Jim Ellison loved the night. It was the only time he could let go, no ear plugs, no headaches, no assault on his senses. He could hear for miles because the sensory input was not as overwhelming as it was during the day.

Jim checked the night sky and was relieved to note that not a cloud could be detected. The wet season was still several weeks away.

With the summer coming up, he needed to request additional supplies. If he did it early enough, the supplies could be air dropped and he wouldn't have to go to headquarters at all.

The officer headed to his garage barn. For patrol on such a clear night, Jim decided to take Tank. He saddled his horse with quick precision. Together, they headed out to patrol the open country.

As nighttime sounds replaced the day noise, Jim released the rigid control he kept on his hearing. He let it reach far and wide. The sentry automatically cataloged all the sounds that were indigenous to his area, the kookaburra, fruit bats, eastern grey and red kangaroos, emus and the howl of the dingo. That way it was always faster to establish any sound that was out of place.

Jim Ellison patrolled the most remote area of the department's jurisdiction, so it was only nine or ten times a year that he found real disturbances within his scope.

The summer usually brought out a few remote campers. Most of those folks were knowledgeable and had adequate provisions. Flash floods always had him out and working, then it was mostly animals and the natives that required his aid.

Twice a year he was forced into Headquarters at Darwin and twice a year he had to go into Alice Springs. Staff meetings; like any of the others have ever worked with him. Jim smiled to himself, he believed that all but the Captain were afraid that he would request a change of duty area and that one of 'them' would have to take the remote area. He could make that request at any time, but no, he liked where he was. He didn't want to even be close to the cities whatsoever.

He liked looking out over the red earth, sparely populated with shrubs. Rocks were not in short supply, but none that could block his view. This open expanse had been his to protect for the last five years.

He was used to the solitude, he liked the solitude. So it was all the more startling to hear a one sided conversation coming off the great expanse of land. He focused on the voice.

"Well, Naomi, I guess it's better we don't say goodbye. Now you can just wonder and you'll like that better than being sure. This way...what'll it be, five or six years before you notice you haven't heard from me...yeah, better this way."

The voice was melancholy, not agitated, maybe a little fear could be detected. Jim tried to pinpoint the direction as the voice continued.

"It kinda sucks, really. Who's gonna report me missing? Probably the only place that'll put any effort into it would be the university loan office looking for their money.

I'm always gone, so I don't have any friends that'll notice the absence. Doesn't say much about me, does it?"

Jim could hear a rustle of clothing and a gulp of liquid. Then the man started talking again.

"Those assholes will spin some story and I'll be too dead to refute it. Well, I guess I get to die for my principles. The aboriginal people were just too decent to let Buckner and Kincaid get their way and pull a fast one. The tribal elders trusted that an educational institution would be honest and above board. They sure haven't seen an accreditation committee meeting. Well, I guess my dying will at least do some good, Jatu won't deal without me, so Buckner and Kincaid won't go back there."

Jim froze at the references to dying. Not on his watch. He would get to the young man. Jim got off his horse and picked up a stone. He clutched it tightly in his hand as he sent his hearing out as far as it could go. He concentrated on the voice, trying to ignore the sad words.

"I think the hardest part of dying out here is that I'm all alone. Never wanted to die alone." A long pause, then a forlorn voice continued, "But in death it's pretty much the same as life, alone."

The bushman knew the voice was north of him, but just how far he couldn't pinpoint. He could well be over a hundred miles away. He mounted Tank, with stone still in his hand, he kept his hearing fixed on the rambling soliloquy.

"Hey, a lizard, a big lizard, must be a goanna. Ah, don't be afraid, I'm not gonna eat you. Does the way I look scare you? You wouldn't be the first. Lots of people see a weird, longhaired teacher or a nerd or the hippie fag. Let's see, there's geek...heard that one a lot and fuzzball, loved that one. Screwboy was the latest. Yup, a variety of names I've picked up. Should fill up the tombstone...Ha! That's right there won't be a tombstone, I'm just buzzard bait. Hope I don't poison them."

Jim heard the underlying pain of not fitting in. A feeling he could identify with uncomfortably easy. A clear memory of an old conversation came back to haunt him.

"That money is yours only because of your mother. I couldn't do anything about it." The angry male had rounded on the young man

"I'm sure you tried." Bitterness edged the teen's voice.

"An atrocity such as yourself shouldn't be free to go around. It could reflect poorly on the Ellison name."

Young Jim Ellison still found it difficult to believe that his father would wish to completely sever all ties.

But the words came out of his mouth, "I hope never to see you again. Don't try to contact Stephen. He isn't a freak and I don't want him tainted."

James Joseph Ellison took a last look at what had been home for eighteen years and left without a backward glance.

Jim shook himself out of the unwanted remembrance and once again followed the voice.

"She never knew how alone I was around all those people she hung with, sure, they loved her, but me? I was the tag-a-long that they just put up with. Some tried to hide it but most didn't and I knew. It was hard to be where no one really wanted you.

I tried to be needed, but that didn't really work until college. I did develop a knack for languages. Got me on a lot of expeditions. Could learn fast, so my talent was needed, not me, just my talent."

Jim could detect the sigh.

"Guess the silver lining is that no one will be hurt. No one suffers."

Jim could hear the rustle of a jacket. He couldn't tell if the man was taking it off or putting it on. Jim froze again as he heard a crunch, some cursing and moans of pain. Shit! And he hadn't a clue where the man was. He stayed motionless as he crushed the rock in his hand."

"Damn, shit! Oh, jeez, oh fuck, that's hurts," the man gingerly touched the knee that was swelling as he sat on the ground. "Oh, damn, I'm not gonna be able to travel well." He took a deep breath, "Fuck! This is all Kincaid's fault."

One Week Earlier

Anthropologist Blair Sandburg zippered up his tent after slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He jumped into the Land Rover and headed to the dig site. He was looking forward to his meeting with Jatu, the aboriginal representative for the Tunjaro tribe.

Blair felt that it was so fortunate that he was selected to be part of this dig. Usually, non-natives were barred from aboriginal sites, but the findings of this site could prove the native's claim that their people had been on site over twenty thousand years.

The carbon dating had not been able to establish the oldest date so they had to go to the more expensive dating procedure, radioactive half-life. The minerals in the soil would aid in the accuracy of the findings. Blair couldn't wait to share the results.

The findings were evidently more earth shattering than first expected for the dig financier was due to arrive this afternoon. Garrett Kincaid hardly ever showed up at the actual digs. His right hand man, Dawson Quinn, was usually the one that dealt with onsite situations.

Professor Hal Buckner was the department chair in Anthropology at Rainier University. This was his dig. This would also be his career maker. All of the students in attendance would be hot items when they returned. Fourteen months was a small price to pay for the long-term benefits working on a dig of this magnitude.

Blair's knack for languages made him one of the most requested team members. This dig proved to be no exception. He was the only one the Tunjaro tribe would deal with. The young anthropologist was the only one that had shown, by deed, that he truly understood their customs.

Jatu was as excited as Blair in the findings. The skeleton was over fifteen thousand years old, many teachings considered hearsay could now be reexamined. This was the culmination of the dig and Blair had been invited to participate in the Corroboree, the ancient aboriginal dance as part of the celebration.

Jatu helped the excited student paint himself. White dots ran up his sternum, around his shoulders, down his back to meet up once again on his chest. He also had matching dots on his face. Jatu couldn't help laughing, Blair was bouncing in his excitement. Blair was excited, very few non-aborigines were ever asked to participate.

In the native language, the men executed the ancient steps of the ritualistic dance that had been performed since the time of the dreaming.

Blair Sandburg's problems began the morning after.

Blair was summoned to the dig headquarters. There, Garrett Kincaid, Dawson Quinn and Hal Buckner waited for him. They wanted him to get an extension on the dig.

Blair shook his head no, "The tribal elders are very aware of the dig time frame. That was the only reason they agreed. It had to be done by mid-spring. They have festivals and celebrations to be held in that area. We aren't allowed there."

"Quit your whining, boy. It ain't up to the elders. We aren't done and that's final." Quinn got right into Sandburg's face, using his size to intimidate.

Blair wasn't and didn't back down. That was why he was here, his knowledge of the natives. "The dig is completed. All the university asked for was to excavate the one skeleton and date it. They allowed us to date the surrounding rocks only because it would help substantiate the date of the bones. They will not allow us to remain longer than our Friday exit date."

Kincaid stopped Quinn in the mid punch that was aimed at Sandburg's face. "Mr. Sandburg, I don't think you realize quite what you're refusing. My endowments fund most of the anthropological expeditions at Rainier. To piss me off would not be a good thing. I am sure you are aware of the many future expeditions planned and I can make sure that you are on each one, or I can make sure that you never participate again."

Blair hated being threatened, but he remained impassive as there was surely something else going on here. "I don't understand what else there is to do?"

Professor Buckner tried to placate the student with a half-truth. "On our specified site we have discovered a rich deposit of manganese. It alone will pay for the entire trip."

Blair said nothing, he was flabbergasted.

Kincaid mistook his silence for understanding and acceptance. "Even more importantly, we have almost positively identified a gold deposit but it's on the damn aboriginal protected lands. So we need to work this dig a few weeks more so we can mine both the gold and the manganese." Kincaid ran his hand down Blair's hair. "And you're just the man that will make this possible."

Blair stepped back, just out of reach of Kincaid's hand. He wanted nothing to do with this plan. The tribal elders wouldn't let them stay anyway, so Blair remained silent. "I will arrange to talk with Jatu, that is all I can do. Tomorrow morning, okay?" The grad student knew that still gave them one day to pack and vacate the dig site. He knew the outcome was a foregone conclusion.

"Fine, we will go with you. You can interpret." Quinn interjected, wishing his boss had let him hit the know-it-all student.

***

Loaded with his backpack containing all his notes regarding the dig, he met with the site leaders. Together they went to the actual dig site. Jatu was there, waiting for them.

Blair greeted him in the Tunjaro dialect. "Pretend you don't understand English. Just like greetings and stuff."

"Hello," Jatu said in English, then continued in Tunjaro, "You have a problem?"

Blair nodded as he turned to Kincaid. He indicated to him to begin.

"Does he understand English or is he another mindless native?" Quinn asked derisively.

"None, other than greetings." Hoping that Jatu would show no expression of understanding.

"Tell him we need a few more weeks to complete our data study." Kincaid directed.

In Tunjaro Blair said instead, "Jatu, do the elders know of the minerals on their land? Shake your head no, no matter the answer."

Doing as Blair asked, Jatu shook his head no as he answered, "Yes, it is a money source for us. Gold and Magnesium."

"Well, what did he say?" Quinn growled.

"He said that celebrations start Sunday, so you may stay until Saturday," Blair made up.

"Damn, no, that is not acceptable." Kincaid spit out.

"Fuckin' morons, do you think they know? That's why they want us gone." Dawson Quinn was ready to pull his gun.

Professor Buckner interceded before Blair could respond. "Quinn, if you checked the calendar, you'd see that summers festivals are planned all over Western Australia."

"Ask them how much money do they need to let us stay for two weeks?" Kincaid directed Blair to ask.

Blair turned toward his friend, "These guys are really starting to scare me. I'm sorry that these dickheads are even over here. At least you got the dating done."

"Not your fault, I know, so will the elders. I'm gonna make a few sounds, explain them as shock or something." Jatu threw back his head and wailed.

The startled men jumped back at the unexpected behavior. Three men looked to Blair for explanation.

"He has taken insult about his religion. The answer is still Saturday at the latest." Blair obfuscated.

Quinn went for his gun, Kincaid stayed his hand. Buckner frowned he hadn't signed on for murder. Blair backed up, looking for a way out.

Quinn whispered loudly at Kincaid, "We can kill them, it'll be several weeks before they miss either of them."

"The dark one, okay, I want Sandburg for myself," Kincaid ordered. His cock hardened at just thought of having that mouth on him.

Before Quinn could point his gun at Jatu, he was distracted by the large number of tribal warriors descending upon them. Spears in hand, the tribal men walked sedately but with purpose.

By Blair's count, there were at least a hundred of them. He rocked on the balls of his feet trying to eat the grin that wanted to split his face. Jatu was safe.

The warriors surrounded the site, spears at the ready. One of the men spoke to Jatu.

"We answer your call."

"There is danger to our new brother." Jatu could obfuscate with the best of them.

Blair turned to Kincaid, "They are ordering you off their lands. We must leave today for the insult to their people."

"No, damnit. We could force them," Quinn grabbed Blair by the hair and tugged him to his side.

No interpretation was needed. The aborigines understood the threat to their friend and raised their spears and shook them as they cried out.

Jatu spoke earnestly to Blair, "Little Brother, you are welcome here at anytime. Those others may never return. 'Til the road intersects."

Blair returned, "Hope they intersect soon. Thank you. I'll get these jerks out of here." Blair turned to Kincaid, "We must leave immediately or face their justice."

Kincaid and Buckner knew they were no match to a hundred plus warriors. Quinn wasn't above shooting as many as he could. Kincaid quelled all his actions. He motioned that they all get in and drive away.

As Quinn still had Blair by the hair, he pushed the grad student ahead of him to the jeep. Blair left without his backpack. He figured that he could retrieve it at a later date and his research notes were safe with Jatu.

***

Upon return to the camp, Blair planned on just heading out fast as he could as he had already broken his camp down. Before he could get away, Professor Buckner called him over.

"Blair about what we discussed earlier..." The professor was interrupted by Kincaid.

"You do remember how this can all backfire if you were to let word of this get out." Kincaid continued with his threat. "Future expeditions depend on your answer."

"You planned on using an educational opportunity for personal gain. That is the kind of stuff that gives us a bad name. Professor, you should be ashamed of yourself." Blair was ready to storm off.

Kincaid grabbed Blair and shoved him into his tent. He pushed the student against the table. He laid Blair over it and pressed his hard cock against his ass. "You treat me right and your future ticket is carte blanche." Kincaid rubbed himself along the crackline of Blair's jeans.

Blair hit Kincaid's knee with the heel of his foot and turned to shove the man away. "Get the fuck away from me."

"Don't go acting all self-righteous, your preferences are well known within the department. I can make them well known throughout the university." Kincaid lunged for the student again.

"You do what you want at school, just leave me the fuck alone." Blair was pissed and he edged toward the tent flap.

"So, you don't want to be my screwboy..." Kincaid stared hard at the student, "You'll regret that." He shoved Blair away from the tent door and yelled out for Quinn.

Quinn entered and enjoyed the fear that rested in the student's eyes.

"He wants to be left alone," Kincaid told his partner.

"He'll squeal as soon as he's away from here. We still can make a pretty penny and we can sneak back later for the rest," Quinn stated.

"Exactly my thoughts. He's too stupid to help himself. We can't allow him to fuck up our plans. So, grab a water bottle and throw him in the jeep." Kincaid grabbed his hat and sunglasses.

Quinn did as he was bid with glee.

With compass in hand, Kincaid and Quinn drove west into the Great Sandy Desert. Several hours later, Kincaid brought the vehicle to a stop. He looked back at the bound student. He let his fingers play with the wind blown hair.

"It's not too late to change your mind," Kincaid offered. He really wanted a piece of Sandburg. He would have forced Sandburg but for Quinn's presence; he kept that side of himself away from his crazy partner.

The student pulled back from the hand. "I will not be part of defrauding the Tunjaro," Blair stated emphatically.

"Fine, so be it. Get out." Kincaid motioned for Sandburg to get out of the jeep. Quinn helped him by tugging roughly then shoving him down. He drew back his arm to hit the grad student when Kincaid once again stopped him.

"Don't mark him up. When they do find his body, I don't want the authorities to think foul play. Leave the bottle of water. It'll take more days than he's got water to get out of here." Kincaid directed as he started the jeep engine.

"Why leave him any water at all?" Quinn demanded.

"Because, dipshit, we don't want his death to look suspicious. If they found him without a waterbottle, that would look odd. Just shut up and get in the jeep."

Quinn kicked some dirt on the sitting Sandburg, "Tell you this, you hippie freak, I'm so glad I don't have to listen to any of your stupid stories again. You are the most boring piece of shit I've ever had to work with. A-di-os!" Quinn sat in the left front passenger seat and laughed as Kincaid drove away.

Blair sat there dumbfounded. He was being left to die in the middle of the outback. Who was going to look for him? Jatu expected him to be leaving tomorrow. Buckner would lie to the rest of the team and he wasn't scheduled to teach another class until July, summer back in the states. "Damn, I'm gonna die." Blair got up and started walking.

***

The bitter recollection didn't improve as his memory replayed the last week. "Damn, Kincaid. Damn my knee. Now I can't walk anymore tonight." Blair was pissed. He hobbled over to one of the larger shrubs, unfurled the jacket he had tied around his waist and covered the bush with it. He took a sip of water as he rolled himself under his cover. He tried just thinking to himself but with a frustrated sound said aloud, "At least if I talk out loud, it's not so lonely."

Jim found himself relieved that the student started talking again. He couldn't get a true fix on his location yet, he figured he was still too far away. He prodded his horse along trying to hit the general direction. Just guessing, the Outback officer estimated that the man was an easy hundred miles away. It was only the ability of sound waves to travel better in the night air that allowed Jim to hear him this far away.

Reassured that the kid was still muttering aloud, Jim reluctantly pulled his cell phone from his saddlebag. He punched the autodial, number one, and held the phone only halfway to his ear. It was even an hour later where his boss lived in Alice Springs.

