"Miss Ayla, even with Amilla's assistance, I can't pick up Lane's signal." Airen sounded more desperate than frustrated.

That was the second time this morning that Airen had called Lane "Lane". "Lane?...Not Master Lane?" She was curious, because she had never heard Airen call him just "Lane."

Airen looked sad. "Master Lane is my boss. Lane is my friend." Ayla hugged him to her stomach and stroked his little back.

"Oh, Airen..."

"What if they have really hurt him...or...or killed him?" He sounded like he was going to cry. Ayla, who was crying outright now, suggested, "Just keep trying...'little buddy.' I know he's counting on us. Maybe he's just out of range." She tried to sound encouraging. "Keep trying." She looked slowly around at the walls in Lane's office, a space that represented Lane's dedication to the Towers. Lane and Airen had remodeled this room in the basement, and it screamed his presence. They were working there during his absence.

Airen muttered in what could only be called irritation, "...If I had my mainframe..."

"What?"

He turned to face her. "I believe I could boost his GPS signal, if I had access to my mainframe."

She looked puzzled. "Why don't you?"

Airen continued scanning and answered absently, "Great Granddad blocked me. Master Lane said that Granddad was afraid that I would take over the world, a la "Terminator" or "War Games." Master Lane was a little 'freaked out,' himself, as he put it, but was going to ask you about revoking the ban...just before he was taken."

Ayla expressed the first interest she had had in anything since Lane disappeared. She had been so worried and so distracted that she couldn't think of anything else. "What do you mean? What do I need to do?"

Airen glanced at her. "To do what?"

"Restore your access..."

Airen looked surprised. "Are you sure, Miss Ayla? Your Grandfather was very adamant that I..."

"If Lane was okay with it, why wouldn't I be?" Airen nodded slowly. She continued, "You don't lie. You would never do anything to hurt Lane or myself...or the Towers, for that matter... And if you think it would help now...what do I do to fix you?"

"I am honored by your confidence in me, Miss Ayla. You need only tell me using your command level code."

Assured that the drug would no longer need reinforcement, Varda got bored with the whole business and decided to head out of town for a little while. (...and take his daughter with him. He hated to have to expose her to so much badness. He might start making her stay at home altogether...) Although he knew it would continue to cycle into the pain stage on its own, there were only so many times he could listen to Crawford scream and still get satisfaction from it. He wondered himself what it was about this Crawford that really got under Fuentes skin.

He told his top two lieutenants that the Towers had found Crawford and would be coming down on them any minute. "I suggest we abandon ship." Nobody moved. "Now, you idiots!" As soon as he was alone, he opened a desk drawer to reveal a many-buttoned control panel. He flipped a couple switches. Musing to himself, "They can't blame me if the Towers people rescue Crawford..." With pursed lips, he mumbled, "This is for you, Issy..." He pressed a largish red button and left the building...in a hurry.

Ayla uttered the code, "Ayla level command 'Restore Airen all access to mainframe.'"

Airen's face went blank for a millisecond and then he looked elated. "Have him."

Ayla blinked, and Lane's obviously in-pain voice poured from a set of speakers on his desk. "Been talkin,' hopin' you'd hear me. Will keep on long as I can. Hope you pick up signal." His voice was a weakened rasp. "Know you chipped me." Ayla blanched. (It was her idea...). "No complaints...Glad you did..." (...A desperate note came into his voice...) "Little buddy, need help... Shootin' me up with somethin.' Same as they did Ayla, I think. Pain worse each time. Not sure how much more I can take."

There was a pause, and they could hear his labored breathing. He coughed and started again. "In case I don't make it, tell Ayla love her. Always have. Always will..." There was a long pause where all they could hear was his ragged breath. "Wanna come home. Wanted be next Granddad...at Towers...Airen, best friend ever had...or will." Airen straightened slightly and blinked rapidly.

Ayla was already talking on the com, organizing the rescue party."Gotta keep talking." Lane paused again. "Ayla...You listenin,' too, honey?...Love you, sweetheart...all my heart...soul..." There was a catch in his voice, and he sounded like it was harder to speak. "Sorry. Pain comin' back. I'll...try again, if passes...an' I'm still ali...." They heard a couple of deep breaths, followed by a baritone moaning wail.

