long, last there was real hope!

So life in the Nelson family moved on. Every day, Bobby was a little less afraid and much more part of their daily life. He trusted Ken who counseled patience; Gwen who lavished love and care on him and Peter… Peter who was his 'big brother' and hero. He grew to love Ken and Gwen; he adored Peter.

Gwen continued to teach him at home and Bobby really enjoyed it. He would have liked to be out with other children, though but he knew that wasn't possible and he accepted it. He was concerned about his brothers, but, most of the time, tried not to think about them.

One afternoon, however, Peter came home from school visibly upset. Gwen asked him what the matter was, but he didn't want to tell her in front of Bobby. So, after supper she took Bobby into his room to check on his schoolwork so Peter could talk to his dad alone.

"It's Tommy," Peter said sadly. "He thinks I don't like him any more. He thinks I'm mad at him so I won't let him come over after school. He can't understand why I quit the team. I don't know what to do. We've been friends forever and now he thinks we're not friends anymore. He went home crying today." Peter was near tears, too.

"Ooops!" thought Ken. "I'm afraid we didn't think of this." Peter was right; he and Tommy Wilson had been friends since they were in diapers.

"What did you tell him?" Ken asked his son.

"I told him we had a visitor who was sick and needed lots of care and I had to help. Did I do the right thing?"

"You did fine son! But, the last thing either your mom or I would want is for you to lose Tommy as a friend. You're a very brave and loving boy to protect Bobby in this way." The two of them sat quietly for a while. Then, Ken decided to take another risk.

"Maybe it's time to expand Bobby's world just a little bit. Would you trust Tommy to keep our secret."

"Yes! Oh, yes!"

"I'll have to talk to Tommy's dad about it, but maybe we can invite Tommy over to meet Bobby."

Later that night, he filled Gwen in about Peter's problem. "If Bobby is ever to be whole again, he needs to be around kids his own age. I know Peter and Tommy are older, but they're all we have. I think Bobby's ready for some more trust building."

Ken agreed, so the next morning Ken called Pastor Wilson.

"Good morning, Ken!" Wilson greeted him. "I was just about to call you. Tommy came home yesterday crying his heart out, saying Peter isn't his friend anymore. He was so upset, his mother let him stay home from school today. Did he do something to lose Peter's trust?"

"No! Not at all!" replied Ken. "It's just …. May I come and see you this morning?"

"Certainly, Ken. I'll meet you at my study at the church."

Ken was about to take another leap of faith. He would tell Wilson the entire story and try to enlist father and son in his quest. A short time later, he sat in Wilson's study, having told him everything from start to finish, both about Bobby and the twins.

"Ken I can well appreciate the danger you have placed your family and your company in, because you felt this poor little boy's need and decided to meet it. You have my abiding admiration! And I can appreciate how hard this has been to Peter. From what you've told me, he has grown up quite suddenly and now he feels he is being forced to choose between continuing to love and nurture this unfortunate child and the long-time friend he holds most dear. I don't think it's too much to say that, aside from you and Gwen, Tommy is the most important person in Peter's life. I know Peter is in Tommy's life. That's why this is such a bitter thing for both of them."

"I think I have a solution, Pastor," said Ken. "It's time to expand Bobby's world a little. I'd like Peter to resume inviting him over after school. But only if you approve. And only if you feel Tommy is ready."

Without hesitating for a moment, Wilson answered, "Splendid! I'll talk to Tommy tonight. I won't tell him what Bobby's problem is; just to trust Peter. I think Gwen would probably be the best one to give him the full story, don't you think?"

"I agree," replied Ken. "Do you think tomorrow is too soon."

"No. In fact, his mother and I have to be away until evening. Could you feed him supper"

Ken heaved a sigh of relief, "With pleasure. He likes that beef pot-roast Gwen makes and I'll alert her." The two men knelt in prayer, before parting:

"Gracious Lord,

There are times when we must risk much if we are to follow Your command to heal the sick, clothe the naked and visit the captive. For Your servants Ken, Gwen and Peter, this is one of those times.