"Banks," the growl came loudly over the line.

"Ellison, here, Captain. I have a situation."

"Damn well better be important," Captain Simon Banks groused even though he knew that Jim Ellison rarely ever called unless it was.

"Have a lost man somewhere in the vicinities of the Great Sandy and the Gibson, sir. I'm requesting air support for sunrise." Jim's voice was official and by the book.

"Shit, Ellison, don't you watch the news?" Simon came across exasperated.

"Not recently, sir."

"New South Wales has had brush fires consume half the state, they're now threatening the populated areas. The whole country has sent their aircraft. I won't be able to get one back here 'til Saturday at the earliest. Who reported it?"

Jim could hear Simon rub his face with his hands.

"Captain, I can hear him talking to himself. I can't get a fix on his location, just a general direction. It'll be hot out there in the daytime. I don't think he's equipped for that. It sounds liked he was left there."

"On purpose? Shit! What are you planning?" Simon learned early on it was better to just ask than direct. His Outback man knew that area better than anyone else.

"Plan to track him with my hearing as long as I can. At daybreak, I'll get the jeep and drive into that area of the desert and wait until night. I don't think this kid can stay quiet. It's the best I can do until air support can fly the area."

"Keep me posted. I'll put in the plane request as soon as we're done." The Captain was putting on his glasses and his slippers.

"I'll call in the morning, sir. Sorry about waking you."

Simon smiled, "No you're not." Jim could hear the head shake. "Goodnight, Officer." Banks disconnected the line.

Jim folded the phone and replaced it in his saddlebag. He reached out with his hearing again. He located the mutterings with ease. He wasn't moving at all. Possibly he made camp for the night. Jim had no idea what the man had with him other than a liquid of some kind and a jacket. He had made out those two items as the kid had fiddled with them.

He fixed his hearing more sharply and could make out the words.

"I'll check for edible plants in the morning, here's hoping that my knee goes down. Can't waste what little water I have left."

Jim stretched his hearing further as the kid took to whispering.

"Never found a sentinel, either. Never gave up even though my advisor wanted me to. Knew Burton was right, just didn't connect. So he won't be missing me either."

Jim heard the pain beneath the words, that aloneness was something he could truly identify with. The mutterings stopped altogether and Jim couldn't pick up anything, so he stretched his hearing as far as he could.

A strange sound pulled at him and he felt a need to follow it, as it got louder - then too loud, Jim shook his head to rid himself of it.

His horse was acting restless, stomping one leg while making little huffing sounds. Jim focused on his watch, "Shit, forty-five minutes have passed in a blank out." Jim was mad at himself. He did a hearing search and found the odd sound that he recognized, he had followed it before. The sound reminded him of a metronome. No, a heart beat. Well, damn, he could hear that stranger's heart beat. He cocked his head to the side and was satisfied, the kid was sleeping.

He turned Tank toward home and urged him to a canter. A couple of hours of sleep and he'd head out at daybreak.

***

Officer Ellison checked the thermostat on the stable garage before he opened the paddock. This way Tank could come and go as he pleased. He left enough food and water for several days. Jim wasn't returning until he found his man.

Jim loaded the jeep with first aid supplies and camping equipment. He took the cellphone and its charger. He loaded double the water he'd need. He now felt prepared.

At daybreak, Ellison woke without an alarm. The first thing he did was reach out his hearing. He located, without trouble, the steady cadence of the heartbeat. Still sleeping.

Jim knew as the day progressed he would lose the hearing range that he had at night. With his heavy duty sun glasses in place, Ellison headed into the heart of his territory.

The police officer smiled at his own whimsy, his territory. His territory was roughly twelve hundred square kilometers or seven hundred and fifty square miles, give or take a few detours. Outside Marble Bar, across in an easterly direction to just twenty miles outside Tennant Creek. From there, straight down to Coober Pedy, then back across the Great Victoria Desert to Leonora or close to it. Finally, straight back up to Marble Bar. More of a rectangle than a square. His area included parts of three different states. Western Australia, South Australia and the Northern Territory. So, the Aboriginal Reserve and Uluru fell into his jurisdiction as well. Jim knew that pretty much he was saddled with the desert region of the country, which was perfect for him. Very few people lived here and even less visited. If it was outside a populated area, it was his.

His fellow officers had the semi-populated areas. They were closer to the small towns. They were still way too busy for Ellison.

Megan Connor and Brian Rafe were Aussies. Brian had requested this branch of law enforcement. Connor, on the other hand, was transferred here as a disciplinary action. She ended up finding her niche, she found she could kick butt and not get in trouble.

Simon Banks, his captain and friend, as much as he had any. Simon also saved his sanity.

They served together on two different crossover missions while in the military. They had spent a lot of long nights in foxholes with not much else to do but talk. When they parted, before Jim's Peru mission, Banks had told him to look him up state side. They lived in the same city. Simon was planning on entering law enforcement and told Jim he could use a man like him.

Simon had returned home to Cascade, Washington, got married and became a successful police officer. That, of course, doomed his marriage.

His now ex-wife, Joan, got remarried to an Australian. She petitioned the court and got permission to take their son, Daryl, out of the country until he was fifteen.

Simon, when faced with the prospect of only seeing his son once a year for the next seven years, opted instead to relocate to Australia. A move his ex wasn't too thrilled about but couldn't legally object to. She might be relocating herself, but the custody agreement was still in effect until Daryl was a major. Simon made sure that his visitation was the same after the move DownUnder.

Simon had no problem immigrating. The Australian Government was pleased to accept a trained policeman into their country on a permanent basis.

Joan and Daryl lived in Darwin, so that was where Simon chose to live. He was a lieutenant when he left Cascade, but in Darwin, he had to be part of the rank and file.

His leadership and detecting skills did not go unnoticed and he promoted up the line. When the captain's position opened up for the OutBack division, Simon's commander put him in for it.

Banks had only been at it a few months when he heard from his army buddy, Joel Taggert. A bomb scare gone array had Joel reevaluating his choices. Simon offered him a job.

Joel Taggert flew across the big blue sea and never looked back.

Henri Brown was originally stationed at Perth. He met Simon and Joel while on a fishing trip. At the end of his tour, he didn't want to uproot his wife and daughter and return to the States, so he put in a call to Captain Banks and found himself employed.

His own story was different, yet similar to Taggert's.

After his eighteen months of solitary duty in Peru, Special Ops Ranger Ellison opted for the honorable discharge. He headed home to Cascade, only it didn't feel like home when he arrived. No place he had ever been had felt like home, so he was open to options. He had taken his father at his word and never contacted him.

In a few dark, honest moments, Jim admitted to himself, that after his rescue, he had expected a word or something from his only parent. But that was not the case. Nothing, not a word from either his father or brother.

He had tried to look up Simon Banks, only to learn that he had moved to Australia.

In the three months that followed his return from Peru, Jim had found only discomfort in city living. Sight and sound were almost painful in the crowded environment and for his sanity alone, he needed a more remote lifestyle. Jim figured it was a result from his extended time in the jungle.

Captain Ellison's return to Cascade did not go unheralded. The Mayor requested lunch with their local military hero. It was during that lunch that Jim found his answer.

The Mayor discovered that they shared a mutual friend in Simon Banks. Mayor Dickson filled in the ex-Ranger on Simon's change of venue. After finding out that Jim planned on moving to a more remote area, he gave Jim Simon's number.

In a weak moment of confusion, Jim Ellison called Simon Banks.

Simon remembered him and eagerly offered him a job. Simon had changed the face of the Outback Police and an ex-army Ranger would only benefit his team.

When Jim Ellison arrived, he thought it only fair that he share the odd sensory periods that he experienced. Hearing and seeing more than others could was helpful to a law enforcer. Sometimes smell kicked in too, but not with regularity. The remote area appealed to Jim and Simon had a complete team. Twenty-five officers total and no one wanted the desert realm except Jim.

The gruff man became a favorite for just that reason. But in actuality, no one knew Jim Ellison. He was a loner. He was aloof. He didn't mix. Only showed up at headquarters when forced. No one connected with him. Not even Simon who knew him the best.

***

The first two hours of the drive, Jim did see a few birds. By mid-day there was no life detectable from the jeep, but the air was still full of enough sound to hinder his ability to find the student.

It was days like this that Jim missed the massive freeway systems of the US. He wished that he could travel ninety miles an hour, but the rural roads did not afford him that luxury. Fifty was pushing it in most areas. Thirty to thirty-five was the average speed and that was frustrating the hell out of Jim. So all he had to show for almost twelve hours of driving was about three hundred plus miles. He was afraid to go too much further because he didn't want to over shoot the kid.

Ellison had talked with the Captain just after starting out and he confirmed that an aircraft wouldn't be available till past mid-day tomorrow. Even the Royal Flying Doctor Service was unavailable. Jim knew that if he could get to him, he could save his life. It was just the getting there.

***

Blair slept until almost noon. By then the heat was so unbearable that even under his makeshift tent, he could find no relief. The worst part of the day was mid-afternoon, the bush he had taken shelter under could no longer provide shade. The angle of the sun had it hitting him directly so Blair decided to move on, in an easterly direction, back the way he thought he traveled. Sometimes, directions weren't his strong suit.

He tied his jacket about his head, took a sip of his water and started out. His knee was hurting bad and that made his pace slow. He didn't talk aloud like yesterday, his mouth was very dry and he kept taking little sips of water to help him swallow. He missed his backpack. In it, he not only had some food, he had chapstick. His lips were killing him. He laughed at himself close to nightfall, at least the pain in his knee helped him forget how miserable his lips were.

Just before dusk, the grad student found an edible plant. Saltbush. It did have a slightly salty flavor, but it was okay to munch on and Blair ate enough to stop the hunger pangs. He took another swallow of water to wash away the aftertaste and realized that he really only had one swallow left.

The food, water and cooler air as the sun set, rejuvenated the anthropology student and he started another soliloquy.

The man checking the twilight from atop his gas cans was relieved to hear the man's voice. The sound washed over him and Jim didn't realize until he felt the tension drain away how worried he had been all day.

As the kid started talking, Jim didn't have to work as hard to hear him. He stilled himself to get a good fix. He wanted to do some night tracking. The student started talking to Naomi again. She must be his girlfriend.

"Naomi, I don't really want to detach with love here. I've never been able to do it like you can. But I wanted the chance to find love, I can't detach unless I've had it. Yeah, it's true, I've never really been in love. Lust, yeah, but not the big L. Now it looks like I won't get my chance." Blair stopped to readjust his belt. He had loosened it earlier and now that he cooled off some he made it tighter again.

Jim could tell that he had traveled in the right direction. The man was still north of him and maybe a tad to the west. With the windows down, Jim drove in the direction of the voice.

"Naomi, I know you were proud of me when I was selected for the Kenya trip. Youngest grad student to ever be selected, but I really wished you had been there to see me off, or greet me on my return. Most of the others had a parent or two, but it was always just me, by myself. I never did mention that I ran into a bit of trouble there with one of the tribes. I got lost and ended up with the wrong tribe. Well, they were all set to kill me when I befriended a chimpanzee. He reminded me so much of Larry, I just kinda treated him the same. Well, the tribal chief was so amazed that he spared my life." A chuckle escaped the young man, "Ended up I was the only one that got to spend any real time with those people. I wrote two different papers about them."

Blair kept up the even, small steps that now contained a limp. He picked up a few pebbles to rub in his hand.

The policeman tracking the voice ceased driving when the voice paused. He waited for another few minutes after the man resumed speaking before driving onward. He listened to every word the grad student was saying.

"Naomi, you don't know how much I wanted you with me after I returned from South America. I was sick and could have used a little TLC. My advisor tried to reach you and found you were at one of your retreats. Each time the advisor would come over to me and say, 'I'm sorry, Blair.' How come you're never there when I need you? I've always been there when you needed me. I could use you right now, Mom, so I wouldn't be all alone." The heavy sigh was easily heard, then a whisper, "I really don't want to die alone."

Jim became even more determined to find and save this man. On every level, both conscious and unconscious, Jim could feel the loneliness. He understood it. He had lived it. The loneliness of his adolescent years shaped the man he became. He had learned to accept and function within the loneliness, but this young man should not have to. And now he had a name, Blair.

Jim worked at triangulating the voice. The kid just didn't seem to know that being quiet would keep his mouth wetter. He talked to the bats, to the shrubs, even to the rocks. He listened as he exclaimed with glee as he saw a red kangaroo. The lizards were met with equal awe.

By three am, Blair stopped walking and closed himself down for the night. He placed the pebbles in his mouth. His tongue working about them helped create saliva. He knew he only had one sip of water left.

Sad, exhausted and alone, Blair fell asleep.

Across the desert, Jim, too, readied himself for sleep. He planned to be up at daybreak and he knew that the following day would be imperative to that young man's life. He searched and located the specific cadence of a heartbeat that he could hear hundreds of miles away.

***

Blair woke thirsty. He gulped down his water, needing the feel of the liquid running down his throat. He planned on keeping his mouth shut and walking as fast as his legs would work, pain or no pain. He had to locate some water. He just had no clue where it might be found.

By mid-morning the hot sun was baking the desert and Blair was feeling cramps in his legs. He tried to straighten them as he walked, standing on his tiptoes, but he found that wasn't helping any. His lips were driving him nuts, they were so very dry. He tried to lick them, but he found he was short the saliva to do that. By noon, straight up, Blair wasn't feeling very good. He was exhausted and he hadn't yet walked very far. He stopped completely when he began feeling nauseous. He covered his face with his jacket as he laid down.

Blair knew he would get worse because of the heat and lack of water. Hallucinations meant he was close to death. He knew he was hallucinating because why else would he see an American gray wolf in the middle of the Australian desert?

It was odd to Blair because the wolf seemed perfectly content to be trotting on the hot sand. The animal drew closer and Blair found he wasn't afraid. He didn't think delusions could hurt one. He was surprised though, when he felt the weight of the canine rest against his body. He was even more surprised when his body temperature seem to cool a little bit. Blair threaded his fingers through the soft fur as he rested his head against the wolf's mid-section.

***

A panther's roar woke the bush officer. He shook his head to clear the dream away. That sound was from the Peruvian jungle. It brought memories of the shaman and his stories. He just couldn't remember what the panther meant.

It would be light soon and Jim decided that he should get a move on before Blair started for the day. He checked for the heart sound and found it without much trouble. His hearing seemed to be cooperating and worked at will.

The officer rolled up his sleeping bag and packed away the only thing he had taken out of the jeep last night. After relieving himself, he was ready for the road. He headed out in the direction the sound came in the strongest. He ate the last of the sandwiches he packed and drank from the bottle of open water he had going in the truck.

By mid-day, Jim was urgent in his desire to find the lost Blair. His heart rate was rapid but weak and Jim was afraid of heat exhaustion and feared even more, the dreaded heat stroke. There wasn't much time after the onset of the final stage.

He took the road at a much faster pace than was safe for him or the vehicle, but he knew that Blair's life was at stake. He pulled his cellphone from its charger and hit the autodial.

"Banks."

"Simon, I need that plane. Blair is exhibiting signs of heat exhaustion and he won't have much time if he isn't attended soon." Jim's voice was terse and demanding.

"When did you get to him? And why didn't you call?" Simon held his hand over the phone as he requested an ETA for the medical plane.

"I haven't reached him yet, Simon. I'm just monitoring his vital signs. I'm close though."

"Shit! Jim. Where are you?" Simon thought his friend's hearing was spooky.

"West of Mount Destruction. Northern part of the Gibson, have the plane start there. Tell the pilot I'm on channel 7."

"Medical plane said just under two hours. We're short planes, Jim." Banks told his officer, his regret echoed in his voice.

"Understood." Jim closed his cell, frustrated.

Jim put on his Jags cap as he went around to the front of his vehicle. He centered himself for complete silence, reminiscent of his covert op days. He listened for his man, this time it wasn't an enemy, but the man he was trying to save. He reached a quiet level where he could almost see the direction he should travel. As in the past, each time he achieved this level of concentration he saw the black panther. He hadn't seen it since Peru, but he understood its message. Follow.

Focused on the dwindling heartbeat, Jim drove off the makeshift road and across the open expense. If he veered either right or left, usually to avoid a bush, he would catch a shadow of black. It would disappear as he righted his course.

One hour later the heartbeat was pounding in his ear. He stopped, grabbed his binoculars and jumped on the hood of his jeep. He searched the wide, open area that really looked bleached in the full sun. He utilized his own vision along with the aid of the binoculars. He knew he had found Blair when he spotted the panther alongside a dog. No, a wolf.

He was puzzled, did the kid have a dog with him? Regardless, he got back in the jeep and drove directly to Blair.

He radioed his position to the aircraft as he parked close enough to give a bit of shade. The panther backed away with out a sound. The wolf backed away without a sound. Jim turned to look and both animals were gone. He could dwell later on their presence and bent to attend to Blair.

He checked the carotid pulse point first as he had been trained in the army. He found a pulse, weak but still there. The skin was dry and hot to the touch and Jim knew that heat stroke was already occurring.

The simplest and most effective method to treat this in the field was to remove all non-cotton clothing and soak the victim with water, fanning to increase the rate of evaporation, and massaging extremities to encourage the return of cool blood to the core. With a limited supply of water, cooling the head and neck becomes the top priority.

