Unprovoked

"Hey!" Fermat exclaimed. He dropped his laptop in the grass, and waded into the fracas, straddling the legs of the two, grabbing at Alan's assailant's jacket with his good hand.

The impact from his attacker's grab caused Alan to drop his backpack and, as he instinctively brought his forearms around to break his fall, Fermat's bookbag went sailing. He tried to pull a scraped knee upward so he could shove himself to one side, off of the cement walkway. He succeeded; he and his attacker went rolling into the grass.

Unfortunately, their legs got tangled up in Fermat's, and the younger boy went down, too. He let go of his grip on the jacket with a startled cry, flailing about. He fell into the grass, intentionally twisting to one side as he remembered his cast. His glasses were knocked from his face. Alan and his assailant rolled once more until Alan swung an elbow into the other boy's ear. The attacker howled, and broke his hold. Alan pushed himself away, crab walking backwards a few steps until he could regain his footing. Swaying, he got to his feet and watched as Trey Mackenzie did the same.

"Fermat! You okay?" he shouted to his friend, while keeping an eye on the upperclassman.

"I think s-s-so!" Fermat replied as he pushed himself into a sitting position with a groan. A crowd was gathering, and someone picked up Fermat's glasses, returning them to him, as others helped him to his feet.

Trey, thinking Alan was distracted, tried to tackle him again, this time from the front. But Alan noticed the movement and stepped into the older boy's guard, delivering a sound punch to the gut that doubled Trey over. Then the younger boy jumped aside and let momentum carry his attacker forward. The senior fell to the ground, clutching his belly.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Mackenzie?" Alan cried, watching his opponent carefully, settled into a slight crouch as Scott had taught him, ready for another onslaught. A couple of students from the crowd advanced to help Trey, squatting down to pull the senior into a sitting position, while Fermat, and a just arrived Qaeshon, stepped in as back up for Alan.

"B-Bastard!" Trey wheezed, trying to catch his breath. "Liar! You said you wouldn't tell Belvedere! But you lied! You told her! And now I'll be expelled!"

"What?" Alan exclaimed, incredulous. "You're crazy! I didn't tell her anything!"

"You talked to her! You must have told her!" Trey was breathing easier now, though he was still holding his belly. "She called me to her office; said she had something she wanted to discuss with me. When I got there, she told me she knew about my... problem and would be calling my dad!" He paused to swallow. "Who else could have told her?"

"Sugi, that's who!" Qaeshon cried. "He had an appointment with her today himself!"

"Sugi wouldn't do that to me!" Trey retorted. "He's my friend! Friends don't rat on each other!"

Just then the crowd parted, and Mr. Magnuson approached, followed by Mr. Culp, and Ms. Bell. Alan straightened, and Trey climbed to his feet with help. Mr. Culp began breaking up the crowd while Ms. Bell approached Trey to examine him.

"All right," the security chief asked gruffly. "What's going on here?"

Alan and Fermat exchanged glances and sighed.

Jeff was at the breakfast table, finishing up his second cup of coffee when the phone rang. Kyrano went to answer it, the retainer's voice a slight murmur when compared to the laughter of Scott and Gordon, who was feeling much better. Suddenly, the boys hushed, their gaze shifting as Kyrano brought the phone to Jeff.

"It is the school, Mr. Tracy. There has been an incident."

"Coach is gonna kill me," Alan moaned softly. "Right after Dad does." He shook his head in despair.

Fermat rolled his eyes. "Y-Your father is n-not going to k-k-k... murder you," he said. "This wasn't your f-fault."

"I hope I can convince him of that," Alan replied. He craned his neck to try and see outside the infirmary's treatment room. "What do you think is going on?"

"I d-don't know," Fermat replied. He took off his glasses and peered at them critically. "These feel f-f-f... strange. I wonder if they're w-warped or something."

"Let me see," Alan said, taking the lenses from his friend's hands. "Hmm," he said as he squinted at the temples. "One of the hinges seems to be bent." He handed them back to Fermat. "I hope we can get them fixed."

