Juvenalas Penitatas
Lesson 12 – Betrayal

Vulpin the Sly kicked down the door and flung his paw forward. “Flame of the Sorcerlock!” the fox roared as a colossal bolt of green fire erupted from his palm. The un-living skeleton of a vole exploded in a shower of burning bone fragments.
Pippy Squeak slid between the Sorcerlock's legs, the mouse Keteer summoned all her swiftness to dart across the chamber, straight towards the dark mystic of the Necrodead. “Tally-ho!” she cried, reaching a second walking skeleton and hacking it apart with a flurry of precise strikes from her rapier. That left only one foe for the heroes of the Heroic Guild; a bloated, festering rat draped in robes of rotting skin and armed with a staff made from a bone larger than he was.
“Make way for me!” bellowed the third warrior as he passed through to the chamber. He levelled his blade at the rat and roared aloud, “I am Harre Longears! Quest-knight of the Knights of the Quest! Face me, villainous villain!”
“He doesn't seem to be listeni-” Pippy began, but was silenced by a blow to the jaw from the charging rat that sent the mouse flying.
“Pippy!” Harre called out in alarm. He readied his longsword in a two-handed grip and steeled himself for the charge.
“I'll get Pippy, don't worry!” Lily Padhopper called out from the back of the group. She bounded over to the prone mouse, the words of a prayer to Faro'gg forming on her lips. Her hands glowed with healing light as she reached her prone companion, devout energies wrapping her in a warm, golden glow.
“That guy hits like a meteor!” the mouse Keteer moaned as her flesh and bones reknit themselves. “My defence was near-perfect and he still almost took me out in one go!”
The dark mystic aimed his staff and spat out a curse in the Black Tongue of Evil. Harre darted aside, but Vulpin took the blow square on the chest. A smaller creature might have died instantly, but foxes were large and powerful – even ones who spent their lives studying arcane arts rarely went down easily. “My turn!” Vulpin barked, and threw a swirling cloud of green energy towards Harre. The mystic power coalesced around the Quest-knight's longsword. “Go get 'em, Harre!”
Harre charged forward, roaring with fury as he flung himself into the air and brought his blade down in a two-handed strike. The dark mage raised his bone-staff to block, but when the weapons clashed the fire-wreathed steel found a chink in the bone; a tiny crack that instantly grew to snap the bone in twain. Harre's sword kept going, hacking through the skull and chest of the evil mage. A dark howling filled the chamber as energies of necrodeath surged around, lost souls wailing as they sought a way to escape back to the afterlife.
The other heroes whooped and cheered. “A critical hit! Twenty damage in one go! That was awesome!”

The day after Rilka's “gift” expired, Talek finally got to play Heroes of the Heroic Guild. Kost and Bubbles were invited round to join them, and the four rejuves spent a day lost in high fantasy adventure together. It had been a good day and part of a run of good days, spoiled only slightly by the return of lines after his friends left.
Talek's cuddly snake was sat coiled up on the corner of his desk, a shiny new pencil case nestled in his winding body. That was the original gift Rilka had picked for him before gaining approval for the more carnal alternative. It had included a soft rubber sleeve designed to make holding the pencil more comfortable; a fact he welcomed as the lead scratched line after identical line.
Rilka stood close by, her nose to the wall. She was nude – they both were. Prior to her corner time, Liki had apologetically informed the girl she had an 'unearned' spanking due, and as was custom that meant both rejuves had to bare all. It was a short spanking, done by parent's claw rather than with a paddle, hairbrush or belt; a small mercy. As a further kindness, Rilka was allowed to hold her pillow-like calico cat as a further source of ease and comfort. Talek's eyes briefly wandered over the cream scales of her back, then down to the rosier scale of her buttocks. He savoured the sight as long as he dared before returning to his lines. He didn't like seeing Rilka hurting, but he did like seeing her bare below the waist.
“I wish we could have our radio on,” the boy sighed as he reached the edge of the paper again.
No answer came. That was not surprising; talking in corner time was a no-no. Talek studied his work and felt his stomach churn at how his writing visibly deteriorated over the last three sentences. He was getting tired, and that made him sloppy.
Huffing in frustration, the boy dared to give himself a break. He hadn't explicitly been ordered to stay at the desk, so he padded across the open plan room to the subtly-recessed bathing area, to the sink specifically, and drank a few handfuls of cold water from the tap. The cold liquid felt good on his fingers and wrist. The boy stalled as long as he dared before resuming his punishment, writing much more slowly and deliberately so the lines would be neat and match. “Maybe I can salvage this,” he mused as he worked.
It was a relief when Liki came to end the punishment session for the two Pennys. Rilka got a short hug before being let loose upon her puzzle books again, leaving Talek sat anxiously at the desk. His mother took the sheets of lines and studied them carefully. “You got a little messy here,” she said, pointing out the lines Talek was afraid of.
“I'm sorry,” he whimpered. “I tried to fix it!”
“I can see that. You clearly put a lot of effort into fixing the mistake.” She took a pen and crossed out some of the lines. “I'm afraid we can't accept those, but the rest will count towards your total. You'll have to redo those four, and I'm giving you another four on top.”
“That-” the boy caught himself, turning his snout down in submission. “That's fair I guess.”
Liki flashed the boy a smile. “Your father wanted a word with you downstairs. You can put your clothes back on first, unless you'd rather be in bare scale?”
The boy's eye was drawn to Rilka, whose grin made her preference clear. “I'd like to get dressed, please.”

As he slipped his underwear back on, fumbling briefly to fasten them above the tail, Talek couldn't help but reflect on how many times he'd been made bare since becoming a penitatas. It had only been a few months ago he'd first touched down on the shores of Northrock, but that old life already felt like, well, a lifetime ago. It was strange how swiftly things had become 'normal' for him that would once have been unthinkable. He cast a glance towards the exposed toilet next to the room's transparent wall and found himself smirking, recalling how terrible it had seemed to have to relieve himself with other people watching. He still wasn't keen on the idea, but it wasn't so bad now if it was Rilka, or one of his parents present. Even then, they rarely looked square at him.
He stepped out into the hall and cast a quick glance back to his mother. “Go on, downstairs with you!” she said, waving him away with her oceanic blue-screen scaled claw. Changing floors without express permission was something else that had been hammered into him. Paddled in, to be more precise.
He strode down to the open plan ground floor, pausing at the base of the stairs to take in the main room of the house. Curved couches offered comfortable seating, with a deactivated holo against one wall not far from the fire. It was currently smouldering, with barely an amber glow amidst the blackened wood and grey ash. The boy wondered how many times he'd sat in the thick white rug in front of that warm flame, finding primal comfort in its heat and crackling song – too many to count, certainly.