Jim picked up the kid and laid him in the back of his jeep. He had the air conditioner going. On the back seat he took his cotton blanket, laid it out and dumped two bottles of water on it, soaking it thoroughly. He picked Blair up and rested him atop the wet blanket. He removed his jeans and jacket. He left on his boxers and tee shirt as they were made of cotton. He got another bottle of water and poured it all over the young man. He used his clipboard to fan, creating evaporation.

He continued to pour water on the thick expanse of hair and let the water pool around his neck. He was rewarded with murmurings. Jim knew that Blair was not coherent enough to drink fluids, so he kept pouring the water on his body.

The plane radioed that they saw his vehicle and were landing close by.

"Patient is alive but suffering heat stroke." Jim radioed back. He wanted them to bring the right IV. Jim wanted this man to live. He didn't even know him, but listening to his rambling thoughts and loneliness the last two nights, Jim felt closer to this stranger then he did to most people he knew.

The medics on the plane injected an electrolyte-Ringers mixture. Jim helped transport him and climbed on aboard after him.

"What of your vehicle, Officer?" The pilot asked.

"No one out there to strip it, so I think it'll be okay." Jim almost cracked a smile at the look on the pilot's face. It was plain to read, crazy yank.

The medics radioed the hospital and administered to their patient as they were told. They seemed pleased that his core temperature had dropped into the safe range. Jim was relieved, too.

The pilot radioed Captain Banks and gave his hospital ETA of an hour ten to set down. Banks sent the message that he'd meet them there.

Jim took the time to actually look at the man he saved. He really did look like a kid. Jim remembered the kid's ramblings that he mentioned that he was a grad student so he had to be older than he looked. Shoulder length brown curls that the medics tied back to keep it out of the way. He didn't appear to be much taller than five foot, seven inches. Jim took a moment to laugh at himself, living in Australia for five plus years and he still couldn't think measurements in metric. He carried a converter table for all his reports.

The chest was fairly muscular, but he wasn't buff. All in all, not bad looking. Jim recalled more of the self conversations and recollected that Blair had stated that he had been left there to die on purpose. They would need to set up protection. He flipped open the wallet the medics had taken out of his pants and checked the ID. Blair Sandburg, age 27. Jim looked down at the unconscious man and thought to himself that he looked a lot younger.

The plane landed and the medical personnel rushed out to receive their newest patient and Jim could only watch them go. He walked behind them in to the emergency hospital. Simon was standing outside puffing on a cigar.

"Report, Ellison." The command was in the tone.

"Blair Sandburg, a grad student, was left in the desert on purpose. He is suffering from heat stroke. The medics feel that they do have his temperature under control." Jim cocked his head to the side and listened before he continued with his report. "His heart rate is back to normal."

Simon was always spooked when he watched his officer do that. He had been witness to its accuracy often enough in the past that he didn't doubt the man's word. It was still eerie, though.

"Good to hear that last part. Let's put a man on his room and..."

Jim interrupted, "I'll do that, sir. I started this and I wish to see it to the end."

Simon was a little startled by the request, but as he didn't have anyone handy at the moment, he agreed to Ellison's request. He nodded, "I'll be back later this evening." He headed back to headquarters. He was hoping to catch dinner with his son.

Jim went inside the hospital and waited just outside the room that held Blair.

***

Dawson Quinn rushed into the hotel bar. He located his boss and headed straight for him. As soon as he got close enough he blurted out, "We've got a problem."

The sandy blonde man pushed a chair out with his foot, "Sit down. Keep your voice down and tell me what it is," Kincaid replied calmly.

"Sandburg's alive."

"Well, shit! How'd that happen? Where is he? We have to alter that," Kincaid shot back.

"I heard the call over the scanner," Quinn answered.

Kincaid thought to himself that finally Dawson's obsession with listening to those things might come in very handy. He nodded with his head for the man to continue.

"He was airlifted out of the desert and flown directly to the hospital in Alice Springs. He was still unconscious, suffering from heatstroke." Quinn finished his report.

"Well, we'll just have to charter a plane and take care of this." Kincaid stood up and threw an Australian fifty on the table. He led Quinn out of the hotel.

***

Blair Sandburg woke up because the incessant beeping was driving him nuts. "Okay, okay, turn it off. I'll get up." Blair stretched out his hand searching for the alarm clock.

"Blair, it's okay. You're safe. But I can't turn off the sound. It's the heart monitor." Jim stood at the side of the bed. He had unconsciously called the man by his first name. After listening to his private words, Jim felt unusually familiar with the man.

Blair didn't know the voice. He liked the voice, he just didn't know it. His eyes felt heavy so he decided to keep them closed just a bit longer. Okay, what did he remember? Jatu, Kincaid, the desert. Oh shit!

Jim heard the heart rate increase before the monitor picked it up. "You're safe. Calm down." Jim tried to keep his voice even, striving for tranquil.

Again, to Blair, the voice was pleasant. He tried his own, with far worse effects. "Thirsty." It sounded more like a croak to his own ears. He found a small piece of ice placed on his tongue. Nirvana.

"Do you want more?" Jim asked after a few seconds. A nod had him placing another ice chip in the man's mouth.

"Thanks," a raspy voice tried to be heard.

"Shhhh, I'll give a few more 'til the doc comes in. They're on their way now." Jim could hear the nurse alert the doctor on duty.

"Lip," Blair began before his throat dried up.

Jim dipped his hand into his pocket and removed the chapstick that he had bought at the hospital gift shop. He took off the plastic wrap and coated the man's lips.

"Thanks," was rasped out again, "How'd ya know?" Blair forced his eyes open. He saw a police type figure with the warmest blue eyes.

"You'd been in the sun a long time, only logical." Jim replied in his succinct manner.

"I was left there to die," Blair began but was interrupted by the medical staff.

Jim nodded his understanding before he was pushed out of the room. He stood guard at the door.

Simon reappeared as the medical personnel vacated the room. The doctor stopped when he saw the officers.

"The patient was mumbling about being left to die. He's asleep again, and will be for a while. He will recover. We need to replenish his electrolytes. His knee is twisted but will mend if he stays off of it for a few days. He should be good to go in about three days." The doctor was distracted by one of the nurses. She hailed him over. He conferred with her, then he returned to the officers. "The hospital is concerned about the expenses. He is an American and the American University contact said that he was fired from the university and they will not cover the cost. In light of this he will have to be moved to indigent section."

Jim bristled at the callous way the hospital was willing to treat a foreigner to their country. "I'll cover it."

"Jim?" Simon started.

The doctor handed the paperwork to him and pointed to the registration desk. He left to attend another patient.

Simon stayed Jim with a hand, "You can't afford this, Jim. Not on a cop's salary."

"We don't know the whole story. He's getting the care he needs. I can afford it if I have to." That was all Jim had to say on the matter. He turned and headed to the registration desk.

Simon stared after his enigmatic friend.

***

Two hours later, Jim was back in Blair's room. He heard the increased heart rate and stepped inside.

Blair's flew open when he heard someone enter. He relaxed when he saw the same officer that had been in the room before. "Did I hear right when you were in here last?"

Jim was surprised that this would be the first question out of the man's mouth. "What did you hear?"

Blair tried to smile, "I did! You sound American. You're a cop, right?" Blair frowned, maybe he was with the university or Kincaid. But the blue eyes were warm before, he remembered that, Blair was confused.

Jim heard the worry and answered the questions, "I sound American because I am American. I am a cop. I'm with the Outback Police. I found you out there and we flew you into Alice Springs. Can you tell me what happened?"

Relief flooded through Blair. He wasn't dead and maybe he had a chance. "My name is Blair Sandburg. I'm a grad student in anthropology from Rainier University in Washington State. The university sent a team to an area just outside Mount Destruction. It was on the Aboriginal Reserve side. We were there with the elder's permission. When we finished, the dig financier demanded that I arrange for them to stay longer. Permission was denied. Kincaid wanted to steal gold. I wouldn't help so he and the dig manager took me out to the middle of the desert and left me there. They were hoping I'd die out there." Blair stopped and smiled, "Guess you ruined their plans."

Jim tried to follow the whole explanation, he figured that the kid really never did take a breath. Jim took out a notepad from his pocket as he asked a few questions. "First, I need the names of those who left you to die."

"Garrett Kincaid, the money man. Dawson Quinn, the dig manager and Professor Hal Buckner. He spearheaded the project."

Jim jotted the names down then asked, "You mentioned a plan to steal gold. Off the reserve?" This was in the scope of his jurisdiction, also.

"I dealt directly with the Tunjaro tribe. My contact was Jatu. You can get him to back what I'm saying. I had him pretend he didn't understand English so he heard a lot of the plans." Blair wanted this cop to believe him and not think he was just talking some wild story. "Kincaid purposely left me a bottle of water so it wouldn't look like foul play when my dead body was eventually found." He stopped and looked up at the policeman, "Officer, do you still have that chapstick?"

Jim nodded and handed the stick to man. "Ellison. Jim Ellison."

"Thanks, Jim." Blair generously coated his lips with the plain flavored lip balm.

Jim nodded, "About the gold?"

"We were there to dig up a body..."

"There is a dead body? Was it reported?" Jim asked quickly before Blair got sidetracked again.

"Well, yeah, but like he was old, man, really old." Blair explained.

"Still, that doesn't mean you shouldn't report it..."

Blair broke in, "He was at least fifteen thousand years old."

Jim sighed, "Okay, that's a little before my time."

"That was a joke, right?" Blair looked expectantly at the officer. He wasn't cracking a smile, so he couldn't be sure.

Jim rolled his eyes. "The gold?"

"Okay. We were there to dig up and date the bones. It's so cool, man, those bones can prove some of the aboriginal history that was..." Blair paused at the look on Jim Ellison's face. "Well, anyway, we finished and we were suppose to pack up and leave on Friday. Hey, what day is it anyway?"

Jim wasn't sure he'd ever get the report. "Sunday. You were picked up yesterday."

"Wow, seemed like I was out there longer." Blair remembered how he thought he was going to die.

Jim brought him back to topic, "You were leaving Friday?"

"The permit ended on Friday. The Tunjaro were having celebrations on Sunday, so we had to leave. Only Kincaid came and demanded that I ask for an extension on the permit. They went with me. That was when I told Jatu to pretend not to know English." Blair paused and took a drink of water and looked at the large man sitting next to his bed. He was easy to look at and his eyes were so warm.

"Is this Jatu all right?" Jim asked as a way to get Blair on subject again. The student obviously had no problem talking. It was just difficult keeping him on topic.

"Yeah, yeah, he's fine man. While I was translating, Quinn and Kincaid talked freely about digging up a manganese deposit and then they mentioned the gold. The Tunjaro already know about it, but Kincaid still plans on stealing it. Kincaid threatened my future at the university and then planned on killing Jatu. Jatu called for his tribe and they all came. What a sight, over a hundred tribal warriors, spears in hand. So cool. If only I stayed with them. But Kincaid forced me to go with him." Blair stopped as he remembered what else Kincaid wanted.

Jim could smell fear. Wow! Scent hadn't been so clear in a long time. Now he could clearly smell Blair's fear.

"Mr. Sandburg, you're safe now."

"Blair, please call me Blair. I feel safe with you here. No, I was remembering that Kincaid threatened me. When I wouldn't go along, he and Quinn drove me to the desert. There I walked mostly by night. I saw a kangaroo. That was cool. Jim, thanks for finding me." The last was said very seriously.

"That's my job, finding lost Americans out looking at kangaroos."

Blair smiled. He thought that Jim was attempting humor and he wanted to encourage him.

Jim turned toward the door just before it opened to admit a dark man in uniform. Jim stood straighter as his captain entered. Blair was waiting for Jim to salute, but he didn't.

"Captain, this is Blair Sandburg. Blair, this is Captain Banks." Jim made the introductions. Jim gave a short but concise recount of Blair's ordeal.

Simon looked to Blair, "Mr. Sandburg, are you willing to press charges?"

"Absolutely." Blair answered without reservation.

Simon nodded and indicated that he wished to speak with Jim in the hall. The two men excused themselves and stepped outside. Jim led the two of them to the coffee room. He kept one ear all the time on Blair's room.

Simon took the coffee and sat down. "Jim, I called Rainier University. They said that Sandburg had been fired due to unbecoming conduct. He's known to be gay and it was said that he tried to seduce his professor."

Jim remembered the fear and wondered what Sandburg hadn't told him. "Simon, when Sandburg told me all that had happened, his heart rate didn't fluctuate. He was telling the truth."

"You're a lie detector, now?" Simon asked, not sure if he wanted to know or not.

"Sir, a lie-detector machine reads if there is a deviation in heart rhythm. Well, so can I. Also, I can smell when the fear level rises. None of that happened with Blair. He was fearful when you first entered, likewise when I first entered. Also, one time when he spoke of Kincaid."

"Garrett Kincaid has some big bucks to back him. He IS the endowment fund for the entire anthropology department." Simon paused as he glanced down at his notepad. "Rainier's itinerary has Quinn and the dig team booked in Darwin until Tuesday. I had the local police check, Kincaid, Quinn and Buckner have all checked out. The rest of the team were unaware that the dig leaders were gone." Simon stopped as he watched his officer freeze in his spot. His head was cocked to the side, then he ran back into the hospital.

Jim yelled over his shoulder, "Someone is going after Blair."

As Jim burst into the room he saw a man in a white lab coat at the IV juncture. The man whirled and rushed the door pushing the bed awry. Jim saw the introduced liquid heading for the entrance catheter and decided to attend that over chasing the assassin. He yanked the tubing out of Sandburg's wrist and the fluids ran onto the floor.

The machine's beeped like crazy and Simon burst into the room.

"Man, 5' 7", white lab coat, tried to kill Sandburg." Jim shouted without turning his head. He visually inspected Blair's wrist looking for any signs that the poison entered. He kept tab on his vitals, checking for any new anomalies.

The medical staff rushed in only to be bellowed at. "Freeze."

The commanding tone had all staff following the order.

"This room is now a crime scene. We need to collect samples of the fluids on the floor. Someone tried to poison the patient. One person can walk around the perimeter to check Sandburg, but the rest will have to vacate until a team releases the room." Jim spoke with the practiced authority of his military training.

"Now, see here, this is a hospital..." the doctor began.

"Yes, one with little or no security and one that was willing to kick out this patient. I repeat, this is a crime scene and we have the authority to dictate procedure." Jim's voice booked no argument.

Simon reentered on Ellison's last sentence and confirmed his authority.

Nurse Somerall finished her exam of the patient as everyone else argued. She spoke to the room, "Mr. Sandburg is fine. He will need to resume intravenous electrolytes for another forty-eight hours. We will need to move him to another room."

The hospital staff nodded and left to prepare another room. The doctor left in a huff and the nurse waited for the policeman to let her go.

Jim softened as he spoke to her, "Thank you. If you tell me which room, I'll bring him over."

She nodded, "As soon as a new bed is prepared." She walked out wondering why all the strong men were taken.

Jim looked to Simon, who shook his head in the negative. "He got away. I've called in Connor and Taggert as back up. Crime lab will be here in thirty minutes. We will need to keep the witness under twenty-four hour guard." Simon lowered his voice, "Jim, that means the department will pick up the hospital costs."

Jim nodded his thanks, but he hadn't been worried about it.

Blair spoke for the first time since all hell broke loose. "The man was Dawson Quinn. He didn't know I woke up and saw him before he left."

Simon turned to the man lying in the bed, "You're sure about that?"

"Yes, sir. I've worked with him several times over the last four years. He was the dig manager." Blair's voice was firm.

The nurse returned and motioned that they had a new room set up. Despite protests from the patient, Jim picked up said patient and ignored all of his rantings. He deposited the man into the new bed and released him to the care of Nurse Somerall. She reaffixed his IV's and did a follow up exam. Satisfied, she left.

Blair wanted to protest some more but found himself too exhausted and slipped into a peaceful sleep.

Simon spoke in a low voice, "This Quinn fellow was pretty bold in his attempt to silence him. We must assume they will try again. I've also called in Brown. He'll arrive this evening."

Jim made as if he would continue to guard.

Simon shook his head and turned to his officer, "Jim, you need to get some rest. I'll stay here, inside the room. You go get some sleep and a shower." He handed Jim a key and a bag. "To the doctor's lounge, from Nurse Somerall, and a clean uniform. Taggert and Connor will be here in two hours."

Jim hesitated, "With this attempt to silence him, sir, we need to believe that all he told us is true. That the university is covering for Kincaid because of his money." A concept he learned well because of his father.

With one brow raised, Simon asked, "Well, whose word are they going to take? That of a long haired student or a well respected businessman. A pillar of the community?"

"Simon?" Jim's concern over what his boss believed was almost discernable in the emotional mask that the officer always wore.

"Jim, I believe the kid." Simon watched as Jim relaxed. "Rest now. That's an order." Simon smiled to take the sting out.

"Fine, sir." Jim nodded and after a last check of the patient's heartbeat, Jim left and headed to the lounge.

***

Blair woke to find that he recognized one of the three people in his room. The Police Captain he knew but the woman and other dark man were strangers. He looked all about the room, searching for the cop with blue eyes.

Banks realized as he watched the student search the room, who he was looking for. "Officer Ellison is getting some rest. He'll be back later. With me I have Officers Connor and Taggert."

Joel spoke up first, "Hi, Blair," and added a smile to his greeting.

Connor followed with, "G-day, Mate."

"Love your accent," Blair tried to smile.

"Well, mate, don't know how to break it to ya, but you're the one with an accent." Connor laughed at her own observation.