"M-Me, too."

Ms. Bell came back in, a tray with bandages, small towels, and tubes of cleanser and salve on a tray. She pulled an adjustable bed table over to the examining couch, and put her burden down, then she took a fresh examination gown out of a drawer, handing it to him. "Okay, Alan. Take off your pants and put this on. I need to get to those knees. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Alan sighed, and got down from the couch. He pulled his slacks down and handed them off to Fermat. He slid his arms into the gown, shirt and all, and Fermat helped him tie it in the back. Then Alan gingerly got back up on the examining bed. He looked in disgust at the knees of his trousers, which were bloodstained and ripped. "I'll have to buy a new pair," he muttered.

"Ready in there?" Ms. Bell called.

"Ready."

She came in and put on a pair of medical gloves. "Lie down for me, Alan, so I don't have to lean over."

Alan lay back, putting his arms behind his head as she began to dab at the ugly scrapes with antibacterial cleanser. Her ministrations made Alan hiss, drawing his breath in through his teeth.

"Cold, is it?" she asked, looking him in the eye.

"Yeah. It's cold."

"Sorry about that." She continued to dab at the scrapes, wetting them thoroughly with cleaner soaked cotton balls. "Too bad about the pants. They're not really repairable. Fortunately, your knees are." She stopped and looked critically at her work. "I think that's clean. Just some salve and a bandage, then I'll do the other one."

As she was working, Mr. Magnuson came into the room, followed by a New Ashford police officer. Ms. Bell gave them a quick glance. "Go ahead and sit up to talk with these men. I'll do the other knee when you've finished."

"Alan, this is Officer Vega," Mr. Magnuson said. He turned to the other man. "This is Alan Tracy, and that's Fermat Hackenbacker."

"Hey," Alan said, extending his hand.

"H-Hello," Fermat said, following suit. The officer shook Alan's hand, then Fermat's. He pulled out a PDA, and began to scroll down through his notes.

"I already have the statements that you gave Mr. Magnuson, as well as the reports from a couple of eyewitnesses. It's pretty clear that Mr. Mackenzie was the instigator and that you were acting in self-defense, Alan." He looked up to catch Alan's eye. "The question is: will you be pressing charges?"

"Charges?" Alan asked, a puzzled frown on his face.

"Yes. Mr. Mackenzie can be arrested for simple assault," the officer explained. "I have to know whether or not to arrest him."

Alan paled; he looked troubled and shocked. Finally, he shook his head. "I don't know," he said softly. "I never thought about that."

Fermat glanced at Alan, then asked, "Wh-What would h-happen to him?"

"To Mr. Mackenzie?" Officer Vega asked. When Fermat nodded, the policeman replied, "He would be tried as an adult, seeing as he's already eighteen. If convicted, he could go to jail for up to two and a half years, or pay a fine of up to $1000."

This just increased Alan's shock and turned it to near horror. Looking up at the officer, he asked, "Can I talk to my dad about this?"

Officer Vega nodded. "Sure. But don't take too long."

"Here," Mr. Magnuson said, holding out his satellite phone. "Use this phone to call him. He's already heard from me, and very likely from Mrs. Belvedere as well."

"Okay. Thanks."

"I'll do the other knee now, Alan," Ms. Bell said. "Just lie back again." Alan nodded. Ms. Bell helped him bring his legs up onto the bed as he obeyed her. He began to dial his father's number.

The phone rang twice, and suddenly, his father's face appeared on the screen. "Alan! Are you all right?"

"Hey, Dad," Alan replied with relief. He pressed the phone to his ear. "I'm okay. I guess you heard what happened."

"Yes, son, I did," Jeff's tone was serious, but not accusing. "Mr. Magnuson called me. He said that you were attacked and defended yourself."

"That's about the gist of it," Alan said. He hissed again as Ms. Bell touched a particularly tender spot.

"Alan?" Jeff asked, waiting for an explanation.

"I'm all right, Dad. Ms. Bell's cleaning up my scrapes. It just smarts a little."