Be with them and strengthen and comfort them as they strive to do what is right. Be with Tommy as he joins his best friend in this venture. May they not only succeed, but use this experience to know what it means to be fully human.

But, most of all, bless little Bobby and his brothers as they strive to cast off the curse of the past and move toward wholeness again."

The next morning, as he was getting ready to leave for school, Gwen walked Peter part way down the block where she told him, "I want you to bring Tommy home with you today."

"Really! Super!" And throwing ten-year-old embarrassment out the window, he hugged and kissed his mother in plain sight of his classmates.

"On the way home," counseled Gwen, "you may tell him about Bobby and what we're trying to do, so long as others can't hear you."

"I will, Mom. Thank you! Thank you!" And he floated the rest of the way to school.

After lunch, Bobby usually worked on his lessons until Peter arrived home. But, about an hour before she knew the boys were due, she told Bobby to put his work away and come sit with her. He could tell something important was going to happen and he was a bit frightened. She held him on her lap and soothed his fears.

"Peter is going to bring a friend home with him today."

"I'll go into my cage and stay out of sight," offered Bobby. "I won't come out until Peter says his friend is gone."

No, Bobby. We want you to meet his friend. His name is Tommy and we want him to be your friend, too."

Big blue eyes looked at her, wanting so desperately to trust. Finally, he found his courage and his tongue. "If Peter thinks his friend is OK, then I will meet him. Peter wouldn't do anything to hurt me. And you and Sir Ken wouldn't either," he announced, trying to assure both Gwen and himself.

Gwen kissed him gently and told him to finish his schoolwork and wait for the boys in their room. In truth, schoolwork was the farthest thing from his mind as he waited for this new development.

Two excited boys burst into the house a little after three o'clock. "Hi Mom!" "High Aunt Gwen!"

Gwen met them just inside the door, "Hi guys! It's so nice to have you here, Tommy. Peter, why don't you go on to your room and change. I'd like to talk to Tommy for a few minutes. See if you can find something that will fit Tommy."

"OK, Mom!" And he ran off leaving the two of them alone.

All was quiet for a few minutes; Gwen wasn't quite sure how to begin.

Tommy solved that problem for her, "Aunt Gwen," he began, head hung and shamefaced, "I should never doubted that Peter was my friend and would always be my friend. But, when he invited me over this afternoon, it was the most wonderful feeling. He's been my best friend forever and the thought that I had lost him was the most awful, saddest thing I have ever felt."

"And then he told me all about Bobby and I was so proud of him and you and Uncle Ken, I thought my heart would burst. How you risked everything to help a poor little boy who needed a family badly. I am ashamed I felt so sad."

Gwen took him into her arms, "Tommy, Ken and I are so sorry we caused you such pain. The last thing either of us would want is for Peter and you to lose each other. We couldn't tell you… not because we didn't trust you… but Bobby just wasn't ready to trust anyone else yet. We think he is now."

"Aunt Gwen, if I can help any way, I want to do it! I owe that to Peter for being so horrid to him. Peter is a wizard friend and I want to help him and Bobby."

"Please understand," she cautioned him, "you can't tell anyone else about Bobby. Except your father. Ken explained the whole thing to him yesterday."

"I know, Aunt Gwen. Father says you are bending the law."

Gwen tousled Tommy's hair, a gesture he permitted only her and his mother. "Peter!" she called out. "Please bring Bobby to the kitchen!"

Peter entered, towing a somewhat reluctant Bobby by the hand. "Bobby, this is my best friend, Tommy. We've been best friends forever!"

Tommy extended his hand to the shaking little boy. "Hello, Bobby. I know Peter is your 'big brother' but I'd like to be your friend and help you be a regular kid again."

Bobby though for a minute, "If this boy is Peter's best friend, he must be OK. Peter wouldn't have a friend who wasn't OK." The fright left him and he accepted Tommy's hand.