Enjoying the teasing, Blair continued, "Not in this room."

Megan Connor shrugged good-naturedly; he had her there.

The medical staff entered and shooed them out. The three police personnel stood guard at the door.

Joel took the opportunity to share some of his research, "Kincaid has some nefarious connections."

"Underworld?" Simon inquired.

"No, some very exclusive fences. The kind that caters only in elusive, high risk merchandise. He has also been seen in the company of some European arms dealers."

"Our pillar may not be so pristine, after all," Simon concluded. Although, Simon did think that fact had already been established with the dumping of a student in the outback.

When the medical staff left the patient's room, Megan offered to sit inside. Joel took point by the door and Simon headed back to his office.

One hour and a half later, Blair was wrapping up the Tunjaro dig for Connor. She was surprised that he had spoken practically the entire time. Megan was fascinated at the amount of Australian history that the yank knew.

"Where did you learn the language?" There weren't that many Australians that could speak as fluently.

"I have a knack with languages. I was here as a kid with my mom so I picked it up then." Blair answered.

The orderly brought in lunch for the patient, so Megan and Joel took this time to exchange duties. Connor picked up a fresh cup of coffee and took her stance in front of the door.

Joel sat down in the chair and eyed the uneaten mashed potatoes. Blair laughed and pointed at them.

"Go for it, man. I won't be eating them. The jello was the best." Blair chuckled as the cop dug into the potatoes.

Joel had been worried that he would sit there bored, but Blair was anything but. He regaled him with tales of distant corners of the world. Two hours passed and Joel was disappointed that his time was up.

"I'll talk to you later, Blair." Joel waved as he exited the room. He walked right into Jim Ellison.

Joel looked up into the ever enigmatic eyes, "Hey, Jim. Long time, no see."

No greeting was forthcoming, instead just a fiercely asked question, "You left him alone?"

"Jim. I just now stepped out. He has not been alone yet." Joel tried to reassure the big man. Try as he might, Joel as of yet, had been unsuccessful in getting to know this man better. If one were in trouble, he would be the man to have at your back, but he wasn't one you could call friend.

"Okay." Jim turned the handle of the door, then paused, "Thanks." He went inside without turning around. He missed Joel's look of pleased surprise.

Jim used his hearing and sight to check over the man lying in the bed. He stopped at the face that was wearing a large smile.

"Hello, Officer Ellison. I don't know if I said this yet, so if I have, just ignore it, but I want to make sure I said it, so I'll say it again, just in case, ya know, if I haven't. Thank you for saving my life, twice."

Jim hadn't been sure that he followed the lead in, but the sincerity in the thank you was clear. Jim couldn't say why, but he felt embarrassed. So he fell back on what always worked. "Just doing my job."

Blair wasn't daunted by the gruff answer, "I guess I'm just lucky that you did it so well." He gave the blue eyed cop another big smile.

Jim saw the crinkles by the eyes, the glow that seemed to cover him. He was uncertain that anyone had ever smiled that way at him before. The smile itself had some unusual qualities, but he was unable to ponder just what they were as an incessant voice was calling him.

"Mr. Ellison, Jim Ellison. Officer?" Blair nearly shouted, trying to get the officer's attention.

"Jim, I asked you to call me, Jim." Ellison realized that he had blanked out. "I'm sorry, I was thinking."

"Wow, you must think some deep thoughts, I called you several times. If I'm to call you Jim, then you should call me Blair." He tried to sit up and put too much pressure on his twisted knee and he grimaced in pain.

Jim noted this almost simultaneously as it occurred. He put his hand under the man's arms and helped pull him up higher in the bed.

It was at that moment that his already enhanced hearing became doubly sensitive. He heard an old, but familiar sound. The ticking of a detonator. A bomb!

He picked up Blair and slung him over his shoulder. He grabbed his IV bag and dashed out of the room. He yelled, "Get everybody out. A bomb is set to go off."

Joel jumped up, "How do you know..."

Jim interrupted as he headed for the entrance, "Later, Joel, just do it."

Outside, he yelled to Connor and the newly arrived Brown. "There is a bomb by Blair's room. Evacuate the hospital. I'll call the bomb squad."

With Sandburg still over his shoulder, Jim flipped open his phone and hit the autodial. "Simon, we have a bomb at the hospital. We're evacuating now. ... No, I'm with Sandburg, he was the intended target. ...Yes, sir." Jim closed the phone and looked for a safe place to deposit, Blair.

He headed to the parking lot wall and placed Blair on the ground on the side away from the hospital. Jim was a little surprised that Sandburg hadn't complained as of yet. Maybe he was in shock. He searched the man's vitals with his hearing as he knelt beside him.

"You still with me, Chief?" Jim asked the still silent man.

Blair nodded. "It's like you're my blessed protector or something. Three times a charm."

"So, you're okay?" Jim reasked.

"Yeah, I figured that if you felt that you had to get me outta there quick, well, whatever, man."

Jim could tell that Sandburg was telling the truth. "Okay, Chief. You need to stay down..."

The Bomb Squad pulling in distracted Jim away from Blair. He moved toward them. He flashed his badge as he spoke. "I heard it loudest near room one-o-seven." The trained professionals headed into the hospital in full gear. Jim returned to his charge.

Half of Jim wanted to go back in and help evacuate. The other knew that the man he was protecting was the intended victim and he trusted his care to no one. He stayed with Sandburg.

The bomb squad located the device fifteen minutes before it was set to explode. Enough plastic to take out the whole wing. Jim could hear the team members discussing between themselves how virtually impossible it would have been to hear the bomb.

Captain Banks interceded with his standard explanation. It was due to Ellison's covert ops training plus his exceptional hearing.

The squad agreed that the hospital had been very lucky that Jim had been there. Simon was sure that the hospital was going to blame Jim's witness.

An hour later, hospital staff were given the okay to move everyone back inside. The Bomb Squad swept the entire premises and they assured the hospital that they were now free from any danger.

Jim, with the aid of Nurse Somerall, got Sandburg back to his room. Jim couldn't help but pick up the fear that the kid was trying to hide. Before he could reassure the student, Banks and Taggert entered the room. Connor and Brown weren't far behind.

Connor started, "Sir, we got the lab analysis back on the fluid that was injected to the IV bag. 100cc's of morphine. It would have been lethal in ten seconds."

Taggert added his findings, "The bomb was made with American explosives. The fingerprint on the detonator matched that of the IV bag. They belong to the man Blair identified, Dawson Quinn. This man is serious trouble."

Captain Banks took a slow breath as he worked logistics out in his head. "It is essential that we keep Sandburg safe. We'll have to engage the locals for guard duty..." Simon found himself interrupted by the most silent of officers.

Jim Ellison looked straight at his captain, he ignored all the others in the room. "Sir, I know I can keep him safe. You look for the ones after him. I'll take care of Sandburg."

Connor and Taggert froze in place then slowly looked at each other. The incredulous look on one face was mirrored by the other. Lone wolf Ellison just volunteered to keep a witness? By all accounts an incessant talker?

Simon Banks was just as stunned as his officers, he just kept an impassive face better, "You are volunteering to guard that witness?" Simon pointed to the man feigning sleep in the bed.

"Yes, sir. In my area I know I can guarantee his safety. I'll know if anybody comes for us." Jim replied, face giving nothing away. His military training served him well. How could he put into words that which he didn't know himself? He must protect that younger man at all costs.

Concealing his surprise, he weighed the situation. Sandburg would indeed be safer if he were inaccessible. Jim's home was difficult to get to, and the officer was right about knowing if others were in the area. He agreed with his man. "Okay, Jim. I want a check-in every twelve hours. Unless, of course, we have new information. That goes without saying."

Blair mumbled softly to himself, "Then why is he saying it?" He was more relaxed after hearing that the blue eyed cop would be taking him out of the hospital. It was odd, but he felt safe with the big cop.

Jim kept his face composed when he easily heard Sandburg's mumbled words. He was glad that the kid had a sense of humor. Hopefully, he could keep him safe.

***

Forty-five minutes later, Simon had arranged the exit paperwork for Sandburg's release. The hospital seemed very cooperative in aiding the officer's quest for all post stay requirements.

Outside, Jim found his vehicle parked in the hospital parking lot. Simon explained that he'd had one of the rookies retrieve it. Jim loaded up the jeep with the post-visit items that the nurse had suggested and he restocked the water. Jim then went back in the hospital to get his witness.

Blair was sitting on the bed with his jeans in hand. He didn't want to cut the seams to accommodate his swollen knee, so he had a blanket wrapped around his waist. He was anxious to get out the hospital. He wanted to get away from Quinn and Kincaid. He was very much afraid that he couldn't go home. Blair Sandburg knew quite well whom the university would believe.

Jim took one look at the blanket skirt, jeans in the lap and bandaged knee and twirled on his heel to exit the door he had just entered. He headed straight for the back of his jeep. He pulled out a gym bag and headed back the way he'd come. He reentered the room and handed the bag to the kid.

"Sweatpants and clean socks, if you need them." Jim just shrugged at the grateful look the student threw at him.

Jim noted the difficulty that Sandburg was having in putting on the sweatpants over his knee. Jim offered his help. With a silent gesture of acquiesce, Blair held out the sweats.

Odd, Jim thought to himself as he helped Sandburg on with the sweats, he didn't feel awkward helping this stranger into his own clothes. He went so far as to ask, "You want the socks on, too?"

"Yeah, if you really don't mind." Blair was hoping Jim wouldn't mind, he knew he couldn't do it tonight.

Jim answered brusquely, "Wouldn't of offered if I minded." He first put on the clean socks from his bag, then the kid's sneakers.

The hospital insisted that the patient be brought out in a wheelchair, so Blair didn't need to ask for help. His energy had decidedly taken a vacation.

Jim helped him into his vehicle and made sure he put on his seat belt. He got in and headed into town.

"Where are we going?" Blair didn't know what the plan was.

"We're spending the rest of the night at my captain's house. Then in the morning, we'll head into my territory." Jim answered concisely.

"And your territory is where?" Blair turned to look at the cop.

"The outback."

"Oh, great, I believe I was lost out there." Blair wasn't thrilled to return to his nightmare.

"You were outside the Aboriginal Reserve. That is only a small part of my area. Don't worry, we won't get lost." Jim noted the worried look on his passenger's face and relented. "We are actually headed for my home. It's just in the middle of the bush."

"Okay, man. I...I trust you, so whatever is okay." Blair looked out the window trying to see stuff by the streetlights.

Jim was touched by the faith the kid had in him.

Jim navigated through a residential neighborhood finally pulling into a circular driveway. He helped Sandburg out of the jeep and the two men knocked on the front door.

Simon opened the door and motioned the men in. A young black man was already sitting on the couch. Taggert and Brown were also in the room. Jim nodded to all.

Simon introduced the newcomer. "Blair Sandburg, my son, Daryl."

"Hey, nice to meet you." Blair said before he sat down in an overstuffed chair. Blair laid his head back and was aware that plans were being made around him, but he was too tired to care.

Eventually a voice broke into his slumber, "Hey, my dad has put you into the den. Let me show you. Those guys can talk all night. It sounds like you've been kinda busy the last few days." Daryl showed the limping guest the way to the den. The day couch had been pulled out into a bed and already set up with sheets, blanket and pillow.

Blair sank down, kicked off his shoes and rolled in. "Thanks, Daryl. And, yeah, it has been an eventful few days."

The teenager turned off the light as the guest seemed like he'd already fallen asleep. He headed to the kitchen for a glass of orange juice before going to bed himself. The four men at the eating table absentmindedly nodded goodnight to the young teen.

Hearing his son close his bedroom door, Simon stood up abruptly, "Shit! I forgot Sandburg." He headed back out to the living room only to find nobody there. He turned toward his son's room to inquire but Jim stilled him.

Ellison pointed to the den, "I can hear him sleeping in there."

"Daryl must have taken care of it. Here we are talking about him and I forget all about the real person." Simon shook his head. He looked at his officer, "Jim, you go get some sleep, too. The three of us will take shifts."

Jim ran his fingers through his short hair, "Okay, I have a lot of driving tomorrow." He headed to the den door. He could see Simon starting to object, but Jim headed him off, "I'll sleep on the other couch. I'll feel better if one of us was in there."

Simon nodded and bid him good night.

Jim tucked a pillow under his head and closed his eyes. His hearing sought and found the steady cadence that he had tracked in the desert. The familiar rhythm lulled him to sleep.

***

The vehicle was packed with food and the borrowed camping gear before Ellison woke the sleeping Sandburg. Coffee seemed to be his first requirement and he sat sipping it reverently, wild hair and all.

Daryl asked with feigned innocence, "Would you like some Vegemite for your toast?"

Blair grinned, "No, man. I've already been tricked into eating a huge glob on a cracker. So, no thank you."

Daryl returned the grin, then pointed out Joel.

"Hey, so sue me, I like the stuff. You're supposed to butter your toast and then place a thin coating of the Vegemite. Ivs gloob." The last was said with a full mouth and a smile.

Simon shared the latest, "Connor called, the airports have been alerted. But there are many private strips. Kincaid does have his own plane. I don't think after the last two brazen attempts that he will quit so easily."

Jim could feel the tiny shudders that Blair hid from the others. "Quinn seemed real intent on still mining the gold near the dig site. That may be a place to catch Buckner. They had no plans on leaving it behind. And Buckner was in thick with Kincaid," Blair shared.

Simon seemed surprised, "Good idea, young man."

"Hey, I'm twenty-eight. I only look a bunch younger." Blair protested that young man part.

"It's all that hair, Hairboy," Brown laughed.

"If I cut my hair, I'd look even younger." Blair shook his head in disgust.

Brown just laughed harder.

Ellison stood up. "It's time to leave. Let's go, Sandburg." He didn't want any more of his coworkers to poke fun at the witness. This was hard enough as it was for him already. He hustled Blair to the jeep and after the promise to check-in, Jim pulled out of the driveway.

Blair was silent all of two blocks. "So what are the road systems like. I've only used two, the freeway from the airport here in Alice Springs and the road that led to Docker River. The freeways aren't at all like those back in the states."

"Tell me about it. Most of the roads we'll use aren't made for fast driving. The others won't even be real roads. My territory isn't too populated."

"So where are we going?" Blair tried to get the location out of the driver.

"Wingellina," Jim answered the question.

"Okay, flat hills. Exactly where is that?" Blair pushed, looking at Jim like this was a game they were playing.

Puzzled, "Flat hills?"

"That's the literal translation of wingellina." Blair translated for the cop.

"I live in the Wingellina plateau, south of Warburton Range. So I can see how the flat hills would work." Jim heard Blair sigh and gave in by supplying more information. "We're traveling south on the Central Freeway. When we get to the Uluru turn off, we'll take that road across the Great Victoria and run into my place."

Blair turned to get his map out of his backpack then remembered that he didn't have it. It was with Jatu. He fingered his lips, wishing he had his chapstick or the one from the hospital when he found a new package of lip balm handed to him.

"It's necessary out here." Jim's voice was gruff.

"Thanks, Jim. I really need this stuff. This is so cool." Blair remembered that the cop had supplied some while he was in the hospital. Guess the stuff was important to Jim also.

They passed a Historical Point of Interest sign and Blair pointed it out. Jim shrugged, he wasn't in Alice Springs much.

Blair sighed happily, he knew what the sign was for. "Alice Springs was the frontier capital. It was established in the early eighteen hundreds. They have the proud distinction of having the first overland telegraph station. Pretty cool, huh!"

"Okay, Professor. Thanks for the history lesson." Jim directed in a mock-annoyed way at the practically bouncing man in the seat beside him.

"Oh, sorry. Sometimes I get carried away." All movement stopped. Blair tried to hide in the door. He remembered Quinn's words about being annoying.

Jim watched his passenger completely deflate and cease all movement. He felt like he clubbed a puppy. Now, Jim was uncomfortable; he didn't know what to do in this type of situation. He stood by his cure all panacea, food. "How about we drive through and get some food before we hit the bush?" Jim knew that breakfast was an hour ago, but Blair hadn't eaten much.

"I could eat," Blair remarked in answer to Jim's question.

They drove through Hungry Jacks. "Ya know, Jim, this seems a lot like Burger King back in the states." Blair noted as he munched on his extra large burger.

"Probably why I like it so much," Jim grinned as he stuffed a fry in his mouth.

Blair was seeing new areas and so it was hard to squelch down his natural exuberance. He sipped on his soda as his head turned all about taking in the new sights. After noting several roadsigns he had to ask, "Are those roadsigns for real?" He pointed to the Kangaroos-next 160km sign.

"Yes, Professor, they are for real. We should see emu crossings, dingo and outback dunny signs and if we go west enough, camel crossing signs. For a lot of the area, there are no exact roads so the signs let you know what to expect. One does not want to hit an emu or a kangaroo. They'll dent the car."

Blair laughed, "Dunny signs?" he laughed some more.

Jim nodded his head, "Yup, with the picture of the outhouse right on the sign." Jim chuckled right along with his passenger.

Blair tried to stay quiet so he took to converting kilometers to miles as they traveled down the road.

Two and a half hours later, Jim pulled off the Central Freeway. Instead of coming to a light, they came to a turnaround. Blair had done next to none of city driving so the turnarounds were puzzling. "How do you know whose turn it is?"

"You just wait for a break. If you plan on a quick left you stay in the left lane. If you want the furthest right you get in the center lane. At first I hated them, but you get use to them." He pulled into Leon's Petrol.