There was a pause, then Jeff asked, "How's Fermat? Is he all right?"

Alan glanced over at his friend, who was sitting in a chair near the wall, out of Ms. Bell's way. "Fermat? Yeah, he's okay." Fermat looked up, a surprised look on his face. "But I think his glasses might need repair."

"I'll get the name of a local optometrist. Does he have a spare?"

"Hey, Fermat!" Alan called. "Did you bring your spare pair of glasses?"

"Y-Yeah. I did."

"Cool." Alan turned his attention back to his father. "He's got one."

"Good." Jeff paused, then asked, "Do you need me to come?" An unspoken "do you want me to come?" was evident in his voice.

"I don't know yet, Dad. I'm thinking about it." Alan sighed. "I called because I need your advice."

"What is it? How can I help?"

"Well, the New Ashford police want to know if I'm going to press charges. I... I don't know what to tell them."

"Hmm." On the island, Jeff sat back in his chair. "That's a difficult question, son. I think it would depend on how badly he hurt you, and if you think he would be a danger to others."

"He didn't have much chance to hurt me," Alan admitted. "And... I don't think he'll be hurting anyone on campus again." He glanced over at Mr. Magnuson as he said, "I think he's been expelled." The security chief nodded slightly, confirming Alan's guess.

"Well, the choice is yours, Alan. But make it carefully. You have to weigh this boy's future against the good of society in general."

"I will, Dad."

There was a pause, then Jeff asked again, "So, do you want me to come?"

Alan thought about it some more, and shook his head, then remembering that the phone was at his ear, he said, "Well, I wouldn't mind it, but I don't think it's absolutely necessary. I'm good."

Jeff smiled slightly. The realization that his son was growing up, and growing away from him, stung now, the pain bittersweet as he acknowledged the inevitability of the situation.

"Well, if you're sure..."

"I'm sure, Dad. But thanks for the offer." Alan heard the undercurrent of disappointment in his father's voice, and spoke softly, "I'm okay, Dad. Really."

"I believe you, Alan. Just my fatherly instincts coming into play, that's all."

Jeff paused for a moment. Should I tell him? I think so; I think he needs something to look forward to. His voice brightened as he said, "I'll be seeing you at the end of next week anyway. Brains and I are coming to visit."

"Really?" Alan's delight couldn't be more evident. "To see a meet?"

Jeff chuckled. "Yes, yes. To see both you and Fermat in action."

"Oh, man! That will be soooo awesome! I can hardly wait!"

"I'm looking forward to it, too, Alan." Jeff grinned at his son's reaction. This was the right decision, and I'm sure Brains will concur. Maybe we can surprise the two of them later on.

Officer Vega peered into the treatment area, and Alan nodded to him. "Dad, I've got to go. Thanks for the advice. I appreciate it."

"Email or call me later with what you decided, okay?" Jeff instructed. "I need to know if there are any legal matters to be dealt with on our end."

"Right, Dad," Alan replied. "I'll talk with you later."

"Later, son."

"Okay. Bye." Alan hung up the phone and, as the security head and the police officer came back into the cubicle, he handed it to Mr. Magnuson.

"Well, Alan," Officer Vega asked. "Have you come to a decision?"

Alan nodded. "I have. I'm not pressing charges."

The policeman frowned slightly. "Are you sure?"

Alan nodded again, just once. "I'm sure."

"All right." The officer turned to Mr. Magnuson. "I guess we'd better tell Mr. Mackenzie the good news."

The two men left, and Ms. Bell shucked her gloves. "There, all done." Alan looked down at his knees - both covered with wide pieces of gauze that were taped on securely - as the nurse practitioner began her instructions. "I'm going to give you some more gauze, tape, and the rest of this tube of antibacterial ointment. For the next couple of days, I expect you to smear some on after you shower, then put a fresh bandage on. You don't have to come back when you run out. But don't pick at the scabs!"

"Yes, ma'am," Alan responded. He looked thoughtful, then asked, "Will I be able to go to track practice?"

