Chapter Text
“We’re going to need someone on the podium next to professor Peters,” Don said and looked around the room. The agents, sitting around the large table in the conference room, all seemed to be very interested in the ceiling or the floor.
Don sighed “Look I don’t want someone up there that has anything against these people.” A few snorts made Don narrow his eyes and the mumbling in the corners stopped.
“Look, those freaks…” Agent Simone began but immediately stopped when Don actually growled at her.
“You’ll…” Don started but was interrupted but Colby.
“I’ll do it, Don. No problem,” the agent said and nodded to the team leader.
“Okay,” Don said “We need to make sure this doesn’t turn into as huge a mess as the lectures held in New York,” a mumbled agreement was all he got.
“Professor Matty Peters is one of the most outspoken carrier-rights activists out there. He’s been receiving death threats for quite some time but recent events indicate that this isn’t just another crazy loon with too much time on his hands,” Don looked at the picture of Matty Peters. The professor was in his early thirties but like most carriers he looked at least a few years younger than his actual age.
“But why’ve we been assigned to this case?” David asked, “Wouldn’t this normally be a case for the police? If it’s just a question of providing protection for him during his lecture…”
“Two months ago…” Don leafed through a small collection of photos on the table, “…someone tried to run Peters off the road. He ended up driving his car into a wall,” Don put a picture of a mangled car on the board, “He was four months pregnant and lost the child.”
“Damn,” David said.
“He’s here with his partner and their children,” Megan said and put three more pictures on the board. A small girl with a face full of freckles grinned out at them, a boy with blue eyes and his front teeth missing and a thirty something dark-haired man.
“We’ve made sure they’re safe at the hotel during the lecture,” Don pointed out.
“What kind of back-up are we getting?” Colby asked.
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“This is Agent Granger,” Don said as he introduced the agent to Matty Peters. The
young man nodded and shook hands with Colby.
“Is the security…sufficient?” Matty asked and looked around at the large auditorium.
“We have people situated all over the place. Not just in here but all over CalSci,” Don reassured Peters and looked at Colby.
“I’ll be up there,” Colby pointed at the small podium, “I’ll be standing close, keeping an eye on things from there.”
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Colby was on the phone, talking softly “No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” he said and smiled “You tell him that…Naw I’ll talk to him about it later, tomorrow I think…” Colby looked thoughtful then smiled and whispered “Yeah, me too.”
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Don looked over at Colby. The younger agent was scanning the room as he stood behind and slightly to the left of Matty Peters.
“In the start of the 19th century the first carriers were born…” the professor started.
Don’s attention was caught by a middle-aged woman sitting on the second row. She was wearing a button badge with the words Carriers: an abomination among us. Don studied her for awhile before turning his attention back to Peters.
“These boys were believed to suffer from birth defects. Doctors back then were baffled by these children. In a world where freak shows still toured the fairs - a society where Joseph Merrick, the Elephant Man, spent the majority of his life in a cage - these children were an embarrassment to their families. Most of the carriers ended up in insane asylums sent there by their own families. At the time the asylums were the only institutions, apart from prisons, equipped to deal with society’s unwanted elements.”
Don shifted uncomfortably, distributing his weight from one foot to the other. The clackity-clack of a student taking notes on a small laptop was grating on Don’s nerves.
As he scanned the room for possible danger he tuned in to the professors voice again.
”…and most of the carriers underwent painful surgery to make them, at least appear, more male. Even today I see young carriers, who desecrate their bodies in an attempt to live up to what society views as masculine. They take hormones that make their skin rougher, their bodies more muscular. But they pay for this deception with their lives. Heart attacks in their early thirties, higher risk of diabetes…”
Personally Don tried to keep as far away from carriers as possible. He hated handling cases that involved them. They always made him remember his mother’s sadness and his father’s ashen face. Remembered how his father had tried to explain why he wouldn’t be seeing the new baby. Why the baby was going to live somewhere else.
”The families that chose to keep their children, despite society’s obvious disapproval, were and are often victims of verbal and physical abuse…”
Colby caught Don’s attention and nodded in the direction of a group of young men. They were shifting in their seats and seemed to be gearing up for something. Suddenly one of them started slowly unfolding a large banner. He handed the other end of the homemade banner over to one of the other men and then they held the banner up, the fabric stretching, revealing the words ‘ Justice for the forgotten children’. The corners of Colby’s mouth twitched before he smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
”Today, when a carrier child is born, the parents are offered the possibility to give up their child. It is still shameful…” Peters sighed, ”…to be the parent of a carrier. Most of the children who end up in the social system don’t leave the group homes, what was once known as Carrier Houses, before they come of legal age. Practically none of these children are adopted or end up in foster homes.”
”Isn’t it true…” a bulky student asked, ”That IQ test have shown that a majority of carriers score in the lower half of the IQ scale?”
”In the forties and fifties,” Peters smiled at the student, ”Australian scientists let a large group of Aboriginals take IQ tests. The results showed that Aboriginals were basically retarded and couldn’t grasp the most fundamental aspects of things like math.”
”Uh huh,” the student nodded and scribbled frantically on his notepad.