Jim got out and paid for his gas. He chuckled to himself that even after five years he couldn't call gas petrol to himself. He filled up and filled up the two spare gas cans that attached to the outside of the jeep. He then pulled in across the road at the sandwich shop. "This will be our last stop for a while and you may want to use the restroom. I'll grab some sandwiches for dinner. Anything you hate?"

"Anchovies." He pulled out his wallet and was about to take out some money when Jim stopped him.

"This is on the department. You're a protected witness." Jim turned and visually checked the area before he went inside. He ordered several different sandwiches and picked up a bag of chicken chips. He put the food in the cooler he had in the back of his vehicle. He used the restroom then met up with Sandburg at the jeep.

Jim got out his map to let Sandburg see where he intended going. He pointed out the route that they would now be traveling.

"Cool, we'll be going right past Uluru. Can we stop and check it out. I've never had the opportunity to see it."

"Sorry, Sandburg, this isn't a sightseeing trip. You would be a target if we stay in one place too long." Jim said bluntly, he didn't want the witness to think this was a vacation.

Blair turned big eyes to the officer, then he closed down his expression. He had momentarily forgotten that he was fleeing for his life and Jim was only his protector, not his friend. "Yes, I forgot. Sorry about that."

Jim saw many emotions flit across the expressive face before he shut it down like a pro. He was irritated at himself for feeling like he'd just done something wrong. What was it about this guy that got under his skin and caused him to feel things? A nagging memory surfaced. He remembered that Blair felt all alone and he'd just added to that.

The professional side asserted itself and reminded Jim that Sandburg would end up dead if he didn't take his job seriously. Jim drove on without looking at his passenger.

Blair studied the map. He traced the area that he thought he had been stranded in. He thought about what he would do when this was over. He didn't know. One way or another, the university was sure to blame him in some way. So, pretty much his future there was iffy at best. If they didn't get Kincaid, Blair was afraid that he could never go back. So then what would he do? These thoughts were too depressing and Blair forced himself to check out the scenery. His eyes felt heavy and he closed them to just rest them.

Jim listened as Blair's breathing evened out as he fell asleep. He had taken his meds with lunch and he was supposed to drink fluids. Otherwise he seemed okay. He was still limping, but Jim figured that within a week, the knee would almost be back to normal. Contented for the moment, Jim drove on.

Blair woke up ninety minutes later. He stretched and looked about him, "Oh, sorry, man. Didn't mean to flake out on you."

"No, worries." Jim smiled as he spoke Australian. "Why don't you reach over and get us both something to drink and the pretzels."

Blair nodded and did as Jim asked. He opened the iced tea bottle before handing it to the driver. He used the chapstick that Jim had given him before he took his first swig. He left the snack bag between the seats.

As they hit the Uluru turn off, Jim took it. "No, we're not stopping, but this is a slightly longer route to my place and would be an unexpected way to travel. So look your fill as we pass." Jim sounded as though he was dead serious about the reason they were going this way.

Blair would let Jim think he bought that, but he believed that Jim was compromising a bit so he could see the historical treasure.

Blair read from the map about the height and Aboriginal religious beliefs associated with the rock formation. Thirty miles later, Blair pointed excitedly, "Look, the Three Sisters...there's a sad tale of how it came to be," Blair began.

Jim rolled his eyes, he knew that now he was also going to be in the know. He sighed.

Blair heard it and sighed too, "But I won't bore you." He turned to look out at the rock structures.

"No, Chief, I'd like to hear it. I live here, I should know some of this stuff." Jim conceded.

"Really?" To Jim he looked like a little kid that had just been told he could have cotton candy.

"Yeah," Jim nodded, what could it hurt and he did have a lovely voice. Jim shook his head slightly, lovely voice? Where did that come from? He was pulled out of his thoughts by Blair's excited voice.

"Okay.....According to an Aboriginal dreamtime story, the three huge rock formations were once three beautiful sisters named Meehni, Wimlah and Gunnedoo from the Katoomba tribe. The three sisters fell in love with three brothers from the Nepean tribe but their tribal laws forbade their marriage. The three brothers did not accept this law and tried to capture the three sisters by force. This caused a major tribal battle and the lives of the three sisters were thus threatened. A witchdoctor decided to turn the sisters into rocks in order to protect them and thought to reverse the spell only after the battle. Unfortunately, he was killed in the battle and the three sisters remained as the enormous and beautiful rock formations."

"How do you remember all this stuff?" Jim asked, wondering where he stored all the information that he spouted.

"I'm an anthropologist, it's part of my work." Blair shrugged. How can one explain why they remember stuff.

Jim planned on driving another couple of hours before stopping for the night, so he figured that he could occupy his passenger by getting him to answer a question. "Why anthropology?"

"It's what I'd been doing my whole life." Blair smiled at the quizzical look on Jim's face. He looked interested, so he explained more fully. "My mom was part of the free-love hippie culture. We had no one home, the world was our home. By the time most kids start first grade, I had been to twelve different countries that I could remember."

"What did your dad do? Army brat?" Jim asked, more to not give himself away.

"Don't know who my dad is. Naomi would never say."

"Oh, sorry," Jim didn't mean to tread on sensitive ground. Naomi, that was the name that had hurt him so much.

"Oh, don't be. It's okay. My mom and I were together most the time. I saw so many different cultures and realized that they all were so much the same. I grew up studying people, so it was only natural to formalize it when I went to college."

"So what does an anthropologist do?" Jim was actually curious.

"I study places people were and try to figure them out. What they did, how they lived. A lot like what a detective does, it's just that my places are usually a few thousand years vacant."

"So that's what you were doing here in Australia, a dig you said?"

"Yeah. The bones of an ancient man were found. Well, first was a foot bone. The density test showed that it was considerably older than any experts were expecting so a study was arranged. The Aboriginal elders only agreed because their claims of Dreamland are refuted as hearsay. The dates of that dig can help the aborigines with their claim."

"So you learned the language to work here?" Jim already knew from Blair's private conversations that he had a knack for languages, but he didn't know why he had studied the Australian native language.

"Nah, already knew it. When I was eleven, my mom and I lived here for ten months. An elder took me in and taught me. It's so lyrical."

"Know any other languages?" Jim found himself curious.

"Only about fourteen real well, another twelve I could eat and find the bathroom in." Blair grinned. "Gotta know how to find food where ever you go, man."

Jim was still back on the first number. "Only fourteen languages?" Shit, kid must be a little smarter than he looks.

"Yeah, well, I did say I traveled a lot." Blair explained.

"Sandburg, I've traveled a lot and I only know two besides English. Just because you visit a place, doesn't mean you learn the language."

Jim could feel Blair becoming uncomfortable.

"Well, Jim, sometimes I ended up being the only child where we'd be. So, to keep myself occupied I'd usually read about the history and whatnot. To do that, you had to know the language. Usually I could get someone to practice with me. It was fun and I learned a lot." Blair tried not to think of the times that were lonely.

"So when did you fit school in?" Jim had to wonder if there was any normal time in his childhood.

"I got several grades in, especially when we lived in Europe. By twelve I had had already passed the QED's in the US, also the O levels in England. Had to wait awhile to attend college. Mom and I traveled even more after that."

Ellison found he had to ask, "When did you start college?"

"Sixteen. Graduated when I was nineteen. Completed my masters in anthropology by twenty-two and my masters in psychology by twenty-five. I've been working on my doctorate since." Blair rattled it off.

"Gee, what's the hold up on the doctorate for a smart guy like you?"

Uncomfortable again, Blair turned and looked out the window. "My focus of study didn't pan out. I just switched topics at the beginning of the fall term."

Jim knew he'd hit a sore spot. He hadn't meant for his question to sound so accusatory. "Well, I'm sure you'll get it. So, what does a doctor of anthropology do?"

"I could teach, of course, but that would be very confining. I could continue with dig sites and studies. Even head up my own. But I hope to put it to use where I could utilize all I've learned with the living, not just the dead."

"How do you use it with the living?" Jim was trying to follow the Sandburg train of thought.

"What? You want an example?" Blair was somewhat shocked, no one had ever asked him this before. He was even more surprised because Jim actually sounded interested.

"Wouldn't ask if I didn't," Jim replied truthfully.

"Okay, back in Cascade, I coached Small Fry basketball with a local cop there, Earl Gaines. He worked on Gang Intervention, having come from a gang himself. This one gang, the 357s thought that this other gang, the Deuces, killed three of their guys and stole all their drugs. So the 357s killed the leader of the Deuces in retaliation. Only problem, Hollins, the leader of the Deuces told Earl before he died that his gang had had nothing to do with the missing drugs or murders." Blair turned in the seat to face Jim better as he got into his story.

"After practice, Earl had shared his fears of an all out gang war. That made me think of a way to apply some of my cultural studies. You see, a couple years ago I did an extensive study on tribal warriors who share remarkably similar behavioral patterns to American street gangs."

Jim couldn't help himself, "You know, these days with a comment like that people could lose their jobs."

"Jim, it has nothing to do with race, man. It is about dominance and submission of subgroups. It's simple really once you think about it. In all male-dominated, power-based subgroups, antagonistic action by one group is usually met with equal to or greater antagonistic action by another. And this was exactly what was happening."

"Meaning what?" Jim asked, trying to follow.

"Meaning that because the Deuces thought that the 357s killed Hollins, they were going to have to retaliate. Their code of honor demanded it. So escalation was inevitable, unless the cops could prove to one gang that the other gang was innocent. And that is what happened. Turns out it was a cop on the take. The gangs went back to their old truce. Anthropology at work for the living." Blair smiled for the first time since the conversation started.

"Not bad, Professor." Jim said as they left the road they'd been traveling on. "Hang on, the road gets rougher from here."

The road wasn't bad, just grated in preparation for the upcoming wet season. Blair felt like he was sitting a fast trot. The road narrowed and forked, Jim took the right fork and guided the jeep over a small hill to a grove of eucalyptus and stopped.

"We camp here for the night. Tent or no tent?" Jim gave Blair the choice.

"Whichever, doesn't matter to me."

"Okay, no tent. That way we'll wake with the sun for sure. We want to get an early start." Jim unloaded the sleeping bags, a lantern and two small, collapsible chairs.

Blair carried the two coolers, one with food, one with drinks.

Blair unwrapped the sandwiches and set them out as Jim called into Simon. Jim relayed that there was no new news.

They ate in silence, both hungry enough to appreciate the tasty sandwiches. Jim hauled what little trash they had back into his vehicle. While there, he unlocked his shotgun from between the seat and took a handgun from under the spare tire well.

Blair's eyes widened at the weapons. "You expecting trouble? You said that we weren't followed."

"One can't be too careful." Jim remarked by way of explanation.

Blair watched the man pick up two sodas and lock up his jeep. The man was like a closed book that on occasion, one got a quick peek of something special inside. Blair would have to work slowly on this guy.

Sitting back in the short chair, Jim relaxed as much as he was going to. The moonrise made the area easy to see.

"So, where are we?" Blair asked like he'd know when Jim told him.

"Warakurna. We crossed the state line an hour ago."

"So, we're back in West Australia?"

"Yup. Those mountains to the south," Jim pointed to his left, "That is the Warburton Range. I live just on the other side. We'll get there tomorrow afternoon."

"There are some aboriginal land reserves in that range," Blair remembered.

"Three."

"Do you patrol those areas, too?" Blair tried to get some information about what Jim did.

"Patrol, yes. If there is a problem, depending on what it is, I'll include the elders of that region."

"You mean if it involves a native?"

"No. Say a car is stolen in Alice Springs and I locate said car in my area on aboriginal lands, I'll arrest the guy and call for transport. If someone desecrates the land, steals from, injures or kills a native then I go to the tribal elders. That's how we get along, maintain a good working relationship. This area is too vast to become too territorial."

"I can get behind that." Blair really like that nomadic aboriginal culture and knew it must be a difficult transition for them to become more stationary. He remembered a tale about Jim's mountain. "Ya know, Aborigines have the longest continuous cultural history of any group of people on Earth - dating back - by some estimates - 65,000 years." Blair paused to see if Jim was irritated. When he said nothing, Blair continued. "It is called Dreamtime. The expression 'Dreamtime' is most often used to refer to the 'time before time'. The dig I was on helped prove some of that claim." The anthropologist paused, then tentatively shared aloud, " I know the tale of those mountains there," Blair pointed to the mountains that could be seen in the moonlight. "It's about the Rainbow Serpent."

"Hey, I've actually heard about that." Jim waited, but his companion seemed to have stopped talking. He knew it was up to him to fix it. "Just because I'm not one to talk a lot, doesn't mean that I can't handle when you do."

"Nah, I forget that not everyone is interested in this kind of stuff." Blair looked out at the Warburton Range.

"Blair, I live here. I have heard of the Rainbow Serpent. I really would like to hear the aboriginal tale." The sincerity in Jim's voice would have been hard to miss.

"Okay." Blair turned and smiled at Jim. He found he really liked the man. "It's told that The Great Dividing Range is said to be a creation of the Rainbow Serpent's movements. Throughout its journey over and under the land it created rivers, valleys, lakes and was also careful to leave many areas flat, whilst shaping various land gradients for future water run offs.

After it was satisfied with what it did, it came to a point in Central Australia where it ceased to create any more geographical landforms. From its inside spirit, people came out and began to move all over this country to create many different lifestyles, speak many languages and thus to evolve as different but similar entities in their own allotted Dreaming home lands. I always thought that one was kinda cool. It explains why the tribes are different yet the same. There's a lot to be said for all the different tales in all cultures. Much history is there, just distorted."

"Thirty thousand years is a big claim." Jim said gently.

"It's only so hard to prove because their history is oral." Blair warmed to his topic, "The only reason other cultures claims are given more credence is because they've had the stories handed down in written form. Look at all the cultures with flood myths, they all lived near big rivers. Historians doubt some of the claims in West Africa because they were oral cultures. But the European claims are believed because the same type stories were passed down in written form."

"Okay, Professor, I believe you." Jim held up his hand in surrender.

"Sorry, I can get carried away." Blair smiled, as Jim didn't really seem annoyed this time.

Jim shut off the lantern, "Get some shuteye. We're out of here at sunup."

"Night, Jim. Thanks for doing this."

"It's my job, Professor." Jim closed his eyes, but that didn't close his thoughts. He couldn't help but dwell on the kid. Okay, not really a kid, but his exuberance for life despite his situation made him seem younger.

Jim folded his arms behind his head and thought back to an earlier conversation. So, not only did he speak all those languages he could read them, too. He wondered if Blair realized how much he gave away today? How little time he spent with his mom. Hell, he spent more time with strangers growing up. Jim knew he could relate to that even though he had grown up in the same house every day.

Jim could tell that Blair loved his mom, but she sure wasn't there for him. Another thing he could relate to. Odd that, that he would feel like he had stuff in common with this new age hippie.

Jim stretched his hearing out, searching for anything out of place. He found all was as it should be. He knew he was glad to be out of the city and back in the wide, open spaces. He located the steady cadence of the sleeping heartbeat and didn't realize that he used it to fall asleep.

***

Morning came early, Blair realized that this was why he avoided mornings. They came too early, they would be more enjoyable if they started later in the day.

Coffee, he could smell coffee...maybe mornings had one thing redeemable about them.

He forced his eyes open to see Jim pouring a mug of coffee and holding it up for him. Blair waved an acknowledgement, thinking to himself, 'damn, if the man wasn't just too chipper for this ungodly hour.' He looked at his watch to confirm it. Five twenty. "It's five twenty in the morning! Man, I'd rather be just going to bed, now."

"Hey, Chief, I said we'd be leaving at first light. So, actually, we're already late."

Blair rolled his eyes as he stretched and wondered what was up with all the nicknames. He figured that Jim wasn't good at remembering names.

The anthropologist found a large bush and relieved himself. He ran his fingers through his hair, wishing, not for the first time that he had his backpack. His brush would be nice.

"You hungry?" Jim asked as he folded the campstove and stored the propane.

"No. Coffee's fine. Thanks." Blair answered as he picked up the mug and brought it to his lips.

Jim watched the full lips purse slightly to blow on the hot liquid before sipping. He could see the delicate lines that were smooth not cracked...

"Jim...Jim..." Blair touched the arm of the frozen man and said, "Hey, what are you thinking about so deeply?"

Jim realized that Blair was now standing next to him. Well shit, he'd lost time again. What were the last words Sandburg said...thinking about... "Just trying to decide the best route home from here." Jim recovered quickly and stepped away to open the back of the jeep.

Blair was reminded of something familiar but lost the thought in the startled cry of a bird that sounded like a turkey being butchered for dinner. "What is that?"

"We must be near some water. It's an ibis. Just a greeting." Jim answered offhandedly.

"If you say so. Too bad such a nice looking bird makes such a god-awful sound."

Jim chuckled as he finished loading his vehicle.

Blair sipped his coffee as they headed toward the mountains. "I guess mountains are a relative term. Okay, not to a geologist, but otherwise it's gotta be where you are."

"Huh?" Jim figured this was another lesson, something he was beginning to call the Sandburg Zone.

"Well, that range there," the anthropologist in teacher mode pointed to the mountain range they were driving towards. "What is it, four thousand feet? If we were back home and heard mountain, we'd be thinking Rockies or the Sierras. Hell, anything less than six thousand are just hills there. I bet the folks that live in Switzerland think that Denmark just has hills. New South Wales calls their mountains the 'Australian Alps'; it's only seven thousand feet, but the highest on the continent. It would take double that to make the Matterhorn. So it's where you live, man. To the locals, their highest point is a mountain."