"You can, but not this afternoon. I'll give you an excuse for the coach," Ms. Bell said. "See Sandy for the rest of your paperwork." She paused, then added, "And Ms. Belvedere would like to see you in her office." Picking up Alan's slacks, she smiled. "I'd stop by the dorm and change clothes, if I were you."

"I will."

"All right. You're free to go. Please try and stay out of trouble, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," Alan replied with a grin. She left the cubicle, pulling the curtain back over. He swung his legs around, and took off the gown, then began to slide his legs into the ruined trousers.

"What were you a-all e-e-e... hyper about?" Fermat asked as he began to gather their belongings.

"Oh man!" Alan said, grinning with excitement. "You're never going to believe it! Our dads are coming to see us compete!"

"What? When?" Fermat asked, his eyes wide with delight.

"Next week," Alan answered as he gingerly lowered himself to the floor. He fastened his pants, not bothering to tuck in his shirt tails, and picked up his backpack. "You want me to take your book bag?"

Fermat shook his head. "N-No. I can h-handle it." He pulled back the curtain, and the two boys made their way to the infirmary's front desk. "Next w-week? Are you sure?"

"Yeah! That's what my dad told me," Alan replied. He limped slightly, his knees still smarting from their injuries. They stopped by the desk, where Sandy gave them a smile.

"Here's your paperwork, Alan," the assistant said, holding out three printed sheets. "One is the note for Coach Evans, one is your treatment instructions, and the other is the acknowledgment of services." He held out a paper bag. "Here are the things Ms. Bell says you're to use." He pulled another piece of paper out of the printer and handed it to Fermat. "Just in case you need an excuse."

"Thanks," Alan replied.

"Y-Yeah, th-thanks," Fermat echoed.

"You're welcome," Sandy said simply. He turned back to the computer on his desk, and the two friends left the infirmary.

"At least Sugi won't be in the room when we get there," Alan commented as they walked slowly along to Chetwood.

"R-Right," Fermat said, nodding. "You won't have t-to put up with his t-teasing."

"Or worse."

They climbed the steps to the lobby and Alan held open the door for the more heavily-laden Fermat. Not for the first time was Alan glad his room was on the first floor; it made everything so much easier. He didn't bother to knock this time, just put his hand up to the door's scanner, unlocked the room, then entered. As he had surmised, Sugi wasn't there.

"Thanks for sticking with me, Fermat, and for sticking up for me," Alan said sincerely. "I know you did what you could to stop Trey, and I appreciate it a lot."

Fermat smiled sheepishly. "Well, wh-what are f-f-f... b-b-b... p-pals for?"

Alan chuckled, and gave Fermat a playful jab to the upper arm, then went to change his slacks.

"Jeff?" Brains said as he came to the office. "Wh-Wh-Wh... How are the b-boys?"

Jeff looked up at his engineer, and smiled at the sound of his first name. "Well, I can tell you're concerned. Sit down." He waved a hand toward the chairs by the desk.

"Alan called me a little bit ago. He wanted my advice on a legal matter."

"L-Legal matter?" Brains, in the process of seating himself, paused halfway to the chair's cushion and looked up sharply.

"Yes," Jeff replied. Brains's rear end resumed its downward motion, and he settled himself, crossing one lanky knee over the other. Jeff continued. " He wanted to know if he should press charges against the boy who attacked him."

"And w-will he?"

"I'm not sure, but I don't think he will. I tried to impress on him to try and balance the needs of society against the future of the boy. I'm pretty sure he got the message."

"What about F-F-Fermat?"

Jeff steepled his fingers. "Alan said that Fermat was all right, but did say that Fermat's glasses were damaged somehow." He laced his fingers together and lay them on his abdomen. "Alan was only scraped up. It seems the other boy got the worst of it."

Brains sighed with relief. "I'm so g-g-g... happy to h-hear that they weren't s-s-s... badly injured."

"No, they weren't, and I'm thankful," Jeff agreed. "Alan said he didn't need me coming right now, but I did tell him that we'd be visiting next week. I figured that would give them something to look forward to, and we could surprise them later in the school year."