Shon emerged from the dining area. He looked towards Talek and beckoned with a finger before taking his usual spot on the couch. Talek obediently went to join him, pausing briefly to determine where exactly he should sit. Next to his father was the preferred spot, as indicated by a paternal pat on the vacant cushion. Once Talek was settled, Shon said to him, “I know you're anxious about meeting Jalia again, but putting it off won't make things any easier. I'd prefer you face her sooner than later.”
“I'm not ready,” Talek mumbled in response.
A sigh escaped his father's snout. “You are protective of her, or at least some memory of her you cherish. Is that why you don't want to face her again? Because you'd risk destroying the image of her in your head?”
“I...” Talek grimaced at the idea Shon's words implanted in his mind. “I just... I don't know...” he scrunched his eyes shut and shook away the train of thought.
“Tell me about her. Don't overthink it, just say the first thing that comes to you head.”
“I...” the boy found himself straining against a mental block that had formed.
Shon gave the boy a gentle pat on the back. “Do you know what I think? I think you've got two versions of your mother in your head; the version you want her to be, and the version you're scared she'll turn out to be. Does that sound right?”
“It... it does,” Talek confirmed.
“Well, just you remember that she's a penitatas for a reason, alright? I'm not saying you shouldn't care about her, but try to see her for who she really is. Don't start lying to yourself to make her into someone she's not.”

It turned out that Jalia's house was much closer than he'd thought. Just a few minutes up the beach, the house was one quarter of a toroid building that enclosed a private garden. They entered said garden through one of four communal passages that had remote-locked doors at either end. Shon pointed him towards Jalia's bedroom. The shape was different, but the overall design philosophy was strikingly familiar; smaller than his own bedroom, but matched the open plan design. The bathroom was right at the bottom of a flight stairs that seemed the only access from inside the house, and the toilet itself was placed right against the external wall, which was fully transparent. Every house was like this; a brief glance around let him look into every Penny's bedroom, but all the other windows that looked inwards were reflective, revealing nothing of what lay beyond to give everyone who wasn't a hard-timer some privacy. “Why are we out here?” he asked his father.
Shon simply pointed to Jalia's room again. The girl descended the stairs with her mother, and though their exchange was inaudible, Talek had a good idea what was being said. She was about to get a spanking, and she clearly wasn't happy about it. Kneeling down, Shon whispered into Talek's ear, “you're angry with her, aren't you?”
“I... I guess I am,” Talek replied through clenched teeth as he watched his rejuvenated birth-mother undress.
“Do you think seeing her spanked will help with that anger?”
“Maybe?” He didn't pull his eyes away as Jalia went over her mother's lap. Their position gave the audience outside a clear view of her backside, tail held up and out of the way. The implement of choice was the back of a wooden hairbrush – a long-time favourite of Penny's mothers across the galaxy.
Shon squeezed Talek's shoulder as the brush came down for the first time. Even through the glass the girl's muffled howl could be heard. “We'll watch for as long as you need to. Just tell me when you're ready to talk to her.”
The boy briefly glanced at his father. “Aren't we going in once the spanking is over?”
“The spanking ends when you say it does,” he replied.
Knowing he was in control gave Talek a perverse sense of pleasure. He was struggling to make sense of his own feelings, but the one that now surged ahead of all the others anger, hot and vengeful. Yet fury was ever a mercurial emotion, and it quickly redirected itself not to the howling little girl, but the woman spanking her. Back and forth the boy's emotions swayed, unfortunately for Jalia; she'd earned over a dozen good, hard smacks on her backside before he felt sure what he wanted. “I'd like to go in now,” he said.
Shon's knock on the door ended the punishment. They stepped through the glass door into the bedroom, where Talek was not surprised to see the interior wall was reflective. He paid no attention to the parents as they spoke, keeping all his focus on Jalia as she lay on the bed and howled into her pillow. He was only broken out of his stare when Shon tapped him on the head. “We'll be right upstairs if you need us. If things get too much for you don't be afraid to come to me, even if it's just for a few minutes to clear your head. Okay?”
“Okay,” he answered, more because it's what was expected of him than anything. He was still trying to figure out what to say to the girl before him, the sobbing little lady that had in another life birthed him, raised him, and then abandoned him.
It took so long for him to come to a decision that Jalia cried herself calm. The honey-scaled girl eased herself up off the mattress and shuffled off the bed tentatively, wincing at every twang and sting from her backside. “It's good to see you,” she said, sounding tired despite the earliness of the day.
He opened his mouth, but only a muted croak came out. Embarrassed by this, and fighting hard to keep his emotions in control, Talek sought anything else to focus on. His eyes slid along the narrow single-bed, a harsh looking wooden stool, a spartan writing desk; the contents of the room were all so similar to what he had at home, but packed into a smaller space. Even with two children's worth of things, the 'terrarium' never felt crowded.
“I owe you an apology,” Jalia continued, seeing her son was in no rush to speak. “I'm sorry for letting you down.”
A lump formed in Talek's throat, which he forced back down with considerable effort. “H-how come I've never seen you at school?” he asked.
“That's what you want to know?”
“Just tell me!” he snapped. “Have you been avoiding me or something?”
Jalia appeared hurt by the accusation. “What? No! I had no idea you were a Penny until we met that day!”
“Then where have you been?”
“Here, obviously!” The girl flinched upon realising how short her tone was. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to snap like that. I guess I'm in a bad mood because of my 'mother' dropping a spanking on me for no reason.”
Talek had to look away. “So why aren't you in school?” he asked again.
Jalia shook her head, a slow, sad little motion marked with a tremble in her lip and a crinkle in her eyes that suggested she too was struggling. “I guess you'd call it yet another punishment, one I earned just a few months into my sentence.”
“But you've been a Penny for years. What did you do?” Talek asked, concern filtering into his tone as his mother began to pace restlessly back and forth.
She sniffled before continuing, “when I was made a Penny my only concern was you. All I wanted was to see you. I'd have settled just for speaking with you, even writing you a letter – anything to reach out to you! But they refused. I was to have no contact with you whatsoever until... I don't know when. Maybe when I reached Soft Time? Maybe not even until parole. I couldn't wait that long! I... I learned about the radio station run by the school. I tried to use it to get a message out of Northrock. All I wanted was for someone to pass on to you that I loved you!”
“I don't believe you,” Talek responded, though he struggled to summon enough strength to make his words truly vitriolic. Even so, they clearly hurt his mother. Yet her pain quickly turned to resignation, her snout dropping towards the floor.
“That's... fair. I let you down, son. I didn't raise you right.” The words caught Talek completely flat-footed. Jalia continued, “I don't know if they told you about my crimes, but I had a lot of forged documents produced along the way. One of my earliest was... a parenting license.”