"Your mind back from hiatus yet, Sandburg?"

Blair sipped more of his coffee as he gave Jim a quelling look.

Jim grinned, "I guess if you had the Swiss Alps in your backyard, you would be comparing a lot." Jim turned on the air conditioner as the hot sun heated the day. Blair just grinned to himself.

***

"So, where is he?" Kincaid asked impatiently.

"I know from monitoring the police band that the cop Ellison has removed Sandburg from the area. He wasn't on long enough to get a fix. The cop is supposed to check in again this evening. I'll be ready." Quinn told his partner.

"You damn well better be. We stand to lose a lot of money here. Don't screw it up." Kincaid wanted it done with. He needed to get home and do damage control. With Sandburg's reputation at Rainier it won't be hard to cast all the aspersions onto him. Once he was dead, that is. "Well, don't stand here talking with me, get out there." Kincaid ordered Quinn away.

Quinn headed for his room.

***

Jim couldn't believe his passenger, he talked all the time. He rambled on about a large variety of topics. He had to admit, he wasn't boring. The only time silence reigned during the drive was when Sandburg was eating. Another thing he seemed to take seriously.

As Jim munched on the chips, he thought about the entertaining stories that Blair had shared about his trips in other foreign lands. Nothing about the actual man, though. He tended to shy away form the personal parts that would share what he was thinking or feeling. Jim could hear the loneliness, he knew it was there so it was easy to pick out. It was easy because he had lived with the same loneliness all his life.

After a pit stop at a roadside dunny, he piloted the vehicle off the main road and onto the trail that would take them across the mountain faster.

Blair looked for birds and chatted on as Jim guided the jeep through steep areas. Jim had to give Blair credit, never once did he ask why they were going this way or worry aloud about the road. As they descended the south side of the Warburton, Jim pointed to the only dwelling that could be seen at all.

"Your place?" Blair questioned, already figuring that it was indeed Jim's place.

"Yup."

"You got a shower?" Blair looked expectantly at his host to be.

"Yup."

"Oh, goody." Blair's smile reached from ear to ear. He was practically humming by the time the vehicle stopped.

Jim planned on taking care of Tank so Blair could shower first. He showed him the spare room he would use and the linen cupboard for the towels. He got him some shorts and a tee shirt to change into.

"I'm going out to the barn, take your time." Jim's actions matched his words.

Blair stripped his clothes, removed the bandage from his knee and went under the inviting spray. He stood still for several minutes enjoying the sensation of the warm water on his tired muscles. He washed the grim away from his desert sojourn and from Kincaid's unwanted advances. He washed away the hospital stench and replaced the scents with Jim's soap. A thought that comforted the hiding anthropologist.

After washing his hair he reluctantly turned off the water and toweled off. He braided his hair while still wet as Jim didn't have any conditioner. He didn't want to scare Jim with a bad hair day look.

Jim finished taking care of Tank and his quarters. The horse had seemed pleased that he had returned, most likely for the fresh food he represented. He walked back into his house and ran into a partially towel-clad man. He was surprised by a more defined chest than he would have thought that the anthropologist would have. There were water drops glistening on his shoulder...

"Sorry, Jim, I kinda stayed in the shower a long time. It was just so nice." Blair was hoping his host wouldn't be too pissed off.

Blair's voice brought him back from the edge of a blank out. "No problem. Hopefully you left me some hot water." Jim tore his eyes away from his guest and headed to the bathroom. He couldn't figure out what it was about that that man. He was being affected on so many different levels.

Jim washed away all thought as he stood under the hot, pounding water. He loved the solar panels that kept a near endless supply of hot water. Relaxed and in control, Jim toweled off and slipped into a pair of shorts. Now for food.

Jim took two steaks out of the freezer and defrosted them in the microwave before tossing them on the grill. Jim took Blair up on his offer to throw a salad together. On his own, Blair added sautéed potatoes in garlic butter to their menu.

After dinner the two men sat on the patio watching the sunset. Blair loved that the sun stayed up so late, it was close to nine thirty and the colors were still wonderful. Tonight, Blair felt safe.

The companionable silence was nice, but Blair's curiosity finally got the better of him. He remembered the question he'd been dying to ask. "Jim, you mentioned that you spoke two languages besides English. Which two?"

"Russian and Quechua," Jim answered without moving. His eyesight was tracking a kangaroo out of Sandburg's view.

"Cool. I speak both of those, too. Where'd you learn the Quechua?"

Jim closed off a bit. "When I was stationed in Peru."

"Wow, I was in the La Montaña region. I traveled from the Yucayali River to the town of Pucallpa. It was the Chopec territory. I was there in the early nineties." Blair stopped as Jim's face blanched white. "What is it, Jim?" Blair's voice dropped to quiet.

"Nothing." Jim's face was emotionless.

"I hardly call your reaction nothing."

In a harsh tone, "Then, I don't want to talk about it." Jim's voice dripped ice cubes.

The anthropologist saw the stark look in the unresponsive man's eyes. That lost look on a familiar face stirred memories and an image of a face on Newsweek was recalled.

"Oh, god! You're that Ellison. Captain James Ellison. Stranded in Peru for eighteen months." Blair's voice lowered at the imagined trauma. "That must have been hell for you." That was spoken very quietly in understanding.

"Yes, it was hell." Jim clipped off each word. He got up without another sound and went back into the house. He shut the door without a slam, but Sandburg heard the slam all the same.

Blair watched sadly as the man walked away in hurt anger. "Great, Sandburg, messed up again," he whispered to himself.

Blair cleaned away everything that hadn't been put away and went to his room and closed the door.

***

Jim wasn't sure why he reacted so harshly with the kid, but he wasn't into sharing any of the mission or its repercussions. He flopped on to his stomach and willed himself to sleep.

Jim woke in the middle of the night searching for the noise that plagued him. His regular hearing picked up nothing but the normal assortment of birds and bats. He stretched his hearing and zeroed in on the rotors of a helicopter.

It sounded so out of place in the middle of the night that Jim continued to track. It seemed to be drawing closer until it was almost on them. Bullets soon followed the helicopter noise. Jim grabbed a gun from his nightstand and ran down the stairs to Blair's room. He slid across the bed taking Sandburg with him on his way to the floor. He covered his charge as bullets once again spewed the room. He pushed Sandburg along the floor toward the closet. He pointed to a trapdoor and motioned him to it.

"Get down there and stay there." Jim assumed that Blair would obey his command and turned back to the front room. He stayed in the shadows and made his way to a window to view his adversary. He stretched his vision and saw two gunmen at the open side of the aircraft. He pointed his gun through the broken window and squeezed the trigger.

One gunman fell silently to the ground. The second gunman pulled the clip of a grenade before Jim took him out. Grenade and man fell out of the helicopter. The pilot flew away just ahead of the explosion.

The loud noise knocked Jim to the ground. The sound was a pain and he gripped his ears trying to ward it away. The light of the explosion compounded Jim's problem. The light all but singed his eyes and all he was aware of was more pain.

Blair did not obey orders well and when Jim had turned away, instead of hiding safely away, he followed. He stood in the shadows behind Jim and watched in awe as the cop before him took aim in the dark and shot a gunman out of the helicopter. He watched as he fired again and took out the second man. As the helicopter took off an explosion occurred. It shook the house, but was no louder than a loud television set turned up.

Blair watched in puzzlement as Jim grabbed his ears and fell to his knees in obvious pain. Thinking that he had been shot, Blair rushed to his side. He ran his hands all over, searching for blood. Discovering none, he listened closely for a clue. He watched as Jim rocked back and forth, murmuring, "Too bright, too loud. Too bright, too loud."

Faster than a computer circuit, Blair put a puzzle together and jumped in with a solution. "Turn the volume down." Blair rubbed his hands over Jim's back as he repeated, "Turn the volume down. Just like the radio. See a dial and turn it down low." He rubbed gentle circles over the rocking back as he repeated his instructions in a calm voice.

When the hands eased off Jim's ears, Blair repeated the procedure, but for the eyes this time. "Find another dial, for sight and turn it down. Not all the way, just low. You can do it. You will feel better then, okay?"

Jim stopped rocking, but Blair continued rubbing the man's back. Finally he asked, "You okay now?"

"Yeah, now it's just like a normal headache." He sat up slowly and looked around. He was afraid to open his sight so all he could see was Sandburg's shape silhouetted against the burning fire outside. Their situation slammed back home and he stood up, taking Blair with him.

"We have to get out of here, they may be back." He headed to the kitchen. He opened the pantry and took out a battery operated lantern. He turned it on and placed it on the table. "Pack whatever clothes, grab some towels. We need to be leaving yesterday."

Jim picked up his cellphone and hit the autodial.

"Banks."

"It's Ellison. Just listen. They hit my place. We're fine. I can only figure they traced the phone call. I'm taking Sandburg and leaving. I'll call you in a couple of days from a pay phone. I'll use the name Mannix when I call in case they've tapped into your line. You check that stuff from your end."

Listening to an Army captain voice, Simon was ready to salute, instead he asked, "You all right?"

"Yeah, Simon. Don't worry. That's my territory out there. No one can find me unless I want them to. Talk to you in a few days." Jim closed the phone and left it on the kitchen table. He went upstairs to pack for himself. For once glad that he hadn't unpacked the jeep right away.

He took extra clothes for Blair, all his guns and ammo. He took his bag and Blair's outside. He packed up all the food that was useable and took as much water as he could pack in the back. He strapped on two more fifty gallon gas cans after he finished loading everything else. He then drove to the barn garage and parked the vehicle. He opened the stable doors and the corral gate. Tank could leave whenever he wanted. He left out two bales of hay, just in case.

Before they could vacate the area, Jim heard a helicopter returning. "SANDBURG!" Jim yelled as he ran back to the house. Blair stepped out onto the porch as Jim ran up.

"What?" The question has no sooner left his mouth that he found himself being pulled alongside Jim. He went to a trapdoor that he had in the kitchen and opened it with a hard yank.

"IN!" he commanded.

Blair jumped into the darkness instantly, no questions asked.

Jim locked it behind him and placed a flashlight into Blair's hand. He had one for himself. In the absolute darkness of the insulated room, Jim couldn't see without aid either.

He motioned Blair to the corner. Jim covered Blair with his body and he covered his body with a protective blanket. He cocked his gun and awaited the siege.

***

Quinn velcroed his vest tightly before rechecking his arsenal. If the hired help couldn't get the job done, he'd have to do it himself. He turned on the infrared heat tracking. They were almost upon the only two structures for a hundred miles. Quinn detected movement in the small building that turned out to be just a horse. The big structure held the heat signatures of two humans. He directed the pilot there.

As the chopper pilot flew an arc pattern, Quinn armed the law's rocket. In time with the aircraft movement he aimed and released the trigger. He counted to six and the building exploded in a great ball of fire. He had the pilot swing around for another pass. He found no human heat signatures. Laughing, he said aloud, "All you needed was a cape, Ellison." He'd bested the Outback's best. He laughed again as he directed the pilot back to base.

Upon landing he picked up a phone. Quinn uttered one sentence before disconnecting the call.

"The target has been acquired."

***

"Captain, Rafe confirmed the rumor. The house is completely demolished. There are no signs of life but for Ellison's horse. Rafe arranged for it to be picked up and boarded 'til his affairs are in order." Taggert did not like to be the bearer of such bad news.

They had received an unconfirmed report of an explosion that had resulted in two dead; A witness and the protecting officer.

Simon couldn't believe it, he had talked with Ellison just minutes before the satellite photo showed the blast time. The Captain had been holding back the satellite photo in hopes that Mannix would call. But it had been three days and his hope had been flushed down the john.

"Okay, Joel. Damn. Now, we don't have enough to actively pursue Kincaid, so cancel that APB."

"Simon, you know it was at Kincaid's request that Ellison and Sandburg are dead. We can't just let them get away with it." Taggert was upset.

"Joel, what proof do we have?" Simon asked and hoped that his officer had an idea.

Joel flopped down in one of the chairs. "Nothing but my gut feeling."

"Well, my gut is with yours, but that won't cut much with the brass."

Joel looked down at his feet, "We...ah...need to arrange a memorial, or something."

Simon wiped his face with his hand, sighed deeply before answering, "I'll put all that in motion." He watched Joel get up slowly. "Shit," he said aloud.

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly." Joel didn't look up as he exited the office.

Simon dug up the personnel file on James Ellison.

***

The explosion demolished the house, shook the ground and rattled the bones. Blair asked no questions and Jim volunteered no answers. They huddled in silence as the fires raged above.

Jim found himself feeling very protective of the man that had gone from quivering in silent fear to an exhausted sleep huddled under the protective cover. Jim couldn't explain to himself why he would feel more for this stranger than he had for his ex-wife. The difficulty that these thoughts presented meant that they needed to be pushed away and ignored. He wouldn't have to deal with them for several years if he did it right.

Instead, he focused on their current situation. Obviously, Kincaid was pretty damn serious about getting rid of Blair.

They needed to get away from the area in case someone came to check the wreckage. If he let them believe they were successful, he could protect Blair and they wouldn't be pursuing him. Simon wasn't expecting them to check in for several days so he would maintain silence. Now, hopefully Kincaid and Quinn would be more open with their movements and Simon would apprehend them.

First order here was to get out undetected. He focused his hearing outward, hunting for any indication that someone was out there. He had heard the helicopter circle several times before finally leaving the area. Jim guessed that they had probably been looking for heat signatures. The lead-lined cover had prevented that. The covert ops trained man didn't want to leave their non-detectable space until he was positive that they were safe.

After an hour with no perceptible human movement, Jim nudged Blair to awareness.

"Are we still alive?" Blair asked, wanting to stretch.

"Yes, and I aim to keep us that way." Jim folded up the cover, turned on his flashlight and led Blair away from the entrance they'd used to get into the shelter.

His sensitive fingers felt along the back wall until he came into contact with a recessed bolt and unlocked the door. He had to pull hard to break its vacuum seal. The corridor was littered with timbers and rocks downed by the explosion, but it was not enough to impede their way.

Again, Blair followed along silently. He mirrored Jim's steps as he crept along the dark corridor and up an iron-rod ladder. Blair paused as Jim opened the hatch and then scrambled out quickly after Jim. They were in the barn.

Jim motioned Blair to the vehicle. Wasting no time, Jim started and drove off in a straight line for the mountains. He left the conventional road and chose instead to drive over brush that would leave less of a trail behind.

Jim scanned and encountered no humans, cars or helicopters. The protector let himself relax a bit.

Sensing this, Blair finally started asking questions. "I take it that all that was for me?"

Jim nodded.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your home on my account. I wish that I could say I could make it up to you, but I'm pretty much penniless. I've probably lost my grant monies, too." Blair turned and looked behind him at the still burning wreckage. "I am very sorry, Jim."

"I knew the risks going in. It was just a house. Not really a home." Jim shut his mouth, not meaning to say that last aloud.

Blair nodded and took a deeper breath. "Jim, we need to talk about the other."

"That was just a room I built as a precaution. A left over from my military training, to always have a secondary backup plan." Jim explained.

"No, I meant about the senses thing. The overload." Blair tried for a professional tone.

"I'm fine." Jim voiced in a clipped and closed manner.

"What I saw back there was definitely not fine. Normal, yes, but not fine." Blair looked at the man driving and realized that he had seen statues with more expression. "Jim, come on, talk to me."

Jim said nothing. Sandburg's only indication that Jim had even heard was the clenching of his jaw. Jim continued to say nothing for the next two hours. No matter what Blair tried Jim did not respond. Blair sat back resigned to the temporary silence. But Jim had a thing or two to learn about a Sandburg's perseverance.

Dawn found the vehicle slowing down in a rocky canyon. Jim pulled off, stopped under an outcropping and turned off the engine.

"We can catch some shut eye. We'll be protected and to be double sure, we'll sleep under that blocking blanket." Jim announced with the ease of someone who expected others to automatically fall in with his plans.

"Blocking blanket? What does it block? Is it toxic? I don't want something toxic next to my skin." Blair thought he should contribute something.

"It's just a lead lined tarp. It screens us from infrared heat seeking trackers. I'm probably being overly cautious, but I didn't want to take chances and I really need to get some sleep."

Blair looked closely at Jim and saw the tired eyes and agreed to whatever Jim wanted to do.

"We both need to be under the blanket to block our heat signatures so that will necessitate sleeping closely together." Jim announced bluntly.

Blair shrugged his agreement thinking to himself that it wouldn't be too much of a hardship whatsoever.

Jim brought in the perishables to protect them from the day's heat and the sleeping bags for padding. He laid the bags down and pointed Blair to one. Jim laid down next to him and pulled the cover over the both of them completely.

Blair drifted off to sleep and Jim did a last check of the area before following right after him.

***

Jim woke from the best sleep he'd had in ages only to find himself completely wrapped up in Blair and Blair was wrapped around him. Jim thought he should hurry up and out, but he was reluctant to do so. Everything felt so good. It was then that Jim realized that he was hard and wanted to rub against the man within his arms, but Jim had control so he forced himself to leave the unintentional embrace. He unfolded his legs and ungracefully stood up. Blair snuffled into his own arm and rolled into the space that Jim had just vacated.