Brains nodded. "I understand. G-Good call."

Both men looked upwards as a loud beeping began to sound.

"No rest for the weary," Jeff quipped. He put on a headset with a microphone, then opened a drawer and pressed his hand onto the scanner there. When the scanner's light turned green, he said, "Activate command and control. Access code, Mercury seven dash two dash five."

A feminine voice intoned, "Access code confirmed. Activating command and control."

The office began to transform into the command center of International Rescue as Scott, followed closely by Gordon, hurried in. Jeff opened communications with Thunderbird Five.

"International Rescue base to Thunderbird Five." Jeff glanced up quickly as Virgil walked in, wiping his paint stained hands on a rag.

"Thunderbird Five to base," John replied, his handsome face appearing on Jeff's monitor.

"What do you have for us, John?" Jeff asked as preparations for another rescue got underway.

Slacks changed, shirt tucked in, Alan hobbled as quickly as he could to Ms. Belvedere's office. He couldn't help feeling the need to limp; bending his knees was painful, though not unbearably so. He did take the steps in a normal fashion, if at a slower pace. Fermat had gone back to his own dorm to find his spare glasses, and start his homework.

The receptionist wasn't in the anteroom when he arrived, but the door to the inner office was open. He reached out, knocking gently on the door, and Ms. Belvedere raised her head from her computer screen to see him standing there.

"Come in, Mr. Tracy," she said coolly. "Close the door behind you."

"Yes, ma'am." Alan obeyed, and sat down in one of the chairs before the desk. He said nothing more, waiting for Ms. Belvedere to speak. His stomach began to tighten into knots as it had whenever he had crossed paths with the director of student affairs. He discreetly moistened his suddenly dry upper lip with his tongue, and sat up very, very straight.

Ms. Belvedere regarded him for a long moment, then asked, "How long did you know about Mr. Mackenzie's little problem?"

"Since Saturday, ma'am," he answered promptly. Feels like a month instead of four days.

"Hmm." She looked at him shrewdly. "Why didn't you mention this as part of your reason for wanting a dormitory transfer?"

Alan's shoulders slumped a little. "I promised to keep quiet about it," he replied resignedly. "Besides, it didn't seem fair to tell you once Trey himself got involved in the room change request. He was willing to accommodate Dom and me so it wouldn't be necessary to tell anyone."

"Are you sure you didn't know about this before? That perhaps you learned of it last year somehow?" she pressed.

Alan frowned, puzzled. "Yes, ma'am, I'm sure. I didn't hang around with seniors last year; I wasn't a jock or anything. It's just this year, since Lee Sugimoto became my roommate, that I learned about Trey's smoking."

"That's interesting," Ms. Belvedere said, raising an eyebrow. "Because I was told that you knew all along about Mr. Mackenzie's habit and were allowing Trey to smoke in your room."

Alan's eyes widened. "What!" he cried. He jumped to his feet, shaking his head furiously, swinging his arms and just stopping himself from childishly stomping a foot. "No way, Ms. Belvedere! No way! I didn't know anything about Trey's smoking until I came back to the dorm Saturday afternoon and found Sugi airing out the room, spraying freshener all over the place." He huffed out an exasperated breath. "I can't believe Sugi would..." He stopped and got control of himself. "No, I take that back. I can believe it. I know he'd lie about it. Just like he's spread that ugly rumor about me being gay and all. He'll do or say anything to keep out of trouble!"

Raising his gaze to hers, he pleaded, "Ma'am, please, please believe me! I knew nothing about Trey's habit until this past Saturday. And I would never let him smoke in our room; I hate the smell of cigarettes!"

"Sit down and calm yourself, Mr. Tracy," she said sharply. He sat down abruptly, putting his head in his hands. When he had calmed down, he sat back and looked at her with a bleak expression.

"Now that you are calm again, I must tell you that I believe you." His eyes widened in hope and he opened his mouth to speak, but she put up a hand.