“You mean you weren't supposed to be my mom?”
The girl's expression hardened. “I mean that if it were up to the government, you'd never have been born.”
“What? What is that even supposed to mean?” he asked, struggling more and more to keep himself on an even emotional keel. It was hard enough facing his mother without having curve-balls thrown at him.
Jalia, meanwhile, settled back onto her bed, lying on her stomach. She patted the bed beside her and wriggled into a position where she could face her son with minimal fabric making contact against her stinging rear. Talek meekly accepted the offer, creeping over and sitting on the edge of the bed. It was a little easier when he didn't have to look at her, though he didn't object when she shuffled closer to cuddle him from behind.
“Life isn't fair, Talek,” she whispered. “Not fair for people like us at least. Life's a game, and the table is rigged; only people who cheat can ever hope to get ahead. I learned that the hard way. Think back to when you were in school: they told you we are an enlightened people, a society where no Karrian's needs go unfulfilled and they are free to pursue their dreams. If that were true, why do Karrians still stack shelves in the store, or serve drinks at the cafe? Why do so many struggle to get by in a world where they're supposed to have everything? Your father and I had to give up so much just to bring you into the world!”
“But didn't you both get the social stipend?” Talek asked hesitantly.
Julia let out a short, bitter laugh. “That 'social stipend' bought us an apartment barely larger than this room! We ate resequenced proteins while our 'betters' dined on Alquarian steak! Your poor father worked so hard every hour he could, and we still couldn't afford half of what we deserved. What you deserved. You were being cheated out of your birthright from the moment you took your first breath.”
The boy had no reply to that. He'd certainly wanted a great deal in life, and received little of it. Clothes, games, holidays, nights out; there had always been plenty he'd wanted, and almost all he'd never received.
Jalia pulled herself upright, resting her snout on her son's shoulder, her voice growing more confident as Talek became ever more uncertain. “What about your dreams, Talek? Didn't your teachers tell you that you could be whatever you wanted? Do whatever you wanted?”
“I guess...”
“So that's what you did, right? And now look where you are! You were lied to! You can do whatever you want, so long as all you want to do is what they tell you!” She sighed, seemingly worn out by her rising passions. “We've been prisoners all our lives, sweetheart. The only difference between here and out there is Northrock doesn't bother pretending. We exist for their amusement.”
Talek glanced up the stairs towards the door. “You mean my teachers? Or... my Penny Parents?”
“Both! They're all the same – all agents of the machine! Only a few get to live the dream, and people like us; me, you, your real father... we're not in the club. But I wanted to change that. I almost did. I was so close, Talek! So close to getting us all the lives we deserved! But they realised what I was doing, and they made me a Penny as punishment for ever daring to believe a lowly peasant could sit amongst the aristocracy!”
The rhetoric left Talek reeling. His eyes darted to the stairs as he stammered out an excuse, “I-I need a drink! I'll-”
“Wait, please don't go yet,” Jalia cut in, her voice softening to much it was as if a different child had spoken. “I didn't mean to burden you with so much. I'm sorry, it's just... ever since I became a Penitatas it's been harder to control my emotions. I get caught up in things. Please, stay here with me! We can talk, catch up. Do you live in the town proper?”
“I... live further down the beach. In one of the three-storey houses.”
Jalia seemed surprised by that. “Oh. I didn't think you'd be put there! In my experience, naughtier kids get put further out.”
“Well I have a 'sister' named Rilka. She... had a harsh sentence up until recently.”
“Still, it seems strange to me. Surely they could have found a less strict household for you to move into?” Talek could only shrug at the question, to which Jalia responded with a sorrowful sigh. “I wish I could help you, love. I really, really do. I have friends outside of Northrock who could help us if only I were allowed to contact them. Friends on the correction's council who would surely see that your sentence is completely unfair.”
“You know people who work in law enforcement?” Talek asked in surprise.
Jalia giggled. “I know people from all over! That's how I was going to get a message to you – use a communications device to reach my friends and have them pass it on! I'm certain if they knew about your sentence they'd overturn it in a snap!” she snapped her fingers for emphasis, but moments later the joy faded from her features. “Oh... but there's no way I could ever get what I need. I... I shouldn't have gotten your hopes up like that.”
“Why? What do you need?” Talek asked, unable to keep the hunger from his voice.
“A subspace communicator, or failing that any high-band transmitter. But it's not something you could just ask for. I'd get one myself, but the only place I know to find one is in the school and, like I said, I'm kept far away from there.”
“Maybe... maybe I could get it for you?”
A look of motherly pride formed on the rejuve's face. “Oh my wonderful boy! I love you more than words can say!” she threw her arms around Talek, who gasped as a surge of wild emotion hit him in the heart like a sledgehammer. Jalia held the hug for a few seconds before easing back and looking him in the eys. “Now, you'll have to be careful, Talek. The hard part will be getting access to the room in the first place, and to do that – well, here's what I suggest...”

The parents upstairs were talking quietly when Talek slunk through the door. They fell silent, but Shon flashed a warm smile to the boy. “Everything okay, son?” he asked.
“Yeah. I think... I think I'm ready to go home,” Talek answered, wilting as though he were expecting a punishment.
“Okay. Thank you for having us both; I'm sure we'll visit again soon,” Shon said to their hostess as the pair gathered their things. The pair walked hand in hand, with Shon waiting until they were safely clear of the house before speaking softly, “I thought I heard some raised voices between you two. Is everything okay?”
“W-we behaved!” Talek squeaked defensively, to which Shon gave a faint grin.
“I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm worried, that's all. It must have been an emotional reunion, and perhaps a difficult one? Do you have anything you'd like to talk through?”
“Not really,” the boy answered, turning his snout away. Inside he was a writhing mess, though the brisk wintery breeze and the steady motion of the walk seemed to help create a semblance of order. “Actually, there is something that I keep thinking about. I'm supposed to be a soft-timer but it doesn't feel like I am, if that makes sense?” His words tumbled out hastily, almost as if he was rushing to the end of the train of thought.
Shon nodded slowly. “I understand why you might feel that way. You will be treated like a soft-timer, but before that the court wants to give you a 'taster' of what life is like for a penitatas; that's why you got the New Years punishment, and why there's occasionally other little surprises thrown your way. You just have to trust me when I say things will get easier after your first year is done, providing you can remember right from wrong of course.”
The last few words sent a shudder down Talek's spine, but inside he could hear his mother's voice repeating her instructions on an endless loop. He had to do this; it was the only way out. “But... shouldn't I get to have soft-timer stuff as well? Don't Pennys like me get to do extra-curricular stuff?”