Jim left the tiny cave and stood outside looking into the afternoon sun. He rubbed his face, confused by his body's reaction to Blair. Usually, he was able to maintain his rigid control no matter the provocation. Blair seemed to be able to cut into the bolts that he had around his emotions.

He shook it all out of his mind and concentrated on getting a meal together. On the propane stove, Jim got the coffee brewing and scrambled eggs military style. He used the entire carton knowing they wouldn't last the heat.

Blair woke missing the warm cuddles of his dream. The scent of coffee was the next best thing to his dream and that had him up and stretching in a hurry.

Jim glanced over at the stretching man and couldn't keep the grin off his face.

Blair caught it and asked, "What?"

"That hair, Sandburg. It's like you stuck your finger in a light socket." Jim chuckled some more.

The taunted one felt with his hands and found the stray hairs too short to stay in the braid had taken on a life of their own. Knowing what he must look like, he laughed too. "Good enough for the fright house?"

"Yup, you'd scare many a boy into a buzz cut." Jim agreed wholeheartedly.

Jim dished up the eggs as Blair got his own bread. He brought Jim a couple of pieces that he traded as he took his plate. The ate in a comfortable silence.

Blair helped Jim clean up and they had the pans and plates put away. Jim grabbed a deck of cards out of his glove box. He held them up and Blair smiled.

Four hands of poker later and Jim was light several pebbles.

Blair watched as Jim fingered a jagged edged rock. "I bet I can tell you why you carry that rock?"

"None of your business."

"But Jim, I can help you."

"I do just fine."

"But last night..."

"You're safe. You're here. The rest is none of your business."

Blair remained silent for about thirty seconds, then he asked softly, "Is it all five?"

Jim took a deep breath, "I don't know what you're talking about, Sandburg."

"Dammit, Jim, I can really help. I know about enhanced senses, I've studied this very thing for years." Blair's genuine belief in what he was saying was easy to read.

Jim said nothing as he stood and faced the cave opening, his back to the anthropologist. He looked out but saw nothing, lost within his own thoughts. He asked in an almost timid manner. "You said normal. What did you mean?"

"Just what it means." Blair stated matter-of-factly.

"There are not lots of people experiencing this." Jim told him in a clipped voice.

"I said normal, not common." Blair replied earnestly.

"A freak!" Jim said with much bitterness.

"ABSOLUTLEY NOT!" Blair punched out, "Never a freak. This has been a normal occurrence throughout history, just not common and not talked about."

Uncertain for the first time in a long time, Jim said hesitantly, "I always thought there was something wrong with me."

"Nothing's wrong. You're special. I believe you are a sentinel."

"A what?" Jim was withdrawing again.

"I have this monograph by Sir Richard Burton, the explorer, not the actor. It's over a hundred years old. The idea goes something like this -- in all tribal cultures every village had what Burton named a Sentinel. Now this was someone who patrolled the border."

Jim looked up once more, "You mean a scout."

Blair shook his head, "No, no, no, more like a watchman. You see, this Sentinel would watch for approaching enemies, change in the weather, movement of game. Tribe survival depended on it."

Blair paused and made sure that he had Jim's attention before continuing. He made direct eye contact. "A Sentinel is chosen because of a genetic advantage. A sensory awareness that can be developed beyond normal humans. Now these senses are honed by solitary time spent in the wild. Burton's monograph was disputed and now it's basically forgotten. I mean, there are certain manifestations today of maybe one or two hyperactive senses, like taste and smell, people who work for coffee and perfume companies. Oh, and in Vietnam, the Army long-range recon units that had to--"

Jim chimed in, remembering, " -- change their diet to fish and rice because a Cong scout could smell a Westerner by his waste."

"Right, right, exactly. I've got hundreds and hundreds of documented cases that I tested of one or two hyperactive senses but not one single subject with all five." The scientist put his hand on Jim's arm, "I have seen your sight and hearing. How many others?"

Jim broke eye contact and looked at the ground again.

"Okay, let me ask, are you smelling things that no one else can smell. Tastebuds off the map, right? And a hyperactive tactile response."

Jim looked puzzled.

Blair added, "Your sense of touch is extra sensitive. Clothes may bother you...that type of thing?"

"Since Peru, I have experienced some oddities with my nose and my skin. The taste of food has been off, but I put that down to changing countries. I've kinda just ignored all of it. Now, since last night, I'm smelling things I can't find and my skin is humming."

Blair's mind ran through all the information and concluded, "So, that must mean that your abilities, which were once latent and partially suppressed, have been dredged up."

"Well, if you know about this stuff, can you help me get rid of it?" Jim looked hopeful.

Blair shook his head, "Doesn't work like that. I haven't got a clue on how to turn them off. But think about it, you're a police officer with hyperactive senses. You're a monster, man, a human crime lab with organic surveillance equipment. What more could you want?"

Jim answered automatically, "Control."

"Right, so you need information. And you need someone who understands your condition."

"You?" Jim commented dryly.

The scientist smiled a knowing smile, "Okay, I still bet I can tell you why you carry that rock?"

Jim looked over at man standing against the cave wall. "I'll bite, Darwin, why?"

"The zone-out factor. Blanking out, loss of time, waking up cold and not rested. You squeeze the rock so the pain will stop the zone outs." Blair explained.

"The zone-out factor?" Jim questioned.

"Yeah, the zone-out factor. You see, it's suggested in Burton's research, that when a Sentinel is working his deal, he gets oblivious to the outside world. Sorta like the blinders are on. Usually he had a partner along, someone to watch his back."

Jim looked at the anthropologist dubiously, "You mean like you? You plan on watching my back. You're not a cop, you're a student."

"Well, first off, I would like to teach you that control you said you wanted."

"You're serious?" Jim was somewhat incredulous. This kid's life was in danger and he was offering his help to a virtual stranger.

"Exactly. You are the living embodiment of my field of study. If I'm correct, Officer Ellison, you're a behavioral throwback to a pre-civilized breed of man." As soon as the words left his mouth he knew that they would be perceived wrong. And as he found himself slammed up against the cave wall, he knew he was right.

Jim yelled in the man's face, "Are you out of your mind? You're telling me I'm some sort of caveman? Listen, you neo-hippie witch doctor punk..."

"No, no I worded it wrong....I'm just saying that sentinels can be traced back to the beginnings of man. Actually, you see, very normal, just not..."

Jim let Blair down as he finished the sentence, "Common. Okay, Sandburg. I want control. Right now, your life may depend on it."

"Okay, let's get started. I'm assuming that with your Ranger training that you have a good handle on self control." Blair looked to the man and received a single nod. "With your enhanced senses, I bet you've been fighting them when they wouldn't stay suppressed."

Jim just stared, no response forthcoming.

"The very first thing you must do to get the control you so desire is to accept the senses and yourself." Blair told him objectively.

Jim stood still, nothing on the outside gave any indication of the whirlwind of thoughts happening on the inside. Jim was incredulous, accepting something that had made him different, labeled a freak by his father, exiled him from his family. How was he to willingly accept them now on the say so of this unconventional man in front of him?

He looked at the man in front of him. A student, an anthropologist, a scientist, someone that recognized and renamed the insanity he lived with.

Change and accept on his say so? Something deep within him was pushing for a yes. That "something" was something that he hadn't communicated with in a very long time.

Accept that he was different? Accept that he was really a walking crime lab? Accept that he was a sentinel watchman? Accept that this would force him into solitude always?

"I don't know, Sandburg."

Blair lit up, "Wow. We're half way there." Blair beamed at Jim.

Jim was even more puzzled by Sandburg, "I said I don't know. I didn't say yes."

"You didn't diss it out of hand. You're thinking about it. That's great."

Jim shrugged in the face of Sandburg's optimism.

Blair continued to smile, "Let's just test a couple of things. Prove how you can take control."

Jim watched Blair intently, maybe with a smidgen of hope.

Blair walked to the cave entrance and looked out, his thoughts were momentarily diverted at the beauty around him. He wrenched himself back to the matter at hand. He spotted something that would work.

"Over there," he pointed to his left, "See those animal droppings? First, see it clearly with your sight."

"Easy, Professor, I've used my sight all along."

"And if you look too long?"

Jim looked away.

"You get lost, especially if it sparkles, or is shiny or colorful." He looked at Jim expectantly.

Jim reluctantly nodded.

"You have the droppings visually. Now, I want you to focus your sense of smell on it." Blair knew when Jim had successfully accomplished it, his awful expression gave it away.

"No, don't turn away or cover your nose. Instead picture a dial, see the numbers. It's on a high number right now. Turn it down to where you know the smell is there but it's not overwhelming."

Jim followed Sandburg's instructions as ordered and the smell was controlled. His eyes opened wide in amazement, "It worked."

"Yes, Jim, it did. And will again and again, eventually becoming second nature." Blair was pleased and wanted to take the testing a step further. "Now smell around the droppings. Do you get a scent of the animal itself?"

Jim refocused on the droppings and the area around them, "Yes, it's something in the roo family."

"Great, Jim. Can you tell which direction it traveled?" Blair waited, knowing that Jim would.

"Yeah, I can. He went north. Wow, that's great."

"Yeah, Jim, you are." Blair was like a proud papa, bouncing on his feet, smiling.

Jim beamed at the praise.

Blair rummaged in the ice cooler and pulled out a soda. He put it in Jim's hand, making sure his fingers covered the ingredients. "Take a sip."

"It's a soda, Professor."

"Yeah, now take a sip but hold it in your mouth. Separate the ingredients. What's in the soda?"

Jim held a mouthful to humor the kid. The closed his eyes in earnest as he could taste the corn syrup, the caffeine, caramel coloring, even a hint of salt."

Even more amazed, Jim swallowed, "I did it, Sandburg. The corn syrup and caffeine were so easy to pick out. Wow." He took another sip and did it again. There was something, a flavor he didn't know so he concentrated more fully...

"..im, follow my voice," he heard some words and felt Blair touch him. He knew it was Blair, but he didn't know why he knew it was Blair. The voice, Blair's voice called to him, "Come on back, Jim. That's it. You're fine."

"I'm here," he stated the obvious.

"Yeah, but you zoned for a few seconds. You responded immediately to my voice though." Blair explained.

Jim thought about that. He knew that when this happened with the captain, Simon had to slap his face to snap him out of the blank time. He didn't mention it to the scientist before him because he couldn't explain it.

He did talk about the failure. "Damn. See...I do something and blank out. I can't be doing that as a cop. Let's just forget this."

Almost exasperated, "Jim, we just started. What we need to do is practice. We need to develop your control. Discover what works and what doesn't. It won't happen overnight. You've had no training and we need to break the bad habits and replace them with control." Blair tried to remain patient.

Blair's no training comment touched a deeply buried memory. Startled, he spoke it aloud. "I've had some training."

"What? Where? When? Jim?" Blair was now confused.

Jim closed his eyes, trying to capture the memory. "I see a man with a painted face. It reminds me...I know, of the Chopec. The tribe I stayed with in Peru."

"You had your senses there?" Blair inquired softly.

Jim shook his head as the memory faded, "The truth is I don't remember much of anything about the jungle."

Blair nodded, his memories of the news article remembered. "A year and a half spent in the bush? You were the sole survivor of your unit? I mean, I'm no professional analyst, but that sounds pretty damn traumatic to me. And trauma tends to get repressed. And you must admit, you repress well."

Jim could give him that, "Okay. Let's say I buy this. Why is this coming back now?"

Blair's shoulder's slumped, "I don't know but your time spent in Peru has got to be connected to what is happening to you now. Are the circumstances the same? Stranded in a vast area with someone's survival dependant on you? Possibly even with your talent for suppression the circumstances superceded your self-preservation instinct because you needed to protect the tribe. This time, the tribe being me."

Jim shrugged, "Protecting you is my job, senses or no senses."

"Exactly! Jim, all you've done, whatever the venue has been to protect and help others. It is an instinctual part of you."

"So you're saying I don't have any free will. That's just as bad. I hate this." Jim went outside and took a walk alone.

Blair realized that with practice that Jim would be awesome. He just needed a little time to get Jim used to it. The control issue would be the hardest part. Not the control of his senses, but loss of control in other parts of his life. The man was proud and stubborn.

The anthropologist could see that the coast was clear so he headed out for his own walk. He wanted Jim to have to track him, he would be practicing and possibly see how useful they could be. He climbed over their hideout and ducked in behind a big rock and waited.

Jim stood still and watched the sun set. He enjoyed his walk, just not the reason for it. He knew gut-level, that Sandburg was trying to help. But he was an anthropologist for god's sake, he was thrilled with this turn of events. He just didn't get how this impacted a real life.

Suppression worked before, he would just have to understand that it was for the best. With a decision made, he headed back to their shelter.

He planned to stay one more night under the tarp, just in case. Tomorrow they could begin the journey back to Alice Springs the long way. He would complete his usual patrol. That should give Simon several more days to locate Kincaid and Quinn.

He felt something wrong as soon as he stepped into the cave. It was the absence of the witness. He called out, "Blair? Are you okay?" He received no answer. He went back outside and searched the landscape for him. Nothing.

Jim knew there was no way that anyone had taken Sandburg, so he must be off on a pout. He'd let him be but for the danger of the Yellow-faced Whipsnake. It was the venomous snake out here and although reluctant to bite, would do so when startled. He needed to find the runaway.

Earlier, Blair had him track the kangaroo by scent. Could he do the same with Sandburg? He walked back in the cave and picked up his shirt. He sniffed it and memorized it. He stood outside the cave and sniffed the air. The man was close. He moved away and could easily tell that he was leaving the scent behind. He turned and followed it. He tracked Sandburg's scent over the top and to the other side. He was still hidden from view, but he was close to being on top of him. He jumped down to the ground and looked up and sure enough, there was Blair, huddled under the outcropping.

"You ready to come down?" Jim asked.

"How'd you find me?" Blair asked a question instead.

Jim answered automatically, "I tracked your scent."

Blair turned his head to the side as he asked seriously, "Is it really useless, Jim?"

"Dammit, Sandburg, are you gonna force me to change my mind again?" Jim already knew the answer to that.

"I can only hope."

"Come on, it's your turn to cook." Jim motioned the man down. Blair did as bid.

***

The evening was spent playing cards as Jim outlined his plan. "I want to travel east across the Victoria Desert to Witjira National Park. We'll spend a night there, use the facilities there. Can you say shower?" Jim smiled at Sandburg's happy sigh. "Then travel north to Alice Springs, coming in from the east side. It's not what would be expected. We won't come across any facilities 'til Witjira. I have enough gas to get there."

"Okay, Jim. On this issue, I trust you completely. Whatever is fine by me." Sandburg liked the idea that they would remain isolated for a bit longer. He needed to get Jim to practice his sense control.

"We don't have to get up especially early, just when we wake natural." Jim told his companion as they readied for sleep. "I want to use the tarp our last night here for insurance. I'll sleep better knowing we can't get picked out."

It was for that last reason alone Blair didn't argue. Jim was a sentinel, whether he believed it or not. His need to stand guard would be pushing at him, so this would allow him to let his guard down. Blair pushed aside that the fact he liked sleeping near the exhilarating man.

Jim did a final patrol before laying aside Blair and pulling the trap over them.

It was still dark when Blair woke to find that he was completely curled around Jim. He liked this feeling, he liked where he was. This, added to the other little indicators all pointed to Blair having to face that he was most likely Jim's guide.

How does one guide anyone that does not wish it? He'd only just touched on the guide question in passing. Jim hadn't been anywhere near ready for the depth of commitment that would entail. He may never be. That damn control issue again.

What else did he say, Blair remembered, 'You are not a cop.' No shit, but Jim was going to need him anyway. He would have to work slowly and try not to annoy too greatly. Okay, that's the plan, for tomorrow. Right now he just wanted to snuggle deeper into the arms that were holding him.

Jim's first awareness was marked by a rhythmic cadence that was comforting. He then realized that once again he had become tangled up in Sandburg as he slept. In those few moments before true wakefulness, Jim allowed himself to enjoy the closeness. He stretched out with all his senses in curiosity not realizing that he had an instinctual need to catalog the man lying next to him. He saw the dark curls and the chest raising and falling in even movements. He listened to the even movements and recognized the rhythmic cadence that he had been sleeping to, Blair's heartbeat. His nose twitched, the scent of Sandburg was so earthy, he found himself wanting more and he leaned in to the neck area where he knew the scent was stronger.

The lean brought his lower body in direct physical contact and set afire his sense of touch. He felt himself harden against Blair's leg and suddenly knew that he was almost lost. His iron self control took over and he left Sandburg where he lay and hurried outside.

He busied himself by getting a jug of water from the jeep along with a washcloth and a towel. He wetted down the washcloth and ran it over his face, neck and chest. He washed his armpits last and stuck the used cloth into a ziplock bag. As he put on deodorant, he wished he could shave. He had brought his rechargeable electric razor with him but found it irritated his skin so much that it wasn't worth it. He figured he should offer it to Sandburg, the guy already showed heavy growth for two days.

Sandburg woke to the smell of coffee again. As he stretched, he looked around and noticed that all of Jim's stuff had already been packed.

He gratefully took the mug of coffee and downed half the mug before he smiled and said, "Good morning. And thanks," He held the mug indicating what his thanks was for.

Jim pointed to the open tailgate, "There's water, a washcloth and towel. Also, the electric razor, if you want."

Blair rubbed his five o'clock shadow times two and grinned, "Yeah, I want it. Thanks."