The next thing either of them knew they were hugging and dancing around laughing and crying. The ice had been broken; Bobby now had a new friend and they could go off and play.

Busying herself making dinner, Gwen was startled a short time later to see three bare butts come bouncing past the kitchen on their way to the family room. When she asked Peter about it later, he explained, "Well, I didn't really have anything to fit Tommy except pajamas and he said he didn't want to make Bobby feel 'different', so…"

"A perfectly reasonable and loving answer," she thought, demonstrating once more why she and Ken felt Tommy was a very special boy.

When she called them to get dressed for dinner, Peter and Tommy balked.

"Why does Bobby always have to be naked?" asked Peter.

"Why can't he have some nice clothes to dress up, too?" asked Tommy.

"Because that is the rule for slaves," she replied. "Except for very special circumstances."

"Well, tonight is special, isn't it? Tommy's here and Bobby has him for a new friend, and …"

Gwen threw her head back and laughed until the tears came. "OK! You guys win. See what you can find for him to wear."

When she told Ken about the exchange, he, too, laughed. "In for a pence, in for a pound," he quoted. "Why not? It's a silly rule designed to humiliate slaves. That definitely does not apply here."

As for Bobby, he couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. He was used to being naked and clothes seemed a little strange and even uncomfortable, particularly if he practically drowned in them. "Oh well," he thought, "Peter and Tommy thought it was OK, so it was OK with him."

Tommy's favorite pot-roast was eagerly consumed by all. And, if you can't figure out what dessert was, I shan't tell you.

After dinner, they sat in the family room while Ken and Bobby told them what was being done to help Bobby be a free boy once more and what had happened to Bobby's brothers. Tommy listened intently feeling very grown up that they would trust him so.

After Pastor Wilson picked Tommy up, Peter felt philosophical. "It's a new chapter in the 'Bobby Story', isn't it?" he asked his dad.

"Yes, a happy one I think. But not quite happily-ever-after quite yet."

"I know," sighed Peter.

Meanwhile, the twins continued to amaze and baffle Dr. Greenberg. "They're so well behaved it's frightening. I've tested them time and time again and they are boringly normal. I put shackles on them and have them help around the facility and they are like eager young puppies. The whole staff keeps waiting for them to blow up, but they don't. They just look at us with those angelic blue eyes full of sadness and shame. What are we going to do with them?"

"Well," replied Ken, "we can't keep them here much longer. The inspectors are due here next month. We've already certified the boys both died in the Castrex experiment, and we would have a great deal of trouble explaining why they are still alive. I don't think we can convince them we have a new drug that brings people back from the dead."

"Not bloody likely!" agreed the doctor. "All of which leaves us nowhere. I've been giving them MHT (male hormone therapy) too, and it's blowing my budget all to hell."

"Our boss is getting very nervous, but I do have one possibility," said Ken. "My pastor suggested a place called Paloma Ranch."

"YOU TOLD HIM?" squeaked Greenberg.

"Yes, and his son, too. Tommy is Peter's best friend and now he is Bobby's friend, too."

Greenberg turned an unhealthy shade of pale.

"Calm down, Hank. I know what I'm doing. Besides, John and I are the ones who are vulnerable, not you. All you did was falsify two death certificates."

"I DID NOT! THEY WERE CLINICALLY DEAD!" Then, realizing he was being baited, Greenberg sat down and calmed down. "Tell me about this dude ranch."

"It's hardly a dude ranch. This guy has taken in hundreds of Class Three Slaves and, together, they run the most successful farm and ranch operation in all of British North America. He works them hard, but he has provided them with a home, dignity and a life they can be proud of. In return, they have made him a multimillionaire."

"Well, for God sake, let's find out!"

Ken called Paloma Ranch that afternoon. He asked the young teen who answered for the owner. In a short time he came on the line.

"This is Michael Connor. What can I do for you?"

"Mr. Connor, I'm Ken Nelson, Director of Testing at GAF Pharmaceuticals. We have a rather unusual situation with two of our test subjects. We hope you might be able to help us."