“Those activities aren't just for soft-timers. It's more about how long you've been a penitatas, and whether or not you've shown a positive trend in your behaviour. The EC groups have often been penitatas for a decade or more, and they're the best and brightest of the lot. You shouldn't think of these activities as some fun perk or reward, but as a job. For example, while you're enjoying your week off the Beachcomber club are walking up and down the shore making sure nothing nasty has washed up on our shoreline. Radio Northrock have to get up extra early to do their shows, and it seriously cuts into their free time. You only see the highlight reel – you don't see all the hard work and sacrifice behind the scenes.”
“I'd still like to be a part of it,” Talek persisted, though his voice shook as he spoke. “I wouldn't mind having to get up early to do something like Radio Northrock. I think it'd be cool! And... and I need to prove that I've learned my lesson first time round or I'll be hard time for years! Something... something like Radio Northrock could be what saves me from that!”
Shon slowly came to a halt, casting a curious look down towards the boy. “Is that really what this is about? You wanting a chance to prove yourself?”
Talek couldn't meet his father's gaze as he mumbled out an affirmative. Shon kept his eyes fixed on the lad for much, much longer than Talek was comfortable with. “Alright, if you want a chance to prove yourself I guess we can arrange it. I can try and make some calls and sort something out. Might even be able to do it before school starts.”
“Thank you,” Talek mumbled at his feet. “Umm... if I do get accepted... I'd like to be able to tell my mom in person. Jalia, I mean.”
“You want to see her again already?”
His father's tone was innocent enough, but the question was a blade punched squarely into Talek's chest. The boy struggled to breathe for a time as he wrestled back some self control. “I w-want her to be proud of me! Is that so wrong?” he snapped in response.
Shon raised his free paw, “Okay, no need to bite my claw off! I am a little worried about that tone of yours, Talek. It makes me think you're bottling up more than you claim. I want to be patient with you, but that leniency will only go so far. Do you understand what I'm saying?”
The nine-year-old lizard gave a hasty nod. “Y-yes! I'm s-sorry I snapped at you!”
“Apology accepted. Now, take a deep breath. Are you sure there's nothing we need to talk about?”
“I... I think... not yet.”
“Later, then.”

Shon arranged everything the next day, and the morning after saw Talek making an early return to school. N.C.E. was eerily quiet with most of the children and staff absent, with the boy's footsteps echoing in an unfamiliar fashion as he walked along the tiled floors. The radio room was at the top of the building directly under the archaic looking broadcast tower, a floor that was normally off-limits altogether to pupils. The room had additional locks for good measure, above and beyond what every classroom had.
Talek's breath caught in his lungs at the sight of the teacher waiting for them. Mister Titus, the bone-white Roferian. The furred dragon smirked as he caught sight of the timid juvenalas, beckoning him forward with an almost-mocking curl of the finger. “Come along, young man. I don't bite, despite what your sister might told you. You seem so anxious, why is that?”
“I... I don't... want to mess up!” he saw the quizzical look in the teacher's face and recalled another of Jalia's warnings. “I met my mom recently, my birth-mother. I want to do this right so I can tell her I've done something special. Something she might be proud of.”
Mister Titus briefly glanced at Shon before shrugging off the answer. “Come along then.”
Beyond the door was a curious world of white-boards and cork-boards littered with pinned on pieces of paper or hastily scrawled notes. Rotas were drawn up with complex colour-codes and cliquish short-hands, names of pre-recorded materials were displayed alongside their run times, passive-aggressive arguments over content for the weeks ahead were taking place via chains of notes that ran twenty sticky-notes deep in places. The only actual technology were two small, modern tabletop consoles, one of which was being manned by a Karrian boy whose scale-colours made him look like something poisonous.
“Master Talek, meet Master Nigal. Nigal, Talek.”
“Pleased to meet you!” The older boy said smartly, offering his claw to shake. “So you're the JP? How exciting! Well, not for you I guess, but it is for us!”
“Can you three be trusted not to destroy the school if left unsupervised?” Mister Titus asked. The question made Talek flinch, but Nigal seemed to take it in good-humour.
“Yessir! We'll be good as gold, if not better!” The teacher accepted the answer with a nod, and both adults departed the room.
“What did he mean 'you three'?” Talek asked.
Nigal jerked a thumb to the far door. “Patrick's in the studio room. See the lights above the door? The red one means we're live, and the yellow one there is a 'keep the door closed' light. Once it goes off we'll nip inside and I will walk you through how we do things.”
The boys didn't have to wait long. Patrick gave the visitor a quick wave through the dividing window as Talek was shown to the control station. Nigal wasted no time in walking him through everything, explaining in energetic whispers how radio worked compared to more modern communication systems, limits on its range and how they worked around that. Talek did his best to listen and look interested, while fighting to hide any sign of the mounting apprehension inside. Whenever it seemed natural to do so he glanced about the little room for the prize his mother wanted so dearly, but wherever the communicator was it wasn't in the open. Occasionally, Nigal paused his tutorial to perform some task, or simply to listen as Patrick spoke to the audience. The longer the whole charade went on, the more anxious Talek became. He felt there was no choice but to try and steer things more directly. “I heard from a friend that you do broadcast to places other than Northrock, is that true?”
Nigal nodded eagerly. “Yeah! We actually send everything we do to a couple of the smaller Penny Communities, plus anyone who wants to can apply to be added to our channels. Folks in Northrock itself only ever hear the radio, but – here, I'll show you.”
Talek was led to a small computer tucked into the corner of the room. The boy knew enough about software to tell that it was receiving, compressing and transmitting data-packets in real time. “A sub-space radio?”
Nigal chuckled. “A thousand percent better audio quality than we'll ever hear! I'm told the satellite offices receive this data, convert it into basic electronic binary and then broadcast it through their own radio towers.”
“So when you do the on-site stuff, like sports day, how do you do that?”
“With this,” Nigal tapped the computer case, “we use a modified field-scanner to capture everything, transmit the data uncompressed via subspace transmitters, then use software here to rip out and reformat the audio into something we can broadcast.”
Talek's eyes wandered to the cabinets next to the computer. Sure enough, tags like “field kit” jumped at him immediately. The boy's heart sank as he saw every single drawer had a lock on it,  but then his focus fixated on the impossible – one of the drawers was jutting ever-so-slightly forwards!
“Hello? Halkat to Talek!”
The boy shook himself. “Huh? Sorry! I sort of spaced...”
“I'll say! Do you need a break or something? I realise I've been talking your ear-slits raw for twenty minutes straight!”
“Yeah, a break would be good. Do you mind if I just watch you guys do your thing for a bit?”