After taking care of business, they loaded the jeep. They left little or no trace of their stay behind. Jim pointed the vehicle east and they started across the Victoria.

After looking at a map that just confirmed for him that there was tons of desert in front of them, Blair turned the conversation toward the topic he wanted to discuss, sentinels.

"Jim, the key to control is concentration. The key to concentration is focus. With a little practice, the control of the dials will become automatic because you'll be able to focus on demand."

A slight nod was the only indication that Jim was listening. Blair took comfort that at least Jim wasn't clenching his jaw.

In teacher mode, he continued, "As you well know, in mastering a skill, it takes practice, trial and error to accomplish this. The error part is very important. With each error we learn more than with the successes."

"Errors can kill!" Jim's jaw was now tight.

"That's why we must practice, discover our errors and correct them."

"Okay, Sandburg. We're not driving all day, so we'll practice this afternoon." Jim's voice said, end of subject.

With that concession, Blair gladly changed the subject. "So do you follow any sports? I have a hard time getting into cricket."

Jim nodded, "Basketball."

"Here? I didn't know that there was an Australian league." Blair was astonished.

"There isn't. An old friend sends me tapes of the Cascade Jags, a season at a time. Eighty-two regular season games and up to twenty-six post season games. The times they've made the playoffs, I've brought those tapes into headquarters. Simon, Joel and Henry love to watch them." Jim shared.

"Wow, that sounds like fun. What a great way to spend time with your coworkers." Blair enthused.

"I just give the tapes to Simon. I don't stay to watch. I have a job to do," Jim clarified.

Blair heard a wealth of loneliness in those three sentences.

"I love the Jags. Have followed them for a long time. I have a rookie card of Orvelle Wallace's. He is my favorite player of all time. He signed that card for me when I was in junior high. I can still remember the day he signed that thing. There was like fifty of us kids out there after the game. And all the other players...some of them signed, but most just walked by. But Orvelle -- he took his time with each one of us. I mean, he asked us how we were doing; he told us to stay in school, stuff like that. It was funny. It seemed like he really cared. It's something I'll never forget." Blair turned and looked out the window, kind of embarrassed at sharing that story.

Jim couldn't help but wonder if Blair had ever shared that story with anyone.

"That sounds just like the guy. Real upstanding and decent." Jim just couldn't let the kid think he'd fluff off that story, it seemed too personal.

Blair responded to the respect that Jim conveyed, "Yeah, that's how I always thought of him." Then Blair had a need to lighten the mood and take the focus off him. "Now, on the other hand, Dwight Roshman could use some lessons in sportsmanship."

"He's starting to believe his own press..."

They spent the rest of the morning arguing the merits of the basketball team.

***

Jim selected an area that would afford them a lot of shade. It was early afternoon and Jim was ready to set up camp.

"We're not in a rush to return to headquarters, so we'll take a slower pace back. After we've set up we can hike over to that ridge. We'll have a great view of a large wallaby herd."

"Sounds great, man." Blair agreed and helped Jim remove the camping items from the vehicle.

They did a snack food, piecemeal lunch then filled two water bottles and headed for the ridge. They walked a leisurely pace. It was hot and they really weren't in any hurry.

Blair loved the view atop the ridge and he figured it must be even better for Jim. The protected witness loved the irony of his current situation. Now that he wasn't worried about dying out here he loved it, last week he was cursing it. Kincaid was providing him the opportunity to explore the country, just not the way the man had planned.

He watched as Jim stood facing the desert landscape, almost as still as the baobabs. Blair found himself fascinated by the enigma that was named Jim. At times, like this moment, he seemed in tune with the serenity around him. Then, Blair would see the blue eyes that were the personification of ancient pain and he would have to start all over again.

The captivated anthropologist switched into guide mode. "What do you see?" He broke the tranquil silence.

Jim felt a twinge of irritation at the intrusion but then remembered that he probably didn't see what he saw. "The desert."

"No, what all can you see?"

With a deep sigh, Jim focused on the bottom of the plateau, "Scrub, spinifex and saltbush."

"Good! Now focus on the spinifex, look at the base of the tall grasses and tell me what you see."

Jim felt the hand at his back as he reached out with his sight. Some awe escaped to color his voice, "Insects. Some kind of ants, a few spider webs. One has the remains of a beetle." Jim's satisfaction was reflected in his stance.

Blair looked down over the edge. He didn't like the feeling and stepped back a bit. "All I see are shrubs." He smiled a pleased-with-you smile at the sentinel.

Jim noted the look and action about the ridge edge. He'd question it later.

Blair patted Jim's arm and pointed out, "Way out yonder, I can see a slightly darker area. Can you focus on it? How far do you think it is?"

Jim turned his attention out over the vast open area that was not barren as one would think the desert was, but a boundless array of dry living plants. He found the dark spots that Sandburg had referred to and reset his focus. "That's a grove of Ghost Gums."

"How far?" the scientist asked.

"About forty kilometers." He couldn't remember if Sandburg mentioned whether he was conversant in metric so he Americanized it without his having to ask. "Roughly twenty five miles."

"That's so bitchin'! Wow! Jim, that is great! Blair bounced on his heels in an effort to contain his excitement at Jim's ability. "You had any problem shifting from near to far?"

Jim cocked his head to the side as he really thought about the process, "No. None."

"Excellent! Now, let's do the same for hearing."

Jim didn't quibble, he was actually pleased with the sight test. He first found the insects with his sight then just listened to them. He could hear them walking. He could also hear some digging going on underground. There was some rustling to the right of his focus area. He heard first, then saw a snake, a Whipsnake. He tracked it with his hearing into the burrow it was hunting. He relayed all this to Sandburg who had continued to keep his hand on the indentation of his lower back.

In the minutest of whispers, Blair directed, "Now the gum trees."

Jim, who had no problem hearing the directive, didn't realize that Sandburg had lowered his voice as much as he had.

He focused on the Ghost gums and detected movement, he let his hearing take over again and heard what sounded like an argument. The sounds became raucous. The practicing sentinel followed the blaring sounds and then tried to see what was causing all the commotion. All he could spot was a bird. He said as much to Sandburg.

"What's it look like? Describe it."

"Humm, dark brown head. White eyebrow area. His throat is white and his back is brown." Jim told him what he saw.

"Compare him size wise to a common bird," Blair recommended.

Jim thought, "Robin size."

Blair thought of the arid area and the vegetation was mallee and mulga. He pondered aloud, "You said it sounded like an argument?"

"Yes, Professor."

Blair nodded more to himself than Jim. "Yeah, it's probably a babbler. It's like he's on a sugar rush. He boisterous and yet sounds quarrelsome." Blair turned and looked at the man, "That's so cool, man." His eyes shinned with the pride he felt for Jim's accomplishment.

Jim looked away, uncomfortable with the accolades coming his way regarding his senses. Not a usual occurrence for him. He shrugged at Sandburg.

"Okay," Blair accepted that and blazed on, "Now search the plateau and see if you can find a mammal with your nose."

"The wallaroos are easy. Their scent is pretty concentrated."

"Okay...back track them. Which direction did they come in from?"

Jim balked at that, "When am I going to need to know where a herd came from?"

"You could be you own forensics department. I bet that with a honed sense of smell you'd be unstoppable. You may need to retrace a crime scene. Just try it." Blair pleaded.

Jim turned his head and closed his eyes. He found the scent and followed it through a maze of odd shaped circles. He was finally able to unravel the puzzle. "They came in from the east. They've been in that same area for several days."

Blair bounced, "Do you hear yourself? And you're transferring back and forth between the different ones. See? You're good. Just you wait, with practice and bam, you'll be unbeatable."

Blair walked about, just nowhere near the edge. He commented, "We know your sense of taste rocks. So, there is touch left, but we need to work on that in a more controlled environment until I know what you show allergic reactions to."

Jim looked puzzled, "Allergic? To what?"

"Okay, have you stopped wearing any of your clothes because they were scratchy or irritated your skin? Have you stopped wearing aftershave? Change your shampoos? Soap?" Blair bombarded the man next to him with examples.

Jim thought on how he didn't like some of his collared shirts lately and didn't put his tee shirts in the dryer. "Yeah."

Blair's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Yeah...what?"

"Well, yeah to a lot of the stuff you said." Jim figured he should have remembered what he had just said.

"I mentioned a lot of things. Which ones? All?" Blair felt like a dentist trying to extract teeth from a man with his jaw wired shut.

"The clothes. Some felt uncomfortable. I don't wear aftershave anymore. I use an Ivory type soap. My skin was feeling dry." Jim finally shared with a shrug.

"I can help you locate soaps for body and laundry use. We can check out what are the more pleasing materials against your skin." Blair paused, then continued in a different vein. "I bet you've stopped eating some types of food."

"Yeah, some of the spicy stuff. But that's been tough to find here, anyway. Australian food is somewhat bland," Jim agreed.

Blair thought on that, "Yeah, at least to Americans. We tend to like a lot of spicy stuff." He cocked his head to the side, "What we did with the soda yesterday, you ever unconsciously done that to food?" Blair would have rather just been able to ask a list of straightforward questions, but Jim was relativity hard to pin down.

Jim thought, then sighed, "Not really. There may have been a time or two when I was still in Cascade but not since I've been here. I've just tried hard to forget them completely."

Blair's head bobbed up and down, "Seems like you've kept three of your heightened senses truly suppressed. You used sight and hearing?"

Jim had to think about it honestly. He sat on the rocks facing away from the wide open plateau. His voice lowered, "I've known, on some level, that since Peru I was different, but I wouldn't dwell on it. If the Army taught you nothing else, it taught you to push away any thoughts that were unnecessary to the mission. My mission was fitting in. So weird stuff had to stay away. But, if I think about it, I did use my hearing a lot. Sight would come and go, but I would find myself searching with my ears. But I had headaches a lot. " Jim rubbed his face with his hands, then still covered, let his whole head droop down. That was a lot to disclose and he hated this personal junk.

Blair wasn't surprised by the revelation. Jim could be very closed mouthed. "Okay, let's go get the chairs, something to drink and come back up here to watch the sun set. Then I'll make dinner."

Jim nodded as he stood up and they walked back to camp. While Jim collected the sodas, Blair removed some foiled wrapped meat wedged between the ice blocks.

The anthropologist had learned earlier that Jim made the big blocks of ice. Ice wasn't a big thing in Australia, it was hard to come by. So Jim'd had a special cooler made so that the ice would hardly melt on his long patrols. Blair knew he was with a well prepared man.

Back on top of the ridge, seated comfortably, legs stretched out, Blair reverted to instructor mode. He lowered his voice and requested in even tones, "Jim, close your eyes. Take several breaths. Inhale, then slowly release the air. Feel any tension leave with the CO2."

The voice danced along his eardrums, calming, soothing the savage beast that lived within. He automatically followed the directions the voiced asked him to do.

Blair watched as Jim complied, not a word in opposition was uttered. "Now, center your focus inward. I want you to find your dial control pad. It has all five of your dials. Find it?"

Jim nodded. "Mummm."

"Find the dial for hearing. What's it on?"

"Four."

"Fine. Lower it. Leave all the other dials alone. Lower hearing until you can't detect any sound, then bring it back up to four."

Blair watched Jim's head turn from side to side. When his face relaxed, he asked, "How low?"

"Just before zero."

"Wow! Okay, now, slowly raise it. Find what too loud and uncomfortable is then quickly lower it to your comfort zone."

So far, Jim had kept his eyes closed. After a few seconds, they popped open. "I can't get very far, a pounding close by gets too loud," Jim explained.

"Jim, You really have all the control. Isolate the sound, then click off its dial. Leave the rest of your hearing on."

Jim tried exactly what Sandburg directed and it worked. The loud rhythmic pounding was gone. He heard the wind whip by and followed it, a song calling him.

"Jim, follow my voice. Come back now."

A voice that was sweeter than the wind called to him and he followed it instead and it led him home. He recognized the voice, it was Blair's.

"Jim, what sound did you turn off?" Blair questioned trying to discover what triggered the zone out.

Jim shrugged, "A loud pounding. I've heard it before, but I don't remember where from."

"Okay, my fault you zoned. Sorry. Let's try it again." Blair lightly placed his hand on Jim's arm and directed, "Cast your hearing out, let your subconscious register on my hand."

Jim closed his eyes and followed the wind but didn't get lost in it this time. "Nineteen," he announced a few minutes later.

"Double wow. Are you back to your comfort level?" Jim nodded. Blair continued, "Let's try scent. First test how low. Go down to scents being picked up."

"Five. Then down to one."

"Now, how high."

Jim realized he could smell Blair strongly, but it wasn't offensive so he stretched out. The animal dung below was too much at fifteen. He switched to just Sandburg and found himself relaxed again. He figured it must be the familiar amid all the new.

"I stopped at fifteen. The walleroo dung was too potent."

"Go there again, but this time turn the dung off."

Jim prepared himself for another whiff of the bad odor and was surprised at how easy it was to tune it out.

Blair watched the different expressions flit across the strong man's face. He bet himself that Jim was unaware how expressive he was when relaxed. He wasn't about to mention it.

Jim opened his eyes, "Hey, that worked." His pleased surprise still on his face.

"Now, if you are someplace with an overpowering odor, it doesn't have to take you out." Blair tried to apply a practical use to the exercise.

Jim nodded, "Like a crime scene with a decaying corpse." He conceded that this could have some useful purposes.

"This method can be applied to each of your senses. Jim, with practice you'll be able to isolate just one sound or one scent that you would want to follow. Could be useful in your line of work, right?"

"Yeah, it could," he conceded. Jim wasn't ready to open his arms and embrace this sense thing, but it had potential.

They watched the sun set in a companionable silence. When the last traces of the red orb slid below the horizon, Blair went back to camp to get dinner ready.

After a meal of grilled steak and fried potatoes, Jim brought out two beers he had stashed away.

The night was warm so they moved their chairs away from the fire. Jim handed Blair a beer and twisted the top and took a long sip of his. He hadn't had one since before he had discovered Blair. Jim guessed he felt safe enough out here to risk Blair's safety.

"Good beer. I have found that Australia doesn't export their good stuff. Thanks." Blair held up his bottle.

Jim nodded and took another sip, enjoying the flavor in a different way.

Blair pointed above him, "Look the Southern Cross, man, and the Scorpion. S'cool. That constellation looks so much bigger out here. There are so many stars out there." Blair looked over at man sitting next to him and curiosity got the better of him, "Hey, Jim, what do you see?"

"This a test?"

"Not really, I'm just curious. Do you see more? Even up there?"

The sincerity swayed Jim into trying. He looked up and increased his sight dial. "I see lots of stars. Do I see more than you? I don't know, how many do you see?"

Blair realized that he couldn't tell the difference. He remembered his afternoon at the observatory in Darwin. "Okay, take the Southern Cross, can you find the four points?"

"Sure."

"Gauge how bright they are. Can you find any points larger that are brighter?" Blair was trying to describe a star cluster.

"Completely opposite the cross, a huge white dot. If my memory serves me, it's the Omega Centauri Cluster."

"Cooler. Usually I'm laughed at for even knowing the constellation names. Yeah, that cluster is our brightest. I guess you may see more, but it doesn't matter." Blair sat up in his seat and pointed, "See the Great Rift there," he pointed to the center of the Milky Way, "You know what makes up the dark spots around the bright points?"

Jim smiled, "Interstellar dust. It doesn't let the starlight behind it get through."

"How about around the edges of the galaxies?" Blair loved having someone to actually talk to about one of his many loves.

"Nope, more dust?" Jim asked and his voice conveyed real interest.

"It's called Dark Matter. The astronomers are still in the studying phase, it's so cool to think of all the new stuff they keep discovering."

"Okay, Professor, tell me about it." Again, he really did want to know, he was just amazed how much this guy kept in his head.

"Okay, to grasp the idea of Dark Matter, it's important to understand it is material that is invisible to all forms of electromagnetic radiation. Dark Matter is sometimes defined as mass that does not shine. Because we can't see it by conventional means, astronomers have had to turn to other methods to detect its presence.

Scientists know Dark Matter exists in globular clusters because we see its effects on light from galaxies behind the clusters. Dark Matter in a cluster bends light. It produces a gravitational lens effect. This effect multiplies the number of galaxies we see and makes distant galaxies appear closer and brighter than they should."

"Is that why we can see the Andromeda Galaxy with the naked eye?" Jim asked still staring up at the night sky.

"Nope, that's just the closest one and we can only see it here in the Southern Hemisphere. There are so many stars close together it appears that bright. If we could see farther galaxies through the Hubbell telescope, you would notice the Dark Matter only after it was pointed out. But it sure is cool to contemplate."

"It's obvious that you love this stuff, so why not astronomy instead of anthropology?"

"I love a lot of subjects, but studying people at least kept me on the peripheral. I could feel included." Blair silenced himself. He was talking too much. Damn the beer.

Jim so understood what Blair had just said that it frightened him. He knew that Blair had been lonely a great deal of the time growing up but this translated into all the time. It hit too close to home to talk about it.

Blair walked back to their tent and pulled out his sleeping bag. "It's warm enough that I'm gonna sleep out here under the stars." With that he laid on top of the sleeping bag and folded his arms behind his head and stared silently at the night sky.

Jim waited silently for Sandburg to fall asleep. Then he dragged his sleeping bag outside and slept close enough to keep an eye on him.

[ Continued in Part 2 ] [ Back to Index ]