"Let me finish." He nodded, and she continued. "I could not understand why, if you were the one who permitted Mr. Mackenzie to smoke in your room, you wanted to room with Mr. Bertoli, and not request that Mr. Bertoli and Mr. Sugimoto be placed together. It didn't add up. That, and your reaction to my announcement just now, convinced me that you were not the culprit in this case." Her face became sad, and she spoke softly. "I am very disappointed that such a respected, courteous student could change to this degree."

Alan said nothing. I don't want to get him into any more trouble than he is right now, not without cause. I still need to talk to Coach about that syringe.

"I understand that you are not pressing charges against Mr. Mackenzie," Ms. Belvedere said, bringing Alan's focus back to her.

"No, ma'am, I'm not," Alan replied soberly.

"May I ask why?"

Alan shifted uncomfortably. "Well, when I asked my Dad's advice, he said to balance Trey's life against the good of society. I know that if I pressed charges, that would give Trey a criminal record, one that would follow him all through life, whether he was convicted or not. I didn't think it was fair to do that to him. It's not like he goes around beating on people all the time. I mean, he was really angry, and wasn't thinking. I kinda put myself in his shoes, and I could see myself maybe doing the same thing." His voice got softer. "Besides, I know what it's like to have a second chance." He met her gaze with a steady one of his own. "I wanted to give him one."

She sat there silent for a long moment, then a small smile appeared on her face and she shook her head softly. "You continue to amaze me, Mr. Tracy. I don't know what happened to you over the summer, but it has been good for you."

"It actually started over spring break," Alan said, smiling back.

"I see." Ms. Belvedere turned back to her computer. She tapped three or four keys, and then turned back to him. "I am printing out the approval for your room change. With Mr. Mackenzie's departure, there is no reason why you shouldn't be able to move in with Mr. Bertoli."

Alan sat up, surprised and relieved. "Thank you, Ms. Belvedere."

"I will email a notification to Mr. Bertoli and to Mr. Sugimoto, as well as putting hard copies in their campus mailboxes. You can begin transferring your things as soon as I get a confirmation from Mr. Bertoli."

"Yes, ma'am." Only one more night with Sugi... oh man, does that feel good!

She got up and went out to the anteroom, leaving the door open. Alan heard her say, "I will be right with you," to someone, then she came back, a small sheaf of papers in her hand. She tamped them on the desk, then sorted them by twos and threes, sticking some of the smaller groups into an automatic stapler. She handed him one of those.

"Here is the order for your room change, as well as a copy of the incident report. I will be sending one of these to your father via airmail, as well as email. There is also an excuse from me to Coach Evans." She glanced up at him. "I understand you missed practice today because of the incident."

"Yes, ma'am. I did."

"Again, once I have confirmation from Mr. Bertoli, I will email you and you can begin to transfer your things." She sat back down in her chair. "You can go now, Mr. Tracy."

"Thanks again, Ms. Belvedere," Alan said, rising.

"You're welcome, Alan. I hope that this brings your current problems to a close."

He smiled at her. "I hope so, too, ma'am."

Folding the papers up so he could shove them in his back pocket, Alan stepped out of her office with a jaunty step, only to find himself facing Trey Mackenzie. He was sitting next to an older, balding man, with a jowly face and a paunch, someone who looked stern and scowling, his arms folded over his chest.

Alan walked by them, looking straight ahead, but stopped in his tracks when Trey called out, "Hey, Tracy."

Turning slowly, he replied with a terse, "Yeah, Mackenzie?"

Trey's father stared at Alan, as Trey rose to his feet. "I'm sorry for what happened. I talked with Ms. Belvedere; she wouldn't tell me who ratted on me, but she did tell me that it wasn't you."

"Okay."

Alan turned to go, but stopped when Trey added in a low, emotional voice, "And... thanks. For not pressing charges. I... appreciate it."

He bit his lower lip lightly, then sighed and glanced over his shoulder. "Everyone deserves a second chance," he said, sounding very much like his father. "Make good use of it." With that, he strode out of the room.