”What the scientists forgot to mention, when they presented their results to their colleagues, was that the Aboriginals tested hadn’t had any education what so ever and a great amount of them couldn’t understand English, the language the test was written in.”
”Um…how does that apply to carriers?” a woman sitting on the third row asked.
”Well, most carriers that are adults today were taught to read and write in the Carrier Houses. The level taught was very low and a great deal of carriers came out of the Houses with only the bare minimum as far as reading and writing is concerned.”
”Now,” the professor held up his hand when a few of the students started to murmur, ”I’ll be the first to admit that things have changed since the last of the Carrier Houses were closed 15 years ago and the group homes were started instead. At least now the carriers grow up surrounded by other boys and girls. They aren’t isolated and their level of education has risen because of it. Not to forget…”
“But don’t you think,” a young blond woman interrupted, ” Sorry…” she blushed, ”But don’t you think you’re asking for too much too fast? The Carrier Houses have been shut down and…”
“Ah, but why were they shut down?” Peters asked rhetorically, “They were only shut down because of the scandals. The public outcry when it became known that many of the children living in the Carrier Houses were sexually abused by those designated by the state to care for them.”
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“Okay,” Don said as he escorted the professor out of the double doors and down the hall, “You’ll have to stay in this office while we wait for the crowd to thin out,” Don opened the door and Colby walked into the office first.
The young agent made sure the room was empty and then nodded to Don. Peters walked in and Don closed the door behind him.
“Thank you,” Peters said and sat down on the small couch in the office. Colby walked over and looked out the window.
“Seems we’ll only have to wait a little while longer,” Colby said as he watched the crowd slowly dissolve.
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“It’s strange how hateful people can be,” David said when they sat drinking in the bar. Don just nodded.
“There’ll always be some ass who thinks he has a right to treat other people like trash,” Colby leant back in his chair.
“Yeah,” David smiled, “Peters seems like a nice guy. I just…I mean he fights a pretty hard battle and even when he’s injured…even when he loses his unborn child he still keeps going.”
“Takes a lot of guts to be doing the kind of thing he’s doing,” Don fiddled with the label on his beer bottle.
Colby nodded and was about to say something when his cell phone rang. He fumbled for a few seconds before he finally managed to fish the phone out of his jeans pocket.
“Colby,” Colby said and scratched his ear, “Oh…no that’s okay…yeah,” he smiled and nodded, “Oh yeah…no maybe an hour or so…Sure…uh huh…You do that…Bye,” Colby put the phone back in his pocket.
“Got a hot date?” David smirked.
“Yep,” Colby took a sip of his beer.
“Do we get details about her?” Don was surprised when his question was met with a frown.
“No…um…you don’t,” Colby said and got up, “I better get going.”
“You okay to drive?” David asked his friend.
“I only had one beer, Sinclair. I’ll be fine,” Colby said as he walked out of the bar.
“He’s always so secretive about his private life,” David looked at the empty chair on the other side of the table.
“I thought you guys talked about all kinds of things,” Don looked up from the beer label. It lay in tiny pieces scattered all over the table.
David gathered the small pieces of paper that Don had littered the table with and just shrugged.
“One more round?” Don asked and got up.
“Sure, one more.” David agreed.
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Colby parked his car and walked up the path to the house. He almost tripped over something and turned around and picked up a toy.
“Action Man,” Colby shook his head and smiled, “Simon, how many times do I have to tell you?” He tucked the plastic soldier in his coat pocket and found his keys. He unlocked the door and walked in. Music was coming from the living room and he tiptoed over to the door and looked in.
The room was a mess. Toys scattered all over the place and a blanket fort build in the corner, using the dinner table and all the chairs to support the blankets. On the couch a three year old curly haired boy was sleeping, a floppy eared stuffed bunny hanging from his small chubby hand.
Colby silently walked over to the boy and knelt down. He ran his hand through the light-brown curls and dried a glob of drool of the boy’s cheek.
“He passed out twenty minutes ago,” a soft whisper came from the doorway.
“Yeah, figured as much,” Colby lifted his son up and cradled him against his chest.
“How’s your day been, Charlie?” Colby whispered.
“Okay,” Charlie answered and started picking up the toys.
“Just leave them,” Colby said, “You been at CalSci all day working with Larry and I’m sure Simon’s kept you on your feet all day as well.”
“You have no idea,” Charlie chuckled as they walked down the hallway to Simon’s room, “I saw you at the university,” he continued.
“Yeah?” Colby gently put the little boy down on the bed. Simon snuffled and turned in his sleep.
“I saw Matty Peters as well,” Charlie said and bent over to pull Simon’s socks off. The boy was already wearing his pjs so Colby just tucked him in.
“You weren’t at the lecture?” Colby asked.
“No,” Charlie said and walked over to the nightlight and turned it on just as Colby turned off the lamp in the ceiling, “I know you said it was safe to go…but,” Charlie unconsciously put his hand over his stomach and rubbed in a circular motion, “I just…didn’t want to risk it…if anything did happen.”
Colby nodded silently and just stood there watching his son sleep. Charlie was about to walk out of the room when Colby reached out for him and pulled him close.
“I’m glad you didn’t go, Charlie,” Colby whispered into the carrier's dark curls.