Nigal accepted the idea with a quick nod. “There's some bottles of water in the fridge over there,” he added.
Talek took the invitation eagerly; his throat had been dry since arriving at the school. Still, he took his time as much as possible, moving slowly and trying to appear curious about all the minutiae of the broadcasting setup. Savouring the cold water, he turned slowly to see Nigal at his station, head bopping along to whatever was playing into the earpiece held against his head. It was now or never.
Sidling to the unlocked drawer, Talek eased it open just enough to peer inside. The communicator was sat right there, nestled comfortably in a shaped cradle of black cushioning. He eased down, eyes darting frantically from the prize to Nigal and back, free claw wriggling into the gap and worming under the communicator. Every second was agonising, the fear of being caught building inside his skull until he felt certain his head would burst, but his clawed fingers closed around the cool bronze-and-silver metal of the device. He yanked it out and shoved it hastily into his pocket before sliding his right foot back to ease the drawer closed. He had it!
The rest of the day was spent in mortal terror of being discovered; the sheer effort required to appear calm and collected was utterly exhausting, which ultimately ended up helping him out in the long run. Seeing his son yawn as they made their goodbyes, Shon offered up the prospect of a little nap when they got home, buying Talek a chance to conceal his stolen item. He stuffed it inside the pillow and prayed with all his heart and soul nobody found it.
He got a close call at the end of the day. Shon came to tuck his two young charges into bed, arranging their sheets and bed-cushions to keep them supported and comfortable. Rilka was snuggled on her side, a thin pillow tucked between her knees and her cuddly cat squeezed against her chest. Shon shuffled her pillows for her before turning his focus on Talek. “All comfy?” he asked.
“Mhmm.”
“Good. There's something I wanted to ask you though,” the parent said as he settled on the lip of the circular bed. “Ever since you met Jalia I've had this nagging feeling you're keeping something from us. Is there something you want to talk about?”
“No,” Talek answered meekly.
“You're sure? Nothing at all.”
Talek rocked his snout back and forth. The stolen communicator inside his pillow felt red hot on the back of his skull.
“Okay... if you're sure,” Shon sighed before giving the boy a soft pat on the forehead. “Goodnight, Talek. Goodnight, Rilka.”
The boy's hammering heart made it difficult for him to get any proper rest that night.

The second hurdle was in delivering the device. This too went better than expected; under the guise of wanting to try and form a relationship with Jalia, he won permission to visit her once more. The device in his pocket burned against his thigh, with his young mind imagining an impromptu search at any moment, but no such invasion came. He walked into Jalia's room, let the door close behind him, and dared to smile as he fished the device from his pocket.
Jalia snatched it up immediately. “Oh, you brilliant lad!” she cooed, stroking the communicator lovingly. “I'll get the message out as soon as I'm able!”
“When will you do it?” Talek asked.
Jalia glanced his way. For a moment, just a moment, she seemed irritated by the question. It passed immediately, replaced by a kindly smile. “Soon. Not now though, too risky. I need the cover of nightfall. Don't worry your sweet little head, my dear – you'll be paroled before you know it, you'll see!”
“And... and what about you?”
The girl's smile stiffened. “Oh. Well. I'll manage.”
“You're going to try and escape, aren't you?” he asked, a leaden lump forming in his gut.
Jalia moved to embrace him, “Don't fret one bit about me! I'll be fine.”
“But you're-”
“Oh hush up! Why can't you just trust me on this, boy? Can't you see that I'm trying to do what's best for you right now? Stop being so foolish!”
“S-sorry!” Talek whimpered, biting his lip in shame.
“You've done your bit, now leave the rest to me. Wait and see, Talek, everything's going to turn out the way it's supposed to. We'll both be out of here before you know it!”

That night was a sleepless one for Talek. He lay in bed as long as he dared, long enough that he felt certain Rilka was asleep and no parent was peering in through their windowed wall before slipping out of bed and tip-toeing over to the window. Despite all his mother's assurances, a voice inside was telling him to watch for her, so watch he did. Clutching the lip for support he peered out into the darkness, cursing the light-pollution from the street lamp as he probed the night for any signs of activity. If she was going to signal him, what form would her message take? He imagined a flashing torch on the beach, or perhaps-
A strangled gasp slipped from Talek's throat as he saw a shimmer in the distance. It was barely a speck of light, but it was a light! A hovercar coming in over the ocean!
Risk be damned, he went after it, crossing the room as hastily as he could without making too much noise. The door to the room was unlocked and slid open without alarm, leaving him free and clear to take the stairs down. No voices challenged him, but he knew the final obstacle couldn't be challenged without raising alarm. Steeling himself against the rising terror, he opened the front door and ran into the night.
He made for the beach, turning north and sprinting across the dark, uneven sands in search of the rescue vehicle. He caught sight of it in the distance by the angled glow flooding out of its opened door, and in that illumination he saw the clear silhouette of a child. “Mom!” he cried at the top of his lungs. “Mom! I'm here! I'm coming!”
He ran on, limbs pumping, heart pounding. He ran towards the light as Jalia paused, haloed in the light, her head turned towards him. He saw the shine of her eyes for just a moment before the girl turned away, and Talek screamed for her again as the door closed behind her. “Mom! Mom! Moooom!” he wailed as the hovercar rose up, turned to face the water and raced away. The boy was briefly able to track its movement by the way it blotted out the stars, then it was gone.
His legs gave out, plunging him face-first into the sand. “Mom!” he wailed again, bawling openly as his heart shattered. He was so lost in grief and trauma that he failed to acknowledge Shon's presence until he was gently lifted off the ground and carried home.
“It's alright, Talek. Everything will be alright,” Shon whispered to the broken boy.

The pair spent the night on the sofa, Shon never once letting go of his juvenalas child. The boy awoke early, feeling empty and sick to his stomach. Shon helped him through his basic needs, while Liki kept Rilka out of sight. It didn't take much imagination to guess there was a reckoning coming.
When it began, it started with a phone call. Shon planted Talek on the sofa and asked him to wait, but the boy peered towards the vid-phone regardless. The call came from Jalia's mother. “I thought you would want to know that I got a call from the police about Jalia. She's in custody along with her getaway driver, who is currently trying to make a plea deal.”
“Any indication what they'll offer him?” Shon asked.
The Karrian on the screen smiled. “I think the choice they offered was 'sixty years as a little boy', or 'sixty years as a little girl'. Double that if they think he's holding back. Keep your holo on, because this might be one of the biggest scandals in a century when it's all played out!”
“That bad?”
“All I know is that Jalia was involved in something far worse than anything she was actually charged with! I've not been able to speak with her yet, but based on our recordings from last night... 'You owe me', she said on the call. 'I helped clean up your mess with Kira, now you're going to clean up my mess or I'll tell the world!'.”