"You have someone you want us to take off your hands, don't you?"

"Yes Sir. The situation is unique." And he went on to tell Connor the full story of the three boys from start to finish.

There was a long silence when he finished.

"So you want me to take these three off your hands before the authorities find out about them?"

"No Mr. Connor, only the two older ones. We're certain we can get the conviction reversed for the youngest one. That's why he's living in my home."

"All right just two eleven-year-old eunuchs who are legally dead. You don't want much, do you?"

"Please, Mr. Connor!"

"Call me Michael, please," Connor interrupted him.

"Please, Michael. They are still Class Three Slaves. You can hide them and no one will ever question it. The alternative is for us to put them down. After what they have been through, no one here want to see that happen. Won't you help us?" Ken pleaded.

"Well, I wouldn't like to have that happen either," replied Michael. "Tell you what. I have to come east next week on some business. I can probably arrange to stop off at your facility. If that's OK?"

"Oh that would be fine!" Ken replied. "Until then."

He hung up the phone, feeling very much better and went to tell his boss and Greenberg about his conversation with the ranch owner.

That night he told Gwen, Peter and Bobby, also. For the first time, Bobby seemed happy that his brothers might be saved permanently.

Early the following Wednesday morning, Greenberg made sure the twins were scrubbed spotless and told them they would have a very important visitor that day… one who could be the difference between life and death for them.

Ken met Michael at the airport and the two men chatted on the way to the plant.

"I did some checking about you," Michael confided to Ken. "Do you know Sir John Davidson?"

"I know of him, but I've never met him."

"Well, he remembered serving in Commons with your father. Says your father always treated him politely even though he was in the other party. Asked helpful questions and didn't simply oppose everything Sir John proposed. He says you're a good risk, so here I am."

Ken was surprised. He had not been close to his father for a number of years.

When the reached the plant, Ken took him to see Dr. Greenberg who told Michael everything he knew about the twins… not a whole lot. He made sure Michael knew the boys were eunuchs.

"That's not a problem," Michael assured them. "I took in another boy several years ago who had a similar problem that the authorities fixed by castrating him. We've had him on MHT and he has grown into a fine young man. In fact, he is my son's Personal Attendant and the two of them will run Paloma when I am gone. You talked to him briefly when you called last week."

Both Ken and Hank felt relieved on that score.

"Now, when can I see these medical marvels of yours?"

"They're waiting for you in our secure conference room," replied Ken, as he led the ranch owner into a room at the end of the main corridor.

Michael looked at the two cuffed and shackled boys sitting there nervously. "My God! They're beautiful!" he thought. Man and boys studied each other and finally Michael asked, "Could their restraints be removed? You tell me they are no longer dangerous, so I'd like to start out believing that. Don't worry, I can take care of myself."

Both Ken and Hank were shocked. After a moment's hesitation, they began removing the cuffs and shackles.

"And, I'd like to be alone with them." Ken looked at Hank and nodded and they left closing the door behind them.

"Well, boys," Michael began.

"Please, Sir," Jimmy interrupted. "We're not boys any more. We don't have any balls."

"You look like boys to me, and very good looking ones at that. I know you're taking therapy that will keep you growing as boys should. I have another young man at the ranch who is like you and he has grown into a superb male specimen. So, I think you have nothing to be ashamed of on that score."

It took a few minutes for the twins to absorb Micheal's words. They had not expected that answer.

"Thank you Sir." they replied in unison.

"Now, let's get down to the important things. I know why you are here and what you have done. But, that's past. You can't change it. What you can change is your future."

The twins nodded hopefully.

"Paloma Ranch has been very successful because we all work very hard to make it so. We can do that because everyone there has pride in what they do. Every one of the more than five hundred slaves there has built a new life based on those two factors; hard work and pride. It's not an easy life. It's a hard life. But it can be a very satisfying life."

"Sir," said Jack, "we have done very bad things to our little brother and killed a little girl, We don't deserve to live, but if we do, we deserve to work very hard every day."