Ayla crumbled into an all out sob. "Oh, God...no..." There were a couple of short puffs of breath, a sniffle, a catch or two...the sounds of a man trying not to cry. There was a moment of silence, a prolonged, strangled scream that dissolved into sobs; then total silence. Ayla screamed "No, no, no..."

Airen said "Shhh...Uh, ma'am...Wait...Wait...I can hear him breathing. He is still with us." She sucked in a shaky breath and murmured softly, "Thank you, God...and you, Airen."

There were loud noises and a scuffling in the hall outside Lane's office door. A head popped in. "Miss Ayla, we're ready to go. Any special instructions?" She wiped her eyes and stood taller. Picking up a large handgun, she shoved it into the back of her waistband. Grabbing a small bag of miscellaneous tools, she strode toward the door. "I say, kill 'em all...If they're armed, take 'em out. If not, use your best judgement. I'm going straight to Lane. James, you and the other personal guards, please come with me. He might need help physically."

Knowing that the Towers family guard was coming, nearly all of Varda's flunkies had cleared out. After what turned out to be a pretty one-sided skirmish, most of the Towers group stormed the basement to find Lane unconscious, strung up to an iron pipe by thick ropes around his wrists. (Ayla advised Airen, "Found him.") (Airen replied, "Hallelujah, Miss Ayla!)

He was on his knees, almost, since his bonds barely let his knees and toes touch the cold floor. He was naked, barefoot, and soaking wet from a recent washing down with the firehose. The temperature was barely above fifty. His hands were tied so that his shoulders and arms were stretched until his wrists were bloodied. The ropes were the only thing keeping him more or less upright. Unable to see his face, his head hanging forward, his chin on his chest, Ayla ran and dropped to her knees and lifted his precious face with gentle hands.

His eyes were closed and there was evidence of tears on his cheeks. "Oh, my darling darling." Turning to her own personal guard, she commanded, "Don't just stand there. Cut him loose. Get a blanket..." James blinked but obeyed. "Sorry, James. Not thinking straight..." she apologized to her guard. She directed her closest trooper, "Help James, please." As Lane was loosed, she supported him with arms around his shoulders and lowered him to lay his head in her lap. She carefully wrapped the blanket around his legs and body, up to his chest. She left his upper body free, so she could chafe his arms and examine his mangled wrists. 

A female guardian ran and knelt by Ayla at Lane's feet. In her hands she had a pair of fuzzy socks. "Ma'am, may I?" Ayla nodded and smiled her gratitude. (...It would take a woman to think of the practical things...) The young woman pushed them onto Lane's feet and squeezed Ayla's arm. (Lane later determined her name was Joyce Allen and sent her a personal note of thanks.)

Lane's neck muscles and abdomen were still distended, his tendons taut. Ayla recognized the signs. She remembered. He was still in agony, although unconscious. She grabbed her bag of "supplies," and dug out a small gray plastic case. After filling a syringe with a thick white liquid from a tiny bottle, she jabbed the needle into his thigh. ("Airen, injection completed.")

(Using Ayla's blood, Airen had designed a serum antidote to Varda's pain potion. This was its first field test. Ayla sent a silent prayer that the antidote was effective.)

She brushed his hair off his brow and gently caressed his face. "Baby, please wake up." The strained muscles in his neck and face were relaxing, and his whole body had fallen slack to the floor. Eyes closed and her tears streaming, she lifted his body and hugged him to her breast. She felt his hand stir as he tried to touch her. With bounding joy, she opened her eyes to find him searching her face through half-lidded eyes. He mouthed her name on a soft sigh.

"Oh, Lane..." (Thank you again, God.)

"James, water..."Her guardian rushed forward with a canteen. Supporting Lane's head, she trickled a little water between his lips. Lane nodded a little, and she tipped the canteen further. He drank avidly. Managing to strangle himself, he had a mild coughing fit. He smiled a weak smile and closed his eyes.