“And who is this 'Kira'?”
The mother's face turned sour. “I can't be sure, but I did some investigating of my own last night. A girl named Kira went missing a few years ago. She was seventeen at the time, and her body was never found. I think Jalia might have helped cover up a murder! I'll keep you up to date on everything, assuming the news doesn't beat me to it!”
“Thank you. I need to check on Talek now. Last night was... difficult for him. The next few weeks are going to be even worse.”
“Take care, both of you.” the screen went blank.
Shon returned to the couch to find his son in tears. “I-I-I'm g-gonna get sp-sp-anked aren't-t I?” he blubbered, barely able to form his words.
“Eventually, yes,” Shon confirmed. “Right now there's far more important things than tanning your hide. I've known about your little plot since the very beginning; we heard every word between you and Jalia in her bedroom. We listened to her try and turn you against us, and her telling you what to say to gain access to the communicator. Your actions, as wrong as they were, may have helped us ensnare another criminal and reveal yet-more past crimes by your mother, but I can't ignore the fact that you have completely betrayed our trust. I'm not shouting at you right now because shouting won't achieve anything. We both know what you did, but I need to understand why you did it. Can you do that for me, Talek? Can you explain why you helped her?”
“No...” the boy whined, slumping against the soft seat and letting his snout drop. Salty tears rolled over his cheeks and across his lips before dripping into the pale-blue pyjama top he wore.
Shon didn't seem put off by the lack of answer. He let Talek cry a while, gently prompting again when the boy seemed to have naturally settled. The child wiped his snotty snout with the back of his claw and mumbled, “I really thought she wanted to help me...”
“Remember when I asked about how you felt towards her? The image of her you had in your mind, the mother you wanted her to be? Can you talk about that yet?”
Talek gave a slow nod. “I think so. I... I knew she was bad. I hated so much of what she made me do. But... I kept imagining she'd change. I wanted her to change! I wanted... she...” fresh tears forced themselves from his reddened eyes. “I wanted a real mom! A mom who loved me and cared for me! Everyone else gets that, why not me?”
Again, Shon let the boy cry the pain out. “Talek, I need you to listen to me now, because this is important; nothing she did was your fault. She was a terrible woman and a bad mother, but that's not because of you! Don't tear yourself up thinking she'd have been different if you were different; there's no version of Jalia that would ever have been the mother you wanted or deserved.”
Several huffing blubs followed before Talek bawled, “I want my mo-om!”
Shon glanced up towards the stairs. “I can ask Liki to join us if you'd like her to?” He nodded wordlessly, and Shon left him to cry. He returned soon after with his wife, who planted herself on the sofa and lifted Talek into her lap. She shushed and cuddled him, gently rocking the rejuve until the tears ceased.
She stroked his hair gently. “Okay, love. We're both here for you.”
“W-what's gon-na happen t-t-to me?” he whimpered into her shoulder.
The parents exchanged pained glances. Shon answered, “We're going to have to let the courts decide this one. I'm not going to sugar-coat this; there is a very real chance it will go badly for you. It could mean a judicial spanking, or it could mean your sentence is extended or harshened. We have no way of knowing.”
“All we can promise is we'll be there for you, no matter what happens,” Liki added.

On Halkat, justice was swift. Within a week of his transgression, Talek found himself in an all too-familiar courtroom, now centre stage as Rilka was not so long ago. Like her, he was stripped bare and restrained in the centre of the room, his wrists cuffed to a restraining bar above and behind his head to leave him standing exposed and vulnerable while his family sat off to the side. The residing judge was a stern-faced, middle-aged female with a similar, but darker blue-green hew to Liki's. She stared at Talek for far too long before making her opening statements. “Please state your name for the record,” she said.
Talek trembled in the restraints as he recalled the answer Shon and Liki had drummed into him all week. “My name is Talek, age 9, serving 1x9-21, penitatas ID: 0E0D-1101-B556-J. Formerly Talek Nodaro.”
She accepted the answer with a curt nod of approval.“In attendance with you are your penitatas parents, Mr and Mrs Dafron, and their additional penitatas charge. For the record, would the young lady please identify herself?” 
Rilka stood up and answered smartly, “My name is Rilka, age 9, serving 6x6-12, penitatas ID: C019-0683-1AE9-H. Formerly Rolk Quane.” The judged thanked her and she sat back down.
“I have reviewed your case file, Master Talek, and it makes for interesting reading,” she let the comment hang in the air, seemingly just to make him squirm. “Your biological mother is currently facing a review of her own sentence. You are aware of the why, I trust?”
“She betrayed me,” Talek answered. His words, though few, were heartfelt enough to give the judge pause.
“Care to elaborate?”
“She lied to me. She lied when we met as Pennys... and before that. I-” he choked on a sob that came unbidden. “-she never loved me! That's all I ever wanted from her but she... she didn't!”
After a moment of letting Talek calm himself again, the judge continued. “Thank you, Master Talek. I feel your little burst of emotion answered a few more questions I had concerning your relationship with your mother. I sympathise with you in your plight; the more I have learned about your biological mother the more I have been shaken. She was a canker in the heart of our society; frankly, I am not at all surprised you ended up where you are now given what I know. However, it must be said that you are in a sense a victim. A victim of your mother, yes, but also a victim of society. She was able to lie, cheat and steal her way through life for years before being caught, and even then we failed to uncover the full extent of her crimes.
“Do not misunderstand that last statement,” the judge added firmly, “I am not forgiving you for your actions! I should not have to explain to you that aiding and abetting an escape attempt is an extremely serious charge worthy of considerable extensions of your sentence! Or it would be if you were any other penitatas. You have yet to grow up, and your status as 'juvenalas' cannot be ignored here, at least not by me.”
The judge glanced down at her notes, chewing over her thoughts as she read the out-of-sight screen. “You ought to know, Master Talek, that had you come clean to your parents right away about what your mother proposed you would not be here today. Had you turned the stolen communications device over after taking it, you would not be here today. Had you confessed to your parents after handing the device to your mother you might still have avoided your current situation. You are here not because of a single mistake, but because you deliberately made the wrong choice at every opportunity. That cannot be forgiven.
“The most severe consequence of your choices is likely to be the trust you have lost from those around you. I suspect that you will find there is little, if any leeway granted to you from here on out. This will impact Miss Rilka as well, given your shared living status.”
“I'm sorry!” Talek wailed, slumping like a broken mannequin in his humiliating restraints. “I'm really, really sorry! Please!”