"And be punished every day," added his brother.

Michael could see the problem. They were so full of guilt. "Boys, if you were to come to Paloma, you will work very hard, just like the rest of us. If you screw up, you will be corrected. But you will not be punished for what you did in the past. That is over. Your past life is over. You must build a new life. Can you do that?"

The twins looked at each other. This man was prepared to overlook all their past misdeeds, no mater how evil, and give them a new start. It was more than they could take and they burst into tears.

Michael gathered the sobbing boys into his ample arms and told them, "I know your stories and what you must have gone through all those years. And it doesn't matter! I believe you are fine young boys and will become equally fine young men. Will you come to Paloma?"

"Oh Sir," they blubbered. "How can we ever thank you?"

"You will every day," Michael told them. Taking them by their hands, he led them out of the room and back to the doctor's office where Ken and Hank waited for them. "I think I have a couple of new ranch hands."

Ken immediately went to tell John and they sat down together to figure out a way to get the twins out of their facility without tipping off the authorities. Michael came up with the solution.

"I'll send my son in a chartered aircraft with two 'patients' who are to be treated with a new drug you have developed. The patients will be dummies, of course and we'll simply substitute your boys on the return trip." They agreed to have the twins ready the following Tuesday.

Michael left, leaving a very relieved GAF staff behind him.

That evening, Ken told the family the good news. "They will be where they can have a new life and contribute to society. We couldn't ask for anything more."

Bobby was thoughtful. Maybe it was time. "Please, Sir Ken. I would like to see them before they leave."

"I hoped you would want to," Ken replied. "Once they leave here, you will never see them again."

Monday afternoon, they spirited Bobby into the plant, where he was able to spend some time with his brothers. At first, when the approached him, he cringed. But they just wanted to hold him and tell him how truly sorry they were. They had a short, but comfortable visit after that. Bobby told Ken on the way home, "I can let it go. I don't have to be afraid of them any more. I hope they will be happy at the ranch. No matter what they say, they deserve to be happy."

Ken marveled at the understanding of this little boy they had plucked from the jaws of death.

The plane with the 'patients' arrived as scheduled. Paulie Connor introduced himself and his Personal Assistant, Toby McGuire. He was the castrati that Michael had told him about, Ken remembered. He agreed wholeheartedly that Micheal's investment in him had paid handsomely. It was quite evident, too, that Paulie and Toby were deeply in love.

After a suitable interval for the 'treatment' the twins were sedated, placed on the litters and covered for the trip to their new home. The two dummies were gradually ground up with the rest of the trash.

There was great relief at GAF and the Nelson house that night.

Bobby cried a bit; his visit with his brothers had effected him deeply. Lying in Peter's arms in bed that night was just the therapy he needed. By morning he was his usual sunny self.

But days turned into weeks and weeks into months with little progress for Bobby. The court simply replied they might consider it. Sir Robert counseled patience, but it would soon be two years and Bobby was beginning to loose hope. Peter and Tommy tried their best, but it was a loosing battle.

One evening, Ken walked home with Peter from a football match. As they strolled along, Peter suddenly asked him, "Dad, do you think the court will ever act?"

"Yes, Son. I swore I will never give up. And I mean to keep that promise."

"He's been getting sad again, lately."

"I know. You and Tommy are just wonderful with him, but you can't do it all. There's got to be some way we can move this whole thing off center. But I don't know what it is."

The walked along in silence for a few minutes before Ken broached another subject with his son that he had been thinking about lately.

"Peter, I want to ask you a question and I want you to be completely honest with me."

"Sure, Dad."

"When you and Tommy are together, do you ever mess around with each other?"

Peter stopped dead in his tracks. "You mean, you mean sex?" he squeaked.

Ken nodded.

Peter stared at his shoes in horror. How did his dad know? Finally, he whispered, "Yes."

Then, seized with guilt, he stammered, with his head down, "I'm sorry. We'll stop it. We'll never do it again!" And he began to cry.

Ken drew Peter into his arms. "No Peter, I don't want you to stop. What you and Tommy are doing is perfectly all right. All boys your age play around with each other, It's part of your beginning to grow up. It's the way you and Tommy show your love for each other. Don't forget, I was a boy your age once, too. I had a special friend and we had sex all the time."

Peter felt great relief in his dad's arms. He had been terrified for a minute or two, but it was OK now. He smiled up at his dad and simply said, "Thanks, Dad. You understand. It feels so good and makes us feel special."

"The reason I asked you is this. Have you ever involved Bobby in your play?"

"No Dad! He's too little."

"That's good, son. But he's growing, too and it won't be long before he has some of the same feelings you and Tommy have. I just don't think he needs that on his plate right now. You can hug and kiss him but that's as far as it should go. If he starts to want more than that, let's you and I talk it over, OK? And, by the way, what we talked about tonight is strictly between us. I'll never tell another soul, not even your mother."

They walked on again, and Peter took his father's hand. "I'm the luckiest boy in the whole world to have a Dad like you!" he declared.

But time dragged on and, despite Sir Robert's optimism, it was getting harder to be hopeful every day. It would soon be two years Bobby had been with them. He was practically perfect in his behavior, helpful around the house and a loving playmate for Peter and Tommy. But often he cried in Peter's arms when they were in bed together.

Peter was now in the sixth grade (or form) in school and one evening he came home with an idea.

"We're supposed to tell the class about an important person in our lives, besides our mom and dad. I've been thinking. The most important person in my life right now is Bobby. I know I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but maybe if I did people would help us get him free."

Ken thought for a minute. "Maybe Peter was right. Maybe they needed help. Lord knows keeping him a secret didn't seem to be working."

"All right son. I'll discuss this with Sir Robert. Why don't you write down some things you want to tell about him and we'll look them over."

Ken called Sir Robert that evening and the both agreed a new approach might be helpful. It really couldn't do any harm.

Mrs. Masters, Peter's teacher, was surprised and very supportive of their plan. It would certainly open up whole new avenues of experience for her students.

On the appointed day, Peter dressed in his best clothes and took his place in front of the class. He had not told Tommy that he was about to blow their cover.

Taking a deep breath, he began.

"Almost two years ago, a little boy came to live with us. His name is Bobby and he was just six years old."

Tommy stared at him in shock! What was his friend doing?

"It's OK, Tommy" Peter reassured him, and went on.

"Most of you know my dad works for GAF and his job is to make sure the medicine they make is OK and won't hurt someone. They use people who have done very bad things to test the medicine. Sometimes, it doesn't work out and they die."

" Bobby was sent to GAF with his two older brothers. They had all been sentenced to hang for killing a little girl!"

"I know some of you have brothers and sisters the same age as Bobby, or a cousin, or just a family friend. Can you imagine putting a noose around their neck and pulling them up in the air so they couldn't breathe and watching them strangle to death?"

"Specially if you knew the little child was not guilty and the court had made a terrible, terrible mistake. Bobby hadn't killed anyone! His brothers killed the little girl! They had forced him to help by threatening to cut off his boy parts."

"Bobby's brothers have been punished and are now dead. But my dad and the other managers at GAF promised they would not use Bobby for testing and they would get the court to admit its mistake, And they were never going to give up!"

"When he came to us, he was frightened of everyone, including my mom and dad. I was the first person he really trusted in a long, long time. He needed me. That's why he is so important to me. Without me, he might never be just a kid again. For the first time, I held another life in my hands."

"The result is a beautiful little boy who is slowly starting to be a kid again. There are lots of things he can't do, like being with other kids, playing outside, or going to a football match. But, today that is going to change a little. He needs to know other kids… starting with you… can be his friends and hope the court will do what they must."

"I'd like you to meet him!"

"He looks just like my young cousin!" exclaimed one of the boys in the back of the class.

Tommy immediately jumped up, ran to the two of them, and stood on the other side of Bobby with his arm about him. "I've known Bobby for almost a year. He's a neat kid! Just awesome! And I am proud to be his friend and I will keep helping Peter and his mom and dad any way I can."

After a moment, a girl in the second row got up and joined them, saying, "Bobby, I will be your friend, too."

Within a minute, every boy and girl had crowded around them, touching Bobby and pledging their undying friendship, asking how they could help. Mrs. Masters stood in the back of the room, crying unabashedly. This afternoon would be the one she remembered all her life.

After about five minutes, Ken managed to quiet the throng. "Bobby has something he wants to say!"

The group parted a bit and Bobby simply said, "Thank you! It is good to have many friends!"

Ken asked them all to return to their seats. "Bobby, why don't you sit with Tommy at his desk." Peter grinned at his dad; he knew he was trying to make both Bobby and Tommy feel good.

"I'm Kenneth Nelson, Peter's dad," he told them. "I want to tell you something about courage. In the time I have known him, Bobby has shown more courage than any of you could imagine. He was frightened out of his mind when he first came to us, but he made up his mind he was going to trust us. If you think that wasn't courageous, think what you might have done in his place. He had no one… NO ONE… who cared about him, who loved him. All the grownups wanted to do was kill him. He didn't have a family like you all do."

"Another thing. Does he hate his brothers? He certainly had reason to for all the times they hurt him and for getting him into trouble. Does he hate the misguided men who want to kill him?"

"NO! Hate is not in his vocabulary. He doesn't know how to hate. He fears them, yes. But we have tried to keep him safe from harm so he doesn't have to live in fear."

"We… all of us, including Peter… decided we would be his family and we would try to help him recover from the nightmare he was in. Many of you have asked how you can help. Tell your moms and dads about this afternoon. Ask them to tell their friends and neighbors about Bobby and how cruelly he's been treated. Court judges don't want to ever, ever admit they might have made a mistake. We know they did. And maybe… if we all try very hard… they will know that too."

What a difference the kids in that one sixth grade class would make. For they did exactly what Ken asked them to do. By noon of the next day, GAF and the Nelsons were besieged by the press. Shielding Bobby as much as possible, John and Ken simply told the reporters Bobby's story and about his brothers' 'deaths'. Omitting, of course, any hint the twins were alive again.

The press accounts lit a firestorm of indignation throughout British North America; it quickly spread to Great Britain. The Tory government, at first, tried to tough it out and refused to budge an inch.

The loss of two by-elections to candidates who ran on a 'Save Bobby' platform changed some thinking. Faced with a revolt of their nervous backbenchers, the Prime Minister resigned and was replaced by his deputy. He was a bit more conciliatory, but not much, claiming he had no power to influence the Law Lords.

Balderdash!

The Justice Minister made a feeble attempt to convince everyone that he had sent the three boys to North America to 'save' them from the gallows. No one believed him and he was sacked.

While this turmoil went on, the King succeeded in convincing the Chief Law Lord to retire and appointed a less doctrinaire Lord in his place. To his credit, that worthy promptly declared there was 'probable cause' to reopen Bobby's case and he appointed a three-judge panel to review it.

This news was received with great joy and excitement in the Nelson household. Sir Robert told them he was absolutely certain the conviction and sentence would be reversed. It was only a matter of time until a hearing was scheduled and Bobby would, at last, be free.

Left unsaid… even unthinkable… was the chance the original conviction might be upheld. Were that the case, Bobby would not live to see the next sunrise! Ken's mind dwelt on this despite his efforts to remain optimistic.

Ken sat in a chair, securely bound. Before him, on a short platform, stood Bobby with the noose already about his neck. Slowly, the rope tightened and drew him up off the platform. The little boy tried to speak, but all that could be heard was choking sounds as he kicked violently.

Ken tried to break his bonds to go to him and rescue him, but could not and he collapsed in despair.

But even worse horror was to be visited upon him as the child trying to fight for his very last breath turned into PETER! "NO! NO! IT CAN'T BE! NOT MY PETER!" he screamed.

"Oh Gwen!" he sobbed. "It was awful! They were hanging Bobby and Peter!"

"Ken, you have got to believe!" she consoled him. "Everything will be OK. Bobby will be freed! A mother knows these things." It was the first time she had ever held that she was, indeed, Bobby's 'mother'. Even though she had been his de-facto mother for more than two years.

The very next day, Sir Robert called with the news they had all been waiting for. The hearing was called!

Ken rushed home with the news and there was a great deal of joy and elation in the house that night. But he had told Gwen the conditions attached to the agreement, conditions they both knew the boys would not like. So, for the night, he let them rejoice in ignorance.

The next morning, he explained the situation thoroughly. "The High Court will hear your case and Sir Robert is absolutely sure they will throw out the original case. That means you won't be under sentence of death any more. But, Bobby, you will have to go back to England for that. Sir Robert will take good care of you while you are there and you might be there for some time. You'll have to travel in a transfer cage, but I promise you, it will be as comfortable as we can make it."

"Oh Bobby! I'm so happy for you, even though I will miss you awful while you are gone. Who will keep my bed warm?" Peter quipped, trying to put a good face on his sadness.

Bobby moved over and threw his arms about his 'big brother'. "You will always be my family. I've never had a real family before. I've never had a brother who loved me, like you do, Peter. I just hope it will not be long 'til I can be back with you again."

"AND AS A FREE BOY!" shouted Peter, dancing about the room.

"If it were only that simple," thought Ken. "His innocence will be shattered," thought Gwen. They both knew, from their conversations with Sir Robert, there could be great danger for this little boy they had come to love so dearly. And the likelihood of a quick return was nil.

"When does he have to go?" asked Peter.

"Monday," replied his father. "But let's enjoy the weekend!" Easier said than done.

Sunday night was a particularly difficult one for both boys. They lay together in Bobby's bed and wept. Yes, they knew this was the right thing for Bobby. It was the one chance he had to become a free boy again… free from the threat of execution hanging over him, free to be a full person once more.

But they knew they would miss each other terribly.

At the plant the next morning, they confronted the dreaded travel cage. Ken had the cage modified with extra pads so it would be more comfortable. But it was still a cage. He lifted Bobby into it and helped him to lie on his back. Peter stood in the background with his mother, white faced, but dry-eyed.

"I have to put in a butt-plug," said Ken. Bobby obediently raised his legs to give Ken access to his little hole. As gently as possible, Ken inserted the butt plug. Bobby grimaced but did not cry out. Satisfied, Ken nodded, Bobby lowered his legs and Ken fastened them securely to the cage base.

Gwen was next. "I know it hurts, but I have to put a catheter in," she told the child.

"I know, Miss Gwen," he answered. 'I'll try to be brave."

Gwen stripped the catheter out of its sterile packaging. She had brought the smallest one she could find, but it was still much larger than she would have preferred. She just hoped it wouldn't stretch his urethra too much. Coating it with sterile gel, she inserted it slowly into his penis.

Despite heroic efforts, Bobby let out a shriek and burst into tears. It hurt like hell!

Gwen wiped his tears away and kissed him before inserting a shunt into his left wrist. Satisfied all was ok, she secured his left arm to his side, taped his penis and the catheter to his belly, and turned away so he wouldn't see her tears.

"OK, boys! Time to say your goodbyes," said Ken.

Peter leaned over the cage as far as he could. "Hang in there, Bobby. Everything's going to be OK!"

In answer, Bobby reached up with his right hand and touched Peter's cheek. Peter immediately grasped Bobby's hand and held it there.

Taking one of the prepared needles, Gwen emptied it into the shunt. The little boy's body began to relax, his eyes blinked once or twice and then closed. Peter gently laid Bobby's hand down at his side where his father secured it.

He reached over and touched the sleeping boy's lips. "Goodbye, Little Brother; hurry back to us." Ken simply had not had the heart to tell him it could be a long, long time before Bobby returned to them.

If ever!

NEXT PART