“No, Master Talek, you are not sorry. Not yet.” Those two, quiet words shook the boy into silence. “Despite your actions, despite your total lack of judgement, and despite the outright lies you told to every single person who cares about you, there are those who have argued you should be shown mercy. 'Mercy', within these walls, means an abeyance of punishment. Was it made clear to you upon sentencing that your actions would be judged, and that you could be sentenced to full hard-timer status if you did not demonstrate improved behaviour?”
Talek gave a frightened nod.
“Then you should know how your recent actions have jeopardised your future. Everything you do as a penitatas is weighed and measured; those letters remain in place until the wearer has proven beyond reasonable doubt they are fit and ready to return to society. You are not going to convince anyone of that unless you make some serious changes!”
The boy merely sobbed in reply, hanging limp and broken in his humiliating restraints. Jalia's voice echoed in his mind: “We exist for their amusement.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Talek's head snapped up. He didn't realise he'd spoken aloud. He shrank back as much as his binds would allow. “I... I...”
“I want you to repeat whatever you said loud enough that we can hear,” the judge pressed impatiently.
Though he felt so frightened it made him want to vomit, a little voice inside Talek's head told him he couldn't possibly make things worse. “My mom – Jalia I mean – it's something she said to me. 'We exist for their amusement'. She told me that people like us exist for... others. Whether we want to or not.”
The judge raised an eyebrow. “You believe you have been made a penitatas for the amusement of others?”
“It... it feels that way sometimes. I have no privacy anywhere, my pants get pulled down in public, I don't even have privacy when using the bathroom!” the boy whined.
“That's what makes it a punishment,” the judge replied calmly.
“It doesn't seem like it to me! It... you...” he let his snout drop and surrendered to his tearful sobs, too confused and frustrated to put his inner chaos into words.
An almost sympathetic expression formed on the judge's snout. “Master Talek, despite your feelings you have been offered leniency before, and doubtless will again. Do you think your sexual relationship with Miss Rilka exists for the benefit of others?” The question made Talek blush bright red. “If you truly feel that your current family are overly harsh, then I am happy to arrange a fresh start for you; there are other Penitatas Communities you could live in. Perhaps a more prudish one where they have no tolerance at all for sexual activities between and by their charges?”
The boy's attention was immediately drawn to his family, watching in a state of quiet anxiousness. “No! I don't want that! I... I don't... know what I want.”
His fumbling words earned a thin smile from the judge. “Honesty is a good place to start, Master Talek. The intention of the court was to give you a 'short, sharp shock', a harsh first year to hammer home what life as a penitatas would be like. In my opinion that shock has failed to make the message stick. In fact, there are some who fear it has made the wrong message stick, and your comments just now seem to agree. You feel we are being unfair to you. I shall have to set into motion affairs to remind you precisely why your current situation is more than fair. That, however, is for another day.
“No, here and now we must consider your future. I think it can be taken as read you don't want to lose that little 'J' on your claw, but to be frank there aren't many avenues left to me that would allow this. What you have done demands a harsh sentence! By the letter of the law I should be adding a mandatory additional cycle onto your sentence and increasing your penny-grade. The problem I'm running into is that we only have one grade for juvenalas, and you are already a special case! I suppose I could sentence you to 2x9-21...”
The judge's silence was met only by miserable sobbing. Talek didn't so much as look up at her. In that moment, all he wanted was for the floor to open up and swallow him – it seemed the only way out left at that point.
“...but I am going to take another approach. Let us start with your feelings of being exploited. Yes, your punishments are public, and this is done to humiliate you. Yes, there are those who will find voyeuristic enjoyment in that. This is the price you pay as a penitatas. But I have been around Pennys long enough to know they learn to find fun where they can. On the edge of a school swimming pool, for example.” Talek's snout turned the colour of beetroot at the off-hand comment. “When penitatas like yourself find ways to twist their situation to their own ends, we let it slide providing the 'spirit' of the situation remains unchanged. You are a young, confused, reckless little boy who needs to learn he must accept limits on his behaviour. Despite this, you have been allowed to make gross lapses in judgement for personal gratification. Should I ask for the details on how your relationship with Miss Rilka started? I can tell from your expression you'd rather I didn't. At least have the courtesy to tell me this much – if I did ask, how much trouble do you think you'd be in?”
Talek almost burst into tears at the question. “Almost as much as I already am!” he whined.
“Thank you for the honest answer. When this is over, it might be a good idea for you to talk with your parents about punishments and 'punishments', to see whether more or the latter can be arranged. Even penitatas deserve a little happiness in their lives, after all. Unfortunately, there won't be much of that in your immediate future. Master Talek, I have decided that you deserve mercy; to protect your status as a 'juvenalas penitatas', and ensure you still have some hope for achieving parole in six years time, we are going to keep with the spirit of your sentence. We are giving you a short, sharp shock. Believe me, this will be the sharpest shock in the corrective arsenal. You are hereby sentenced to a level three judicial paddling! No actions beyond this shall be taken, and no change to your status shall be enacted.”
Talek could feel the horror radiating from his family. “W-what does that mean?” he asked, but the judge had already banged her gavel.
The boy was released from his binds, and Liki hastily pulled his clothes back into place. Her claws were trembling as she did so. “I think you got off lightly, even though it won't seem like it!”
“Please tell me what's going to happen!” the boy wailed as he looked from one anxious face to another.
It was Shon who finally broke the news. “You're going to get a paddling with the harshest paddle allowed, worse than anything we or the school could ever use on you. It will mean blisters, and there'll not be any hope of nano-lotion or the like. Just know we'll be there for you when it's over.”
“When's this going to happen?”
As if summoned by the question, a police officer approached with a datapad in claw, which Shon took and read. “Lunchtime tomorrow,” he said. “Performed in the assembly hall at Northrock Correctional Elementary.”

It turned out that Judicial Paddling was a rare event, and Northrock intended to make a spectacle of it.
A spanking bench had been set up in the hall. As many teachers, parents and penitatas as possible were gathered to watch, all of the latter dressed in their house uniforms. Mr Hachi and the other teachers addressed the gathered rejuves to explain ahead of time how Talek's actions would result in demerits for the entirety of House Sea Fox. Take could feel the scowls burning into him, but didn't dare look around.
The court-mandated spanker approached with the dour solemnity of a Grim Reaper, his black wood paddle held ready. Mr Hachi and Mister Titus both assisted in settling Talek onto the bench, where he was strapped down tight. His head rested in a padded cradle, where all he could see was some kind of dark glass.
The bound boy felt the air shift as an unseen figure stepped in. He heard Mister Titus address the gathering, “For this Level Three punishment, the penitatas will be receiving Judicial Fire-cream. This not only creates a burning sensation on contact, it enhances sensitivity to pain and will automatically shut down any nano-lotion or similar restorative gels. Once applied, it cannot be removed.”
Talek had been forewarned of the cream, but he was still in no way prepared for it. He felt a thick rubber glove begin to massage his cheeks, and for a moment there was nothing but a cold tingle. A slippery finger traced across his puckered tailhole, slipping in a little to smear the gel in his back passage. Then the hand retracted, leaving him tingling and mildly itchy. Why didn't it hurt?
The glass before him blinked into life. He could clearly see his own backside, tail pulled up and away, his green-scaled cheeks given a creamy shine by the gel rubbed all over them. He was going to be shown his own spanking? That was -
His thoughts were interrupted by the whoosh of wood, and a thunderclap as the hefty paddle made contact with his exposed rear. The strike sent a wave of hot pain rushing through his body, cruel lightning racing down his legs and up his back. His whole body jolted, too shocked to cry out as it took a few seconds to register the impact.
But register he did – and as his pain receptors sent the frantic message of just how large the paddle was and how hard he'd been smacked, the Judicial Fire-cream activated.
Talek pulled his head back hard against the restraints that kept him snout-down on the bench, and screamed as loud and as long as he could. He didn't register the image on the screen below him, depicting the paddle's fall several seconds behind the actual event. It was the single most agonising thing he'd ever experienced, and had it ended there and then he'd have considered himself well-punished! Every single molecule of his backside burned like he'd been spanked for an hour straight, and the scales where the paddle had hit were somehow worse! It was torture! Pain so terrible he couldn't feel his legs anymore!
A second crack came upon the other cheek. The boy hadn't even recovered from the first smack, despite them being thirty seconds apart. Talek tried to breath and scream at the same time, tears flowing down his cheeks so rapidly it was as if someone had taped two little hoses to his head. The screen below him was quickly becoming blurred by the patina of salty water pooling upon it.
“Noooo!” the boy howled at the image of his own rear, a band of rapidly-darkening scales now forming because of the smacks. “Plee-ease no! I'll never do anything bad ever again!”
The paddle replied, as he knew it would. The third smack landed, and it seemed to hit a hundred times harder than the first! Talek fought in desperate panic against his restraints, shrieking and wailing as his whole body began to throb in sympathy for his helpless bottom. But there was no escape; he couldn't shift a single inch! All he could do was cry and beg and watch the delayed replay on the screen. The paddle fell every thirty seconds, and blow by blow it transformed his rear from a light green to a hideous collage of deep-bruise purple and blister-yellow.
On and on the paddle fell. Blisters formed and were burst open by the following blows, allowing the liquid evil that was Judicial Fire-cream to seep into the open sore and reveal to Talek a kind of pain yet un-imagined. He pleaded for mercy until he lost his voice. He cried until he ran out of tears. The paddling didn't pause even when he lost control of his bladder.
The Judicial Paddling continued for twenty minutes. Though it gave Talek no comfort at the time, he was far from the only one present to break down in tears. Some wept because they were deathly afraid of one day landing under that paddle themselves, others out of sympathy at seeing a fellow Penny go through a living hell. His friends and family wept because they loved him. One girl, watching remotely in a completely different Penny Town, wept solely because she was sentenced to her own Judicial Paddling, and the court wanted her to see exactly what that would entail.
Talek cried all the way home. He cried so hard he passed out on the sofa, and awoke howling in the wee hours of the morning – it still felt as though he was being hard-time spanked even though nothing was touching his rear! His throat was on fire from the constant howling, his sole source of comfort was the pair of fatherly arms wrapped around him.
It took twenty four hours for the Fire-cream to dissipate. It would take far, far longer for the punishment to truly end. After a day spent sobbing and trembling on the sofa, Talek was carefully put into the softest, thickest diapers his parents could find due to the mass of weeping blisters on his rear.
It was only then the boy was able to acknowledge anyone around him. His mind had shut down in self-defense. Shon gently brought a drink to the boy's lips, something thick and tasting of oats. “Drink as much as you can, okay? You'll need it to heal, and it'll help soothe your insides as well.”
Forcing the stuff down his throat was a challenge as his windpipe felt swollen from all the bawling. He was hungry, but the idea of eating solids did not appeal.
He licked his dry lips, croaking out a strangled little sound that Shon hushed away. “You don't need to say anything, Talek. Just rest, alright? Rest and heal.”
When he next slept it was in his own bed, on his front with the sheets removed. He was awoken from this light, pained rest by a cream-scaled lizard girl sliding onto the bed next to him, wet-eyed with worry. “Sorry if I woke you,” Rilka whispered.
“Hard to sleep,” Talek croaked.
Rilka dared a kiss on his snout, then settled down. Pain and sympathy kept them both awake long after they were supposed to be in dreamland.

The next day, Shon helped Talek out of bed. The diaper was removed, but no replacement was offered. “It still looks sore, but it's healing,” he announced. “I'm going to keep you in bare scale for a bit. Come downstairs; you can stand at the table rather than sit.”
“Dad...” the word was barely a mumble, but Shon turned to focus on his weak, miserable little boy. “I can't...”
Shon knelt down and offered the sorry lizard a strong, loving hug. “You've been through something most penitatas never will. Nobody expects you to bounce back from this overnight. Your mother and I were hurt by your betrayal, but we care too much about you to let that come between us. You've got us to lean on when you feel too weak to keep going.”
“It's not... fair...” the boy whimpered into his father's shoulder.
“No more of that, alright? Come on, let's go downstairs.”
Rilka had gone on ahead as Talek slowly, painfully marched down the spiral stairs. Each time he lifted his leg several blisters creased and stretched, sending waves of hot agony across his backside. He was mewling and spluttering by the time he made it down, and was so lost in his own grief he almost didn't spot who was at the table. Isabelle, Ki'reth, Kost, Bubbles, and Rilka, of course.
“There he is, the toughest Penny in Northrock!” Kost announced with a weak little chuckle.
“You guys... saw?”
“The whole school did,” Isabelle confirmed. She walked over and took his claws in her own white-furred paws. “Your parents thought you could use some friendly faces right now. So... since you had to suffer through a Judicial Paddling, I decided I'd suffer through your stupid game with you.”
The boy's weary eyes turned to the table. The Heroes of the Heroic Guild game was set out and ready to go, with Shon taking his place at the head of the table behind the Game Master's screen. His fatherly claw gestured to a space next to Rilka. “A band of heroes are about to descend into the Swamp of Ten Thousand Dreadblooms. They could sure use the help of an experienced Quest-Knight like Harre Longears.”
For the first time in days, a smile formed on Talek's snout. He took his place at the table, jaw trembling as he looked from one friendly face to the other, and reached for his dice. “Okay... let